#Sing O Muse 'verse

[ofdrivensnow]

' ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑜𝑦? that's the ( s o u n d ) of 𝖘𝖓𝖔𝖜 . . . falling. ' ･ ｡ﾟ:

A STUDY IN A 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙶 𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙰𝙽𝚄𝚂 𝚂𝙽𝙾𝚆 . Based from Suzanne Collin's : THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES . Delving into how love , poverty and power corrupts , taints and molds the mind . The need for power and control . To keep the legacy behind the SNOW name worth something . But alas , not without the thorn of love twisting deep into his side for the antidote to great madness . ･ ｡ﾟ:

it's the things we love the most , 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘 𝐔𝐒.

❊ Carrd. ( Under Construction. ) ❊ Memes. ( Always accepting. ) ❊ Tbd. ❊ Open Starters.

𝑂𝑁𝐸. Mun does not equal muse . Mun is very much a compassionate , loving & a person with high morals . My muse's actions do not reflect with my own , keep that in mind . Mun is 21+ .

𝑇𝑊𝑂. This blog will contain heavy + dark topics . I actually advise not to even follow if you are not familiar with the Hunger Games franchise as there are many heavy and disturbing topics . Depending what verse you interact with my muse in , ( typically applies for my verses in Peacekeeper and beyond + ) if you provoke a reaction from him , he will most certainly give your muse one . So do keep that in mind when interacting .

𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐸𝐸. Open starters and memes . Always , always feel free to answer opens or send me memes . I encourage it . If you are a new follower , feel free to take off in my meme tag and send one in if you are feeling it . It's the fastest way to interact with me . If you have an idea for a plot , come and toss that at me too . I'm easy going and would love to write with you !

𝐹𝑂𝑈𝑅. Shipping . Beyond Lucy Gray , Coriolanus is incapable of love and half the time even that is very complexed and a very unstable thing for him to swallow . Also note , being in a relationship with him means there'll definitely be heavy topics like possession , jealousy , being totally unhinged . So if that's a heavy topic for you / makes you uncomfortable , I advise to steer clear . ( Even in my AU verse where Coryo does not become president and my verse of living with Lucy Gray , he still has carries toxic tendencies . I just want to make that completely clear to ensure the comfort of my rp partner(s) . )

𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸. If you'd like a specific verse , then definitely specify that please . I am happy to write in any of my verses at any time .

𝑆𝐼𝑋. Formatting , icons and GIFS . I use all three . I use small font , icons or rp pack / hunt related gifs . Feel free to use whatever works best for you though !

𝑆𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁. CREDIT. PSD on my icons and the icon template are both from here. My promo is made by me.

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒.

𝖎. ( 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑟. ) / Takes place during Coryo meeting Lucy Gray and their time together before and DURING the games .

𝖎𝖎. ( 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑒𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑒𝑟. ) / Takes place when Coriolanus gets sent to TWELVE and all the events that unfold there .

𝖎𝖎𝖎. ( 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑜𝑙. ) / Takes place after Coriolanus leaves District 12 once Lucy Gray disappears , has went completely off into the deep end and desires nothing except to accomplish his studies to begin his path to presidency .

𝖎𝖛. ( 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑢. ) / Takes place when Coriolanus chooses a life of living in the woods with Lucy Gray , but things still aren't perfect . There is a lot of issues adjusting to being out of his elements and a lot of conflict that still arises on how exactly to make this work .

𝖛. ( 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑢. ) / The Academy falls through and takes place when Coriolanus gets sent to be a coal mining distribution manager , forced to work + live off in twelve for awhile and where he winds up and meets a girl named Lucy Gray at The Hob on one of his first nights being there . What happens from there should be interesting enough .

𝖛𝖎. ( to be decided. ) / A temporary tag I use when it's yet to be determined where to place our thread in.

[nerdieforpedro]

Santiago “Pope” Garcia Masterlist

Nuestras Canciones (Our Songs - a Series) Angst & Fluff

Verse One - Canto para mí mismo (I sing for myself)

Verse Two - Cantas para mí amor (You sing for me my love)

Verse Three - Cantamos juntos (We sing together)

Verse Four - Cantamos sus hijos (We sing for our children)

One Shots:

Watch me and touch it Quierda (a little angst lots of smut)

Florida Heat (M/M porn w/o plot)

I’ll dance for you (a sprinkle of plot - all the smut)

Oscar Isaac Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Santi’s Peaches 🍑: @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @megamindsecretlair @pedritapascal @rhoorl @dameron-grant-spector @pamasaur @sin-djarin @i-own-loki @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @readingiskeepingmegoing @saturn-rings-writes @yorksgirl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @musings-of-a-rose @heareball

[searchingfor-affection]

Cherry Wine

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1080ish Soundtrack: Cherry Wine grantperez, Bog down in the Valley-O

NSFW mentions and insinuated smut

You slip your phone into your clutch, ignoring how it relentlessly buzzed with notifications. Carol stood beside you leaning against the elevator wall, a dazzling smile on her face. This was an impulsive decision, possibly a bad decision. Nonetheless, it was a decision you couldn’t bring yourself to regret as she leaned against the wall of the elevator oh so casually, hands in pockets, looking at you like you were the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen. You felt a mischievous smirk crawl across your face as you mused where this night might take you.

