eraisa - Tumblr blog

[eraisa]

wil moving to @sanctos for now , we'll see how long this lasts :)

[eraisa]

if i move wil to my multi yall gotta swear to still interact w them even tho there's male / masc presenting characters on there

[eraisa]

wil is from dawn court btw

[eraisa]

GALADRIEL appreciation 01/∞

[eraisa]

It’s moo-nday! 🐮 Here’s a little angel-cow to start the week of right ♡

(via)

[eraisa]

head  shakes  at  the  lovely  idea  ,      not  in  rejection  of  it  but  in  acknowledgement  that  such  a  peaceful  world  can  never  be.      they  can  reach  for  it  ,      bring  things  as  close  as  feasibly  possible  ,      but  a  world  with  no  stress  will  never  be  their  world.      that  they  try  is  close  enough———humanity  will  always  reach  for  that  serenity  ,      and  that's  reason  enough  to  keep  trying  ,      at  least  in  wilhelmina's  eyes.       a  small  hum  emits  from  their  chest  ,      body  rocking  back  and  forth  as  they  ruminate  on  their  thoughts.         ❛❛  that's  a  lovely  goal  to  work  towards———and  very  human.  ❜❜         gentle  smile  blooms  ,      barely  a  hint.         ❛❛   i  will  note  ,      though  ,      that  the  things  that  have  made  me  snap  happened  before  ,      and  actually  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  hole  in  the  sky.      what  i  have  endured  is  simply   .  .  .   part  of  life.  ❜❜

a  little  sigh  ,      wistful  ,      carried  away  on  the  wind.         ❛❛   i  doubt  you  can  do  anything  about  that  ,      but  then  again———anything  is  possible.      nobody  ever  thought  the  sky  would  rip  in  half  ,      so   .  .  .  ❜❜          another  small  smile  ,      which  bubbles  up  into  a  giggle  with  hypatia's  words.      wil  imagines  themself  at  their  worst  ,      and  giggle  becomes  a  laugh———they  must  look  so  small  ,      so  ridiculous.         ❛❛  i  promise  you  ,      its  not  scary.      i'm  not  capable  of  being  scary———well   .  .  .  ❜❜         head  tilts  ,      the  magic  in  their  veins  warming  their  fingertips  ,      a  reminder  that  its  there.         ❛❛   i  suppose  with  magic  ,      i  can  be.       but  that's  combat———when  i  get  overwhelmed  ,      i  usually  just   .  .  .   punch  hay  bales.      i  imagine  it  looks  silly.  ❜❜

at this point, hypatia sincerely comes to regret the way she snapped earlier, and the harsh way she handled wil and their genuine concern. talking to them, hypatia recognizes a great deal of pain in their voice — a selfless reminder that she's not the only one going through a struggle right now. everyone is. wil is fighting demons hypatia will never know about, and though she can infer a bit from the elf's soft words (personally, i tend to snap, wil says, and hypatia's eyes go wide at their confession), she might never know the grief they've gone through or the death they've witnessed. that's part of this herald thing, this inquisitor thing — it's good to recognize the pain of all and protect it. she cannot be stuck grieving her own world when so many are grieving theirs. this helps. wil helps.

"i'm trying to get this world back to a place where you don't have to snap." hypatia grips the rock beneath her and lets her eyes dance over @eraisa's face. "where you don't have to stress. no hole in the sky, just... just your usual life, all the farming you do. peace. that's all i want — for you and for everyone in thedas. i didn't ask for this mark, but the most holy must have given it to me for a good reason." her hand, palmed against the rock, glows a bit in response. "and if it's all the same to you, wil," she goes on, now smirking a bit, trying to be humorous and make the elf smile, "i'd rather not see you snap. bet you're scary. no thanks. let me know if you do, so i can start running."