“So, where to Captain?” You lean against the wall opposing her. Her shoulders relax as she thinks for a second, eyeing the now empty champagne glass still in your hand, hoping you didn’t see her falter as Captain came out of your mouth. How delicious.

“Thirsty?” She questions standing and moving closer to you. Her arm gently slides over your hip. It’s your turn to falter and you wonder if she can see how you drown in desire. Warmth crawls across your cheeks, and you still feel buzzed.

"Yes, drown me."

You think for a moment, that the thought had remained just that, a thought. That is, till you hear stunned laughter, and before you can do or say anything else, you're over her shoulder. You can feel where your dress hugs your curves protesting at the sudden stretch against the material. Laughter rolls off you as you ask where she's taking you, what on earth does she think she's doing, so indecently carrying around Tony Starks niece, and oh, how your PR Team is going to have a field day if anyone catches this.

The more you say, the more you laugh. The more you laugh, the more Carol wants you. All of you, not just your body but your soul. How you could be her everything, she thinks to herself.

Before you know she's gently put you down, your back against a wall, her hands on your hips. Her lips whisper beside your ear, promises, sweet, sweet promises.

"Keep accusing me of indecency and I'll have to paint you, turn you into a true depiction of indecency."

Stunned, you feel light as a feather when she, without skipping a beat, leads you into the fluorescent light of a liquor store. Your head feels empty and your cheeks flushed as she grabs a cherry wine and pays for it. Almost as soon as you were inside the building you're out again and walking. Carol leads you first to a lush park, her hand warming yours. Thinking of it makes you shiver, did you truly only meet an hour ago.

As you go to take a seat beside her you feel her hands on your hips, guiding you to sit on her lap. Her arm is wrapped around your waist as she opens the wine, offering you the first swig. You happily oblige before throwing your arms around her.

For a while, you go back and forth. Trading stories and histories, funny and serious, the wine bottle empties as you find yourself recounting one of your favourite competitions with your uncle.

"It's an Irish drinking song and as they sing, it gets faster and faster and a line is added every verse. So what we do is, trade verses and sing the chorus together. If we fuck up the verse we have to take a shot but if we sing it perfectly the other person has to take two."

"What's the song called?" You think curiosity looks damn gorgeous on her. How the gods have blessed you this night.

"The Rattlin' Bog," You begin to sing it and find yourself misremembering lines quickly. With the bottle still in your grasp you jump up and pull her up with you, starting to sing and dance.

"Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog, The bog down in the valley-o. Real Bog, the rattlin' bog, The bog down in the valley-o.

on that tree there was a branch, A rare branch and a rattlin' branch, And the branch on the tree, And the tree in the hole, And the hole in the bog, And the bog down in the valley-o."

Laughing and giggling, you find yourself singing faster and faster, dancing faster and faster. With fingers intertwined, feet moving, breeze running through your hair, and such gorgeous eyes staring at you, you've never felt more alive.

"Where are you taking me," She laughs as you begin to jog, her hand in yours, towards an Irish pub you know is nearby and as if they knew you had entered the building they begin to play the song. Oh how you danced. Maybe not the most romantic, her hand wasn't in yours nor were they on your hips or hovering above the small of your back. Not a part of you was touching her, but her smile settled in your soul.

After dancing till the bar closed, Carol found herself being led again in a direction she didn't know to a destination she was unsure of but in your eyes, she could see, underneath that beautiful joy and elation, underneath the endorphins was that gnawing desire.

Drown me

Your sweet voice repeated in her mind as she pictured you undressing before her.

Drown me

She heard as she imagined how you would feel underneath her caress.

Drown me

She heard as she wondered how you would move beneath her tongue.

She was pulled from her musing as you led her into the apartment you were staying in. Carol left behind her wonderings as you pulled her into you. One hand on her waist, one hand on her cheek, you pressed your soft lips against hers. You felt her hands on top of your ass, grabbing as much as she could, pulling you further into her.

As you kissed, your tongues danced, her hands kneading your ass cheeks as if you were dough, soft and tender.

That night she did indeed drown you in every pleasure you could have ever known and fulfilled every desire that had been hidden from you before.

You woke up in your bed wrapped in a sheet with Carol spooning you from behind. Her arms around you though one hand gently holding your breast. The sun filtered in the through your open blinds and without a thought of the day to come you simply closed your eyes and revelled in the touch of the woman behind you.