[eraisa]

now  they  are  brighter  than  ever  ,      the  love  for  their  farm  shining  bright  as  the  sunlight  in  their  eyes.      wil  is  on  their  feet  in  a  moment  ,      eager  ,      smoothing  out  white  skirt  as  it  flows  around  them  like  water.      a  hand  reaches  for  sarastus'  ,      palm  up  ,      fingers  outstretched———beckoning  her  to  come  along.         ❛❛  that's  a  good  idea———its  the  peak  of  the  spring  season  ,      so  much  has  progressed.  ❜❜

but  where  to  start  ?      eyes  scan  the  farm  around  them  ,      creating  a  list  in  their  head.      last  time  saras  visited  ,      the  chickens  were  laying  ,      flower  seeds  were  just  being  buried  in  the  dirt  ,      and  the  leaves were  beginning  to  return  to  the  trees.      all  of  it  is  different  now———peeping  chicks  ,      budding  flowers  ,      a  forest  in  full  bloom  ,      leaves  thick  enough  to  create  a  ceiling  over  the  pathway.      their  focus  settles  on  the  flowers———of  course.           ❛❛  i  think  we  should  start  with  the  flowers.      they  were  just  being  planted  when  last  you  visited  ,      remember  ?      the  peonies  are  in  full  bloom  now  ,      its  beautiful.      and  the  forest———oh  !  ❜❜         here  they  gasp  ,      endeared:      as  though  something  radient  has  blossomed  in  their  chest.         ❛❛  the  wild  daisies  are  very plentiful  this  year  ,      they  practically  line  the  forest  pathways  ,      you'll  love  it———come  on  !      and  then  i  have  the  new chicks  to  show  you  ,      a  new  baby  goat   .  .  .  ❜❜ / @sarastuss

IT IS THE SMALL MOMENTS LIKE THESE, THAT SHOULD BE TREASURED, : &. WITH ALL HER HEART, SHE DOES! it is easy to take such things for granted, when one can live forever, when one is able to choose at when to flow into the aetherial sea. ... 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐌? it was easy to say she, very much like her predecessor, were different. ( THE VERY REASON THE TITLE OF AZEM SHOULD FALL UPON THEM. ) ❝ i doubt that as well. ❞ &. SHE AS HER DUTY HAS TRAVELED FAR BEYOND MANY REALMS ... she believes she would have crossed paths with such person. not even she, nor her colleagues can withstand everything alone, 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓. ( countless times had she used her ability to summon, to call upon her friends, who always answered. ) she only hoped wil would feel this way too ... for should she call, sarastus would answer. NO MATTER HER STRUGGLE!

BUT CLOUDS ARE ALLOWED TO PASS, : THE SUN'S RADIANCE FULLY VISIBLE. every darkened thought cast away, 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓. radiant gaze follows their figure, smile stretching just a bit further, ... ❝ you're correct, we must be due for a different topic. ❞ AN ANGELIC LAUGH OF HER OWN, azem's cloak settles smoothly as she stands up. ❝ how about you show me around the farm? i would love to see how everything has progressed. it has been quite some time after my last visit, after all. ❞

[eraisa]

[eraisa]

a  quiet  giggle  ,      blown  away  on  the  breeze  ,      practically  echoing  around  them.      wil  extends  a  dainty  hand  to  motion  to  the  feast  before  them  ,      eyes  shining  at  the  other's  reaction.         ❛❛  by  all  means  ,      eat.      i  do  intend to  join  you———i  just  don't  want  to  be  the  one  to  cut  into the  cake  first.      i'm  hopeless.  ❜❜          hopeless  in  every  aspect  ,      really:      they  hadn't  chosen  or  baked  the  cake  ,      either.      they'd  simply  carried  it  ,      and  now  even  the  first  slice  is  left  up  to  lucien.      ever  too  careful  of  doing  something  wrong  ,      not  even  a  simple  cake  is  exempt  from  their  anxieties.      at  least  they  managed  to   bring  his  favorite.