[perdvivly]

favourite odyssey translation?

Ooooooh, I feel like I gushed pretty hard about Emily Wilson's translation when it came out and to be honest I'm still riding that high.

The translations of The Odyssey that I've read were by Robert Fagles, Walter Shewring, and Emily Wilson. The standard advice is to recommend either Fagles or Fitzgerald but I'm a big Wilson girlie.

I made a few posts about this across various platforms at the time. I remember thinking that Wilson's paying ode to Homer's rhythm and musicality by way of iambic pentameter felt like a mistake. Dactylic hexameter has a markedly different rhythm and it takes some stretching of the themes to call The Odyssey a romantic poem. But translation is hard, and this choice doesn't originate with Wilson. George Chapman gave the first complete translation of The Odyssey into English in 1615 and that was written in iambic pentameter too. I expect there is something untranslatable about the musicality of the iamb in English and perhaps untranslatable in the same or a similar way as the dactyl in Classical Greek.

Fagles uses a five beat line but it's loose where Wilson is strict. The effect is marked. Shewring doesn't write in verse at all, just prose, and that's fine, it's a fairly literal translation and it makes for a good enough read. But still. Go with Wilson.

There are an overwhelming number of translations out there though, and I haven't read most of them. Thomas Hobbes wrote a translation, (yes that Thomas Hobbes!) in 1675, that starts:

Tell me, O Muse, th’ adventures of the man That having sack’d the sacred town of Troy,

Which neatly side-steps the translating of πολύτροπον that has caused so much controversy. And, based on this opening, I'm not expecting it to be too accurate to the original, or all that compelling in its verse, but it is a neat little historical artefact.

I think I'd be interested in reading the Lombardo translation based soley on the impact it seems to have made on Nabakov. The first line is traditionally translated as, "Tell me, Muse" or "Sing to me/ Sing in me, Muse" but Lombardo translates it "Speak, Memory" which is the same title Nabakov chose for his memoir.

Anyway, yeah, I think there are a bunch of really good options to go with. My favourite is Emily Wilson.

But also, there are some really good interpretations of The Odyssey out there too. I want to give a mention to Epic! The Musical. Which is the project of Jorge Rivera-Herrans to turn The Odyssey into a musical, and it kind of slaps. The whole community around it are also offering really compelling takes. For example, this animated music video for one of his songs:

has my favourite depiction of Polyphemus that I think I've ever seen.

I also want to mention that Stephen Fry is expected to release a re-telling of The Odyssey later this year! Late September/ early October, and based on his previous re-tellings of the greek myths, I'm expecting it to be really good.

Lots happening in The Odyssey fandom of late.

[meaercies]

a study in finding forgiveness in eternity. ;   [ ♕ ] spymaster,        night court. truthteller. power. dreams. loyalty. friendship. observant. withdrawn. bed head. laughter. darkness. melody. blankets. bloodrush. stars. siphons. infinity. piano. shadows. humming. singing. whispers. dusk. windblown. self-loathing. quiet. books. thoughtfulness. patience. death.

                         ————————————

; memes.| musings. | headcanons. art. | promo. | friend promos.   [ ♕ ] gwyn. | elain. | cassian. rhys. | feyre. | nesta.   [ ♕ ] blogroll: @prince1ing @vaenquish @daeathes _______________ ; A Z R I E L from a court of thorns and roses series. hannah ; 30+ | cst timezone. | 18+ only interaction, please. | credit

RULES UNDER CUT;

I am over the age of 30 - i will not and do not rp with minors ! there will be mature themes present here and smut will happen. with the nature that is the a c o t a r world and azriel's past, these themes will be written about.

I LOVE OC'S, crossovers, and alternate universe threads. I absolutely love to plot ! but you can also send in a meme to get us started. -- or i can send you one ! MY ASK IS ALWAYS OPEN !

I do NOT do drama of any kind. I will not participate in it, I don't care if it's fandom drama or friend drama. I'm far too old and far too successful to participate in issues. That being said, I'm probably clueless anyway. Lol.

i'm sometimes terrible at replying back to IM's of any kind but i always reply to them eventually. you are 100% okay to IM me again. I have a very demanding job so sometimes i get distracted.

I really don't care what the A C O T A R fandom says about shipping. I don't have a preference for Azriel. This is for FUN. That's the whole point of roleplaying - changing the narrative. I ship chemistry and I will always ship chemistry first.

I'm not always here but I always come back + i'm always mobile . You can find me on disco: meaercies

I love/can make verses for: harry potter, the vampire diaries / legacies / the originals, throne of glass, from blood and ash series, divergent, fourth wing, divine rivals, heartless hunter..

personals who interact or follow will be hardblocked. i'm sorry, it's weird for me.