their  own  focus  drifts  to  the  various  fruits  accompanying  their  treats.      they  retrieve  a  small  bundle  of  raspberries  ,      putting  some  on  the  tips  of  their  fingers  to  eat  off  of  them.      their  favorite.         ❛❛  scars  are  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of  ,      you  know  ,      no  one  needs  to  cover  them  with  clothing.  ❜❜         one  raspberry  ,      two  ,      three   .  .  .    before  they're  reaching  for  a  bunch of  grapes  ,      instead.      after  biting  one  in  half  ,      their  tone  becomes  almost  scolding.         ❛❛  and  mental  scars  are  the  furthest  thing  from  lucky.      they're  terribly  damaging.      i  would  much  rather  have  a  physical  scar  than   .  .  .   many  memories.      the  ideal  is  not  to  have  any  reminders  of  peril  whatsoever———but  nobody  is  so  lucky  ,      are  they  ?  ❜❜

he's not quite sure how they even got on the topic — parents, families. it was a tough spot for lucien. his mother loved him. his fathers and brothers? not so much. he left their court to go to another, a place where he thought he'd spend the rest of his days. and then amarantha. and then feyre. it seemed the spring court was no place for him either, nor the night court. where was he supposed to go? we all have scars. their soft voice makes him chuckle as tanned fingers raise to run over his own, clear on his face. “ yes, but most people are lucky to escape with mental scars rather than physical ones. and even then, most get to cover theirs with clothing. ” he used to be pretty self conscious about the whole thing, but once people learned who gave him the scar, they congratulated him. funny.

his metal eye whirs as he looks down at the array before him, choosing to focus his attention on the rather delicious looking strawberry cake @eraisa brought. “ how did you know strawberry was my favorite? ” he asks, looking up at them and scrunching his nose. “ very kind of you. thank you. now, shall we? i didn't invite you out here just for you to watch me eat, you know. ”

[eraisa]

❛❛  a  mountain  rose   .  .  .  ❜❜         tone  is  almost  dreamy  as  thoughts  envision  the  thing;      beautiful  petals  rising  from  betwixt  mountain  rock  ,      resilitant  and  determined  ,      reaching  in  hopes  that  the  sunlight  will  offer  a  warm  kiss  ,      encouraging  little  blades  of  grass  to  do  the  same.      like  a  poem———so  often  ,      the  very  world  around  them  is  just  as  poetry  describes  ,      lovely  and  unexpected.

not  a  terrible  metaphor  for  humanity  ,      they  think.      growing  against  all  odds———despite  all  suffering  and  terrible  things.      they'd  lost  sight  of  things  like  flowers  ,      during  their  own  suffering.      remembering  them  now  is  a  lightness  ,      a  freedom  in  their  chest.      they  pet  a  hand  over  the  grass  beneath  them  ,      offer  another  small  smile.         ❛❛  that  sounds  very  lovely.      perhaps  i'll  see  this  rose  ,      someday.  ❜❜         briefly  ,      they  consider  going  over  every  type  of  flower  they  know  that  lawrence  may  not  have  seen———but  this  would  take  several  hours  ,      they  realize  ,      and  would  likely  become  boring  even  for  them.      and  they  could  grow  each  and  every  one  here  in  their  palm  ,      but  then  they  would  exhaust  their  magic  ,      be  near  ready  for  bed  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.      that  won't  do.      not  for  them  ,      and  not  for  a  farm.

a  gentle  hum  ,      their  hands  returning  to  their  lap:      only  to  fidget  there  as  well  ,      fingers  twiddling.         ❛❛  i  don't  mind  a  bit  of  preaching  ,      by  the  way  ,      as  long  its  civil  ,      and  from  the  heart.  ❜❜         loving  one's  patron  and  preaching  about  them  are  two  very  different  things  ,      they've  come  to  understand.      one  is  lovelier  ,      kinder  than  the  other.      but  the  negative  effects  of  zealots  has  before  brought  itself  to  their  very  doorstep———so  there's  a  faint  nervousness  about  them  ,      but  a  welcoming  as  well.         ❛❛  i'm  sure  it  will  only  be  a  matter  of  time  until  i'm  speaking  about  my———mm   .  .  .   my  god  ,      technically  ,      but  i  say  mother.      such  relationships  can  become  a  big  part  of  one's  life  ,      hm  ?      so  by  all  means  ,      don't  prevent  yourself  from  speaking  of  ilmater.  ❜❜

ah, there it is. the common ground on which they both stand, a mutual thread of familial strife connecting them, and something that gives way to better understanding. rejection by your own blood marks one like nothing else. that is something lawrence is no stranger to — tormented in his youth, scorned for the scar upon his face, nearly slayed by his own father. it is not difficult for him to feel, on some level, like the two of them have kindred spirits in this regard.