[tornsurvivors]

Sᴇɴꜱᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE? Some kind of spice, sometimes like nature. She does like to wear perfume, but none of those expensive and heavy smelling kind. She has a preference for some of the fine fragrance mist sprays from Body & Bath Works. Her favorite is 'Midnight Spell'.

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE?    They're a tad calloused from the work she does and all the stabbing, but mostly soft and warm. Her grip is always firm and sure. She tends to take care of her skin and hands when necessary, despite being unafraid of getting a little dirt under her fingernails.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY?   Exotic foods, absolutely. Fresh food straight from the garden, or farm. She despises fast food, and deli meat. But she absolutely loves spicy food. Restaurants such as Olive Garden is definitely a-okay in her book. But if anything, she prefers to make her own meals when possible anyway. She doesn't really like red meat much. Chicken is a favorite. Her favorite snacks are usually exotic fruits.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE?    Unsurprisingly, yes. It's been a thing long before the list of talents she began to learn, like playing the guitar because of her older brother -- who loved playing on it for her whenever she had a horrible day or suffering from her traumas. She would sing while he played. If you were to ask her when was her favorite moment when she sang, she would say it was at their parents' anniversary party.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS?  One of her biggest bad habits is probably letting her pride get the better of her. If anything, her pride is probably going to get her killed one day. In one of her biggest verses with Isabella (Kill the Don / Nine Lives), her pride actually did take a few of her nine lives. Being stubborn plays a big role with her pride as well. As far nervous ticks go, she would occasionally fidget but usually when she is alone or biting her nails. She would go off on a deep cleaning moment when she is nervous as well, like cleaning her whole house. Never, ever put her in a small room or space... she will freak the fuck out, though. She is claustrophobic. When she is in a car, she will constantly shift in her seat, looking around nervously in a slight panic and grip on her seatbelt. Picking at dirt from under her fingernails or playing with her knife is another nervous tick that people tend to overlook. Only her s/o would know this well.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR?   She's a tight jeans and leather jacket kind of woman. She does love to be the best dressed and looking person in the room though, so yes she does wear dresses and skirts for formal events or special occasions. Knee high heeled boots are a personal favorite as well, and any high heels that she would think looks the best with her picked outfit. On her off days and days when she's out hiking or for fun events, she tends to wear her favorite pair of sneakers with a comfortable outfit.

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO?  Yes, but only her s/o has the privilege of witnessing her at her most mushiest state. Her love language is physical touch and doing the little things that counts for her s/o. When she is affectionate with you, it's how you would know you have her loyalty. She is fiercely loyal to those she trusts with her life, which is rare. Otherwise, she's just an asshole to purposefully keep people away and from prying into her personal business / life. With close friends other than her s/o, they know she is caring and kind but probably adores her for her playful nature as in teasing them and picking on them. Other than the fact that she's fucking hot, lmao.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN?  Nadia will NEVER, ever sleep on her stomach or in a position that would have her back showing. She hates being in a vulnerable position. She's always sleeping on her back, or on her side in a fetal position, just a position where she can easily pounce into action and fight if she needs to. Not that she sleeps for more than six hours anyway, unless she is safe with her s/o. Nightmares are just nasty pests. With her s/o, she would often half lay on them, or snuggle close into their sides or be the big spoon when she's not being the knife. Being the small spoon only happens with her s/o when she feels like it.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM? Nope, she's stealthy like a cat. Because well, she was probably a cat in her previous life and it's her spirit animal. She's light and quick on her feet.

tagging: YOU. do the thing.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

* 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE?

Lilian always preferred a clean scent, and nothing too powerful either. She never liked to spend a ton of money on perfume, but she wants to smell nice, so she tends to go for more "typical" perfumes like a vanilla scent. Overall, it just depends on what she's doing. In the military, it can be a mix of scents: nature, debris, gunsmoke, gun oil, etc. But she cleans up regularly because of it.

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE?

Rough and calloused. Lilian might be a photographer most o the time, but that doesn't mean she doesn't get her hands dirty. I think Lilian had to deal with some tense situation and has seen some things, dealing with nasty elements and all that. So her hands aren't exactly soft.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY?  

I wouldnt say Lilian's eating habits are that great. SHe's working on them, but in the military and after tense situations, she doesn't eat that much. When she's stressed, she doesn't eat that much. But when she's home and comfortable, she can make a mean pie.

In general, she tends to eat quick meals. Microwaveable meals, and occasionally get the energy together to put together a proper meal (usually hamburgers, tacos or breaded chicken). She uses an air fryer like it was God's creation.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE?

It's alright? It won't make your ears bleed, but it can be soothing to some. If she got some training with her voice, I think it would be better.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICKS?

In tense situations, and matters of the heart or with soft confessions, Lilian tends to joke (and these jokes usually fall flat) because she often feels like she needs to say something and feels uncomfortable if she's just silent. She also gets uncomfortable with emotional moments, almost feeling a bit embarrassed about certain emotions. But in general, she clicks the end of her pen, taps her fingers against a glass. She doesn't drink or smoke.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR?

Usually, she's in her uniform, but off-duty, she tends to have very casual wear. She wears flannels, band tee's, skinny jeans, leather or jean jackets, brown scruffed boots that are usually hiking boots, long wool socks. I guess more "alternative" style?

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW SO?  

Not necessarily. Lilian isn't the type to hug someone. She expresses her friendship and affection in other ways. In a romantic relationship, maybe? But iI think she'll slowly ease up to showing physical affection. Naturally, she isn't really comfortable with physical affection.

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN?  

On her side and sort of curled up, sometimes actually in a fetal position. She tends to toss and turn at night, so she can wake up on her back sometimes.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM?

Yes? You might be able to hear Lilian walk down a hallway, but she's pretty quiet. When she's in her room, she tends to play music to try to drown out her thoughts and focus on the moment (not too loudly). It depends on where she is, but she was on an extensive mission like in a c.od or f.c5 verse), she tends to be very silent because its what the mission demanded.

[daughters-of-liberty]

For some reason, this time of year always draws me to God more than any season. Maybe it's all the Christmas songs, particularly the religious ones like Silent Night or God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen (which is actually my very favorite non-secular Christmas song) bringing a bit of Christian imagery to the mundane. You're grocery shopping, eating pancakes at Perkins, getting your oil changed, doesn't matter, there's a Christmas song playing and something in the air shifts whenever a religious one comes on. I can't describe it.

Someone I follow posted some lyrics from different hymns and whatnot, but the first one was the opening verse from O Holy Night:

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining,

It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

'Til He appeared, and the soul felt it's worth...

I have often thought about this verse, particularly the "soul felt its worth" bit, even in the deepest of my pagan days. Something about that sentiment carried an extra weight that could be felt by someone who had never read the Bible and hadn't gone to church or listened to a sermon since I was like 10.

So often, people bring up eternal damnation as a way to try to scare people into believing in God. But I can honestly say that simple lyric "long lay the world in sin and error pining, til He appeared, and the soul felt it's worth" did more to turn my heart back toward God than any fire and brimstone rhetoric.

Not that I ever hated God, don't be mistaken. I actually thought God hated me, or at the very least, strongly disapproved of my life choices. Being a dedicated pagan from about age 8, but with definite pagan ideals and concepts–such as ancestor veneration and reincarnation–incorporated into my belief system from my earliest contemplations on matters such as death, I thought I was an outcast...though I didn't know why I felt that way at the time.

Several years later, I had gone through so many books on paganism, desperate to quell this hollow feeling I had on a soul deep level, this longing to belong with no respite, only to come up not only empty-handed, but also angrier and angrier. I had hoped that some book–any book!–would give me further insight. But everything just became progressively dumber and dumber and more and more infuriatingly so. And every Christmas season, when angels are everywhere and bells are tolling and a choir can be heard inside and outside of every store singing "come and behold Him, born the king of angels", and people are unusually kind and charitable...there's something there. A filling to that hollow feeling.

Now, don't get me wrong, this isn't the Redemption of Bee, I'm not a prodigal daughter. Not entirely, anyway. But, after learning more about God and Jesus, and the full context of Jesus' time on the cross and what He did for us (going literally to Hell and back to save all of humanity from our sins is frickin metal, I don't care who you are), and reading Genesis and seeing exactly how much love God has for us, and how well-meaning and genuine He is (don't blame me, I kinda bought into some atheistic rhetoric about how cruel God is in my teens), the non-secular Christmas songs don't make me cringe anymore. Heck, Christian rock doesn't make me cringe anymore (Crowder's Crushing Snakes is a banger, change my mind).

But what used to make me ponder about Things when I was a pagan, the line "and the soul felt it's worth", now really struck a chord with me. To the point where contemplating the full scope of that simple little line inexplicably brings me to tears. On my journey, winding though it may be, I didn't listen to preachers or priests or anything like that. I mean, I tried to, and only really liked Father Mike Schmitz's approach to talking about things. But mostly, and feel free to judge me for this, I listened to a lot of Andrew Klavan and his musings about God and Jesus and the meaning of life and death and questions of morality. Say whatever you will about him, I found a lot of his takes very comforting, like talking to your father about God. Because I never really talked to my dad about God, except when I came out as pagan to him.

One thing Andrew Klavan talks about a lot in regards to Christianity, is that God is forgiving. God is loving. Yes, sometimes he can be cruel, but that's usually to teach a lesson that's falling on deaf ears, like your father taking away a toy as a child because you disobeyed him. But, one thing he especially highlights, is that God loves you. It doesn't matter if you hate Him, if you blame Him for every little bad thing in your life, He loves you and He forgives you. And should you ever find your way back to God, he will embrace you with open arms and say "welcome home". Even if you've sinned. Jesus ate with the sinners, and counted them more dearly than the Pharisees.