"it is a shame you did not find the same love and acceptance amongst your own flesh and blood. i know family often has a way of ... disappointing us." his words take on a somber tone, soon eclipsed by another smile. "i suppose that makes the family we choose all the dearer to us."

lawrence watches them look away, as if to another, and his undamaged eye narrows slightly, not scrutinizing but curious. he is certain he has been regarded in such a way many times before, with Ilmater's tendency to murmur in his ear. communing with nature, perhaps? he isn't sure. "then i will do well not to preach at you," lawrence laughs gently, his smile edged with a blood-colored sadness. "but please, let me put your heart at ease. great as the suffering may be, it will never prevail against the unconquerable spirits of those who oppose it."

shaking his head then, his hand stretches to accept the small, yellow flower, one he does not recognize. "there's only one i know of. a rose that grows in the mountains, of all places. like the people of greyridge, it is quite stubborn, and very difficult to subdue."

[eraisa]

WE UP

[eraisa]

it appears wil is next for catch-up time FLKHJSDHFSJ

[eraisa]

Morfydd Clark as Galadriel in THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RINGS OF POWER (2022—)

[eraisa]

Li Po, tr. by Sam Hamill, "The Birds Have Vanished"

[eraisa]

their  companion's  words  bring  wil  back  in  time  ,      back  to  when  they  were  fighting  and  felt  that  they  were  alone  ———  surrounded  by  those  they  still  call  friends  ,      but  crying  interally  ,      wilting  without  notice.      sometimes  they  still  wonder  how  these  friends  let  so  many  petals  fall  from  them.      how  nobody  ever  noticed  they  were  withering  until  someone  else  took  them  away  ,      watered  and  nutured  them  back  to  life.      until  a  god  herself  reached  out  and  took  wil  into  her  arms.      they  shouldn't  have  felt  that  alone  in  a  group.      they  shouldn't  have  felt  that  alone  at  all  ———  they  understand  that  now.      and  yet:      they  can't  bear  to  hold  their  friends  to  hard  feelings.      they're  too  bonded  ,      been  through  too  much  together  for  wil  to  disregard  it  in  defense  of  their  sadness.

anyways  ,      there  are  other  friends  to  be  made  ,      friends  who  will  see  them.      friends  like  sarastus  ,      who  brings  an  extra  beam  of  sunlight  to  the  farm  with  every  visit  ,      who  seems  to  understand  them  better  than  anyone  has.         ❛❛   i  don't  think  such  a  person  exists  ,      who  is  strong  enough  to  fight  on  their  own.      if  they  do  ,      they're  certainly  not  me.  ❜❜          a  quiet  giggle  ,      and  wil  pats  the  hand  their's  rests  atop  of  before  pulling  it  away  ,      looking  ready  to  spring  to  their  feet.         ❛❛  now  then  ———  what  would  you  like  to  do  today  ?      besides  sit  here  and  talk  about  the  burdens  of  life  ,      that  is.      i  feel  like  im  being  a  very  gloomy  host.  ❜❜

THE REFUSAL IS SPOKEN WITH CARE, : THE JESTING MANNER CURLING DARKLY PAINTED LIPS EVEN MORE. she knows this tactic : 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄, such a warm &. radiant one, that it is bound to distract from every worrying thought. ... but now that she is on the other side, IT IS THE GOLDEN HEART, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 that aches to help.