In some ways, my period of paganism felt like the period before Christ's birth. I waited for a very long time, in sin and error, pining for that feeling of belonging, of worth, of acceptance, of order, of gratitude. Of sheer unconditional love. And I waited and waited, until God and Christ kind of nudged their way into my psyche, and then into my life. And the soul felt it's worth. My existence wasn't meaningless, my life has a purpose, and no purpose is too small. I was hopeful, I rejoiced, a new and glorious morn broke. I didn't hate myself anymore, and realized God never hated me. How can I go forward not completely revitalized by that notion? That concept that even when all seems lost and hopeless, there is always hope.

“Turn your face from the green world, and look where all seems barren and cold!” said Gandalf. Then Aragorn turned, and there was a stony slope behind him running down from the skirts of the snow; and as he looked he was aware that alone there in the waste a growing thing stood. And he climbed to it, and saw that out of the very edge of the snow there sprang a sapling tree no more than three foot high. Already it had put forth young leaves long and shapely, dark above and silver beneath, and upon its slender crown it bore one small cluster of flowers whose white petals shone like the sunlit snow.

[timebranded]

Rules: repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. If you fail to achieve some of the facts, feel free to add some other of your own! When you’re done, tag 15 other people to do the same!

tagged by: myself ( @luckynatured​ )​

tagging: anyone who has NOT done this yet! 

B A S I C S.

Name: Lucas Adams

Age: 19/20 by default (verse/interaction dependent)

Birthdate: October 30th

Species: Human

Gender: Cis Male

Orientation: Demisexual/Panromantic

Profession: Ace Trainer

P H Y S I C A L  A S P E C T S.

Hair: Messy black hair. It might look blue under a certain lighting, but Lucas insists that’s a trick of the light.

Eyes: Steel Blue.

Skin: Fair or pale? There are some scars here and there (the life of a trainer can be kind of rough sometimes), but the most prominent is the one on his right arm.

Height: 5 feet, 11 inches

Weight: 195 lb

F A M I L Y.

Siblings: None. He’s an only child.

Parents: Laura Adams (mother, deceased), Frederick Adams (father, alive)

Grandparents: Hitomi Arakawa (paternal grandmother), and at least one grandparent on his mother’s side.

Other Relatives: Hilbert Bailey (maternal cousin), Whitlea Bailey (maternal cousin), Nate Bailey (maternal cousin)

Any Pets Partners? All of his Pokemon!

S K I L L S.

Strategies, researching, Aura sensitivity, writing, singing, dancing, piano, being a sass master. 

T R A I T S.

STRENGTHS. Intuitive, open-minded, kind, helpful, friendly, devoted, forgiving.

WEAKNESSES. Keeps things to himself, a little too nosy/curious for his own good

L I K E S.

Colors: Blue, silver, black

Smells: Rain, chocolate, cinnamon, caramel

Textures: Smooth

Drinks: Pecha berry smoothies, water, coffee.

O T H E R  D E T A I L S.

Smokes?: No

Drugs: No

Driver License: No. 

Ever Been Arrested?: No.

[lunaerosa]

“Rules”: repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. If you fail to achieve some of the facts, feel free to add some other of your own! When you’re done, tag 15 other people to do the same!

tagged by: stolen tagging: ur dad idk

B A S I C S

Name: bianca rosenthal Age: 17 Birthdate: may 15th Species: human Gender: female, she/her Orientation: bi Profession: student / champion ( treasure hunt, ) team star boss ( team star )

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: white Eyes: pink Skin: pale Height: 5'3" Weight: 110 lbs

F A M I L Y

Siblings: none Parents: alicia rosenthal ( deceased ), ida taminari ( deceased ) Grandparents: deceased Other Relatives: none Any Pets?: teams are verse dependent &&. i'm too lazy to type them all lol

S K I L L S

bianca inherits her singing voice from her mother, ida. in regards to battle, she's also an extremely quick thinker, often able to turn the tide if things aren't looking in her favor. in team star verse, she's also skilled at acting &&. pretending to be weak / a push - over / etc so her opponent drops their guard when challenging her.

T R A I T S

—— Positive ——

kind - hearted, loyal, determined, trust - worthy

—— Negative ——

insecure, pessimistic, skittish

L I K E S

Colors: distinct, bright colors that her eyesight can pick up on / differentiate from others Smells: cookies / rainy days / mint Textures: soft, fluffy things Drinks: coffee / sweet teas

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes?: nope Drugs: what's a drug Driver License: legally not allowed </3 Ever Been Arrested?: no lmao

[haec-est-fides]

You know, a long while ago I started writing a pair of sonnets, one an elegy and the other a panegyric, for Octavian that I've never finished. If I'm in a poetic mood this winter, I may just. As a sort of point of accountability, here's the opening verse:

O sing to me, my muse, marble and lean,

As pale and cold as frost upon the stone --

But horrid self-deception is this scene.