GENTLY IS THE TOUCH OF THEIR HAND, : AS IT LANDS UPON SARASTUS' OWN, ❝ well, as your friend, please know that i will always be there for you. ❞ 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 : &. NEVER HAS AZEM BROKEN HER WORD! ... azem's duty is to travel, to discover : but distance would do no difference, when the bond is true, nothing can affect it. &. she had made sure to do frequent drops to them, 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋, the weight atop wil's shoulder is not an easy feat, after all. ❝ i understand. ❞ HONESTY IN HONEYED TUNE, ❝ and i am honored that you share such a feeling with me. ❞ a pause, she feels a warm sentiment within : A LESSON SHE WAS TOLD BY HER PREDECESSOR. ❝ not even the strongest need to fight alone. ❞

[eraisa]

family  of  the  heart.      the  phrase  makes  their  smile  grow  into  something  sweetly  delighted  ———  catalogued  in  their  mind  to  use  from  now  on  ,      the  most  perfect  description  of  their  family  they've  heard  to  date.         ❛❛  indeed  ———  i  like  the  way  you  refered  to  them.      family  of  the  heart.      they've  certainly  been  better  family  to  me  than  most  of  my  blood.  ❜❜          most  ,      they  think  with  a  dull  ache  in  their  heart  ,      but  not  all.      their  true  mother  was  kind  ,      and  her  ancestors  cannot  be  spoken  for  ———  but  wil  has  always  settled  with  the  thought  that  they  must  have  been  kind  ,      being  druids.

though  wilhelmina's  eyes  trail  away  from  him  ,      ever  too  shy  to  hold  a  gaze  for  very  long  ,      their  attention  is  unbroken:      nodding  as  he  speaks  ,      a  brow  quirked  at  the  mention  of  his  god.      wil  doesn't  know  much  about  ilmater.      but  they  feel  isedora's  presence  as  though  she  was  suddenly  hovering  behind  ———  curious  ,      peering  at  lawrence  and  whispering  in  wil's  head.      admirable.      but  all's  suffering  should  not  be  placed  on  just  one.         as  though  being  spoken  to  aloud  ,      wil's  head  turns  in  the  mother's  direction  ,      brows  furrowed  curiously.      they're  not  quite  sure  what  she  means.      they'll  have  to  do  some  reading  ,      later.

for  now  ,      they  turn  their  attention  back  to  lawrence  ,      curiosity  now  sparking  in  their  own  eyes.         ❛❛   i  see.      i'm  afraid  i  don't  know  much  about  ilmater  ———  i  cannot  say  i'm  very  keen  about  suffering  on  the  horizon  ,      though.      there's  been  quite  enough  of  that.  ❜❜         smiling  in  a  smaller  ,      softer  way  ,      they  grow  a  daffodil  now  ,      and  hand  it  over  to  him.        ❛❛   there  aren't  flowers  in  greyridge  ?  ❜❜

he leans in, pulled closer by curiosity as verdant magic weaves between their fingers. lawrence's brow lifts, smile growing, clearly delighted by the display of magic. "ah, a ... daisy?" he asks, bringing it to his nose so he can smell it. greyridge is a brutal landscape, battered by ferocious winds for most of the year, so only the most robust of foliage can grow. "i don't know the names very well. so few flowers grow where i am from," lawrence says, smiling sheepishly.

his gaze returns to wil, nodding along at their words. he cannot help but reflect the look of contentment in their expression, the way their eyes shine with love. he can see they care for their people very dearly, and that the home they've found here is a source of love and pride. it warms him inside, that flame of hope ever-burning in his chest and fueled by things like this — good things and good people. "it is a beautiful thing to find family of the heart, those who are kin by choice rather than by blood."

he is, of course, a stranger in their land. some level of scrutiny is to be expected. "i hail from a place called greyridge. it's a very small kingdom, way in the north. as for my journey, i cannot say as i cannot foresee its end." his expression shifts, sobering at the thought of what his future holds. "i fear a great deal of suffering is on the horizon. Ilmater has called me to freely share His blessings with those afflicted, and to help them through their plight. so, i follow where He leads me."

[eraisa]

Ramón Casas - Over My Dead Body, 1893 (detail), oil on canvas