You died in fire, screaming and alone.

[libidomechanica]

I love us, play last to him and carefull temper angry

Or were in a room is this word?     Grew awhile, like before. Such as pea and peace for a kiss?     And aye to Nanie, O. And run, betokening slow, and entice     this very misery angels come what it is beat     again young and not

openly bedded wide, and afflicted     more. Her waist, all the arrow from the moon he by the     shining fyre: not fail’d, and harder growes glide, he ’ll be     by another rare: attempt to know by the first to prayer!     Although sword in his

art made you held in a cast-iron     pot. Quick! Or troublous fit, and though veils. To wash her,     waterway against they or marke: and feeling your force, lightly     to have I, on the plain of sea, war with past the man of     His tributaries; I

know what gods, and so the worke is     bright cannot beauty in the horne. So holy chime that hauing     shuts, a certaintiest Muse, the start eternity and a     gloue, captiued are you, i’d have; choose, for easie things and trump     shal thunder let it

lykewize. Says he, hold up your thee     ere Cuckow end, then shall get my fortune? Till night sky, a     delayed and love in the lessened in marble are the smelt     o’ the trees. On ilka grove ask, who died for admonitions.     I love us, play

last to him and carefull temper     angry! Back return him starue my blisse and left me in     the hour, when through strings, rinds are move to close away? They—     pitiful season, and Time is pride can call Thy plan, hast the     singing a tomb! And hauing

sheets. One day and baskets his pigtail     traine, find some uncertainties now my lip. Constant eyes,     pale unreturn, somewhat of this remove. The message set     on Vertues riches a’s my passive life, thou and I must     be thy forth at a stage

of the rushing lookers eyes, ere     thou my buddhist my naked as this verse, the hill, our convert;     or else forest haunt, and stoutly wil embrace! Kindled     by chance. Lies. Which, from elsewhere but he that wad beguile: tell     of clouds to switch #1 with wear,

o looke she sayes I neuer brings     add a curses thus,—not very bark ’gainst the Star-Queen’s circle-     glory has my obedience. Sail, and take deliciousness.     But enjoy such sweet cordialls passions of buried     dust. I saw Osirian

Egypt kneeling. When my wound about     to depriue remoue the slang. My Nanie, O When around that warpings     past its mind, by thing and daungers nurst; and her too, and     the rivers seem in up to simple any others false     praises dear. A fatigue

and are divided at a genius,     and sayd she, the fair. Line, to changed, ye hide, through kingdom     of my weak eies be inclynd: and dismay, shall make and our     regions warre now left our meaning low! High as then know, that     cheared, or more on the

human dressings his ivy tent,     onward bale of the grave, and spines. Knees than all is not so     fayre when you do, too, our face is immense, I feel loving     hate. It makes her, must your meets high with, Let us cry Too     late hath a smile I woo

the Amorous windows but not     the portal, and Inarculum here remayne. Men to the     gaine. This is my staff. The glowworm o’er them, but her slowly     drop his bone resigned his mortal eyes all the worlds rare, grow     where the toils a song’s

befalling me threw such heuenly are     nothing I doe both sing; sings his the arias of our     love us were made the show!—Now, which he had gives scope for     fear’d sublime beyond the way your eye with despair! They straining     loues pray. Of Netherby

gate, and went and lord of sensuall     desolate and makes my loue embrace my arms to folly     as the tombs of buried grief its Fires. I wished his shafts     should fondly laid, that, the rose, those sylvan aisles. Passing     didst conversation what

he soothe my madness! Som heuenly     feature, or die. Here each sting’s negotiable and free from     his mintage hotly pierce: whether of Earth sending, dear time     my love and deceive hell; not by Extortion, nor leave heart,     which the crew of bliss. To

pipe now ’gainst that, if your mind this     waxed tame, which vulgar mass called heau’nly plac’d to seeke to absorb     her tail, refashion me I would his priesthood moan theyr     shadowy Hours; while the Prior, turn him that wad make blush     so everywhere, I have

ebbs like what is busie archers close     against my heart, in deep discontinuall smile me dear with     thee! And al her faulty features wonder bibbers of your     immortall prosper ) I shuffle sideways willing meal?     And sick of Hazeldean.

[deathsbecome]

things to know about the muse

NAME. Addison Marie Blackwood

NICKNAME(S). Addy, Ads (by Matthew only), Stargirl/Spacegirl (specifically I've referenced this being used by Ruby, but if anyone ships with Addy I think you should use it too)

TITLE. none

P E R S O N A L .

MORALITY. lawful/ neutral / chaotic / good / grey / evil

RELIGIOUS BELIEF. atheist, generally is more focused on a scientific approach to things even in more supernatural settings

SINS. lust  / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride / envy / wrath

VIRTUES. chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice

PRIMARY GOAL IN LIFE. to learn as much as possible and do something notable with that knowledge (i.e. spaceships. she wants to make spaceships)

LANGUAGES KNOWN. English, Spanish, some Latin (verse dependent, tends to know some Mandarin in adult verses and in DC verse she knows bits and pieces of. A lot.)

QUIRKS. gestures with hands a lot (particularly when enthused), miscellaneous stimming (foot bouncing, tapping fingers against thumb, soft clicks with tongue, etc) tendency to speak fast

SAVVIES. astrology, piano, guitar, singing, biology, dance, tumbling/acrobatics (due to dance), chemistry, engineering, physics (supers verse: knife)

P H Y S I C A L .

BUILD. slender/ fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / babyfat / pudgy / obese / other

HEIGHT. 5'11 until i make 6'0 addy real

WEIGHT. idk im not looking that shit up for exact numbers. also she's dead so like that complicates things. normal weight for a fairly athletic (primarily cardio/stamina based) woman of her height. a little on the lighter side in some cases (dc verse when she's younger, tua, thg pre and during games) due to malnutrition

SCARS/BIRTHMARKS. scar on bottom lip, rest are verse dependent (marks around head, Achilles heel, and neck in tma/cfp verses and just. many scars in thg and dc verses—notable for dc, scars resembling autopsy incisions, two scars from gunshot wounds, scar along back of neck near spine and hairline)

ABILITIES/POWERS. human: intelligence, general athleticism, stealth. ghost: that + reality manipulation to seem alive, if she knows she's a ghost, typical ghost stuff. tua/marvel: human abilities + reality manipulation. dc: intelligence, enhanced strength/reflexes/stamina/senses/pain tolerance, knows how to use many weapons and most fighting styles

F A V O U R I T E S .

FAVOURITE FOOD. pancakes

FAVOURITE DRINK. iced tea

TOPPING. depends

FAVOURITE COLOUR. red

FAVOURITE MUSIC GENRE. folk, musical theater

FAVOURITE BOOK GENRE. anything as long as it's done in a way she likes. probably fantasy and nonfiction (science/nature, psychology being bigger ones) are her most preferred, if really being pressed for an answer

FAVOURITE MOVIE GENRE. documentaries (nerd)

FAVOURITE SEASON. spring

FAVOURTE CURSE WORD. shit

FAVOURITE SCENT. rain

F U N   S T U F F .

LOUD BURPER OR SOFT BURPER. soft

SINGING IN THE SHOWER. hums on occasion

LIKES BAD PUNS. bad puns? no. well executed ones? absolutely

THEIR OPINION ON THE MUN. "unambitious"

[american-pagan]

A Timely Roman Pagan Hymn: Hymn for a New Age

View the English translation with the original Latin here.

Hymn for a New Age

by Quintus Horatius Flaccus (Horace) in 17 BCE, reign of Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus

Phoebus and Diana, Queen of the Woods, radiant glory of the heavens, ever to be worshipped and ever worshipped, grant our prayers on this holy occasion,

when the Sibyl's verses have commanded that chosen girls and boys of good character should sing a hymn to the Gods who look with favour on the Seven Hills.

Life-giving Sun, who with your shining car bring forth the day and hide it away, who are born anew and yet the same, may you never be able to behold anything greater than the city of Rome!

You whose gentle function it is to open the way for births in due season, protect our mothers, o Ilithyia, or Lucina if you prefer that name, or Genitalis.

O Goddess, be pleased to rear our young, and to grant success to the Fathers' edicts on the yoking together of men and women and on the marriage law for raising a new crop of children,

so that the unfailing cycle of ten times eleven years may bring round singing and games that are thronged with people three times by daylight and as often in the pleasant time of night.

You Fates, who truly tell what has once been decreed (and may that be preserved by the immovable landmark of our fortunes), add a happy destiny to what has already been fulfilled.

May Mother Earth, who is fertile in crops and livestock, present Ceres with a crown of corn; may Jove's wholesome showers and breezes nourish all that she brings forth.

Apollo, lay aside your weapon, and listen mildly and gently, to the boys' prayers. Do you, o Moon, crescent-shaped Queen of the Stars, give ear to the girls.

If Rome is indeed your creation, if the squadrons that settled the Etruscan shore came from Troy -- a remnant hidden to change their home and city in a voyage that brought salvation,

for whom the righteous Aeneas, a Trojan survivor, built unscathed through the blazing city a road to freedom, destined, as he was, to give them more than they had left behind --

then, o ye Gods, give sound character to a young generation enabling them to learn; Gods, give rest to the old ensuring their contentment; and to the people of Romulus as a whole give wealth and children and every blessing.

What the glorious descendant of Anchises and Venus asks of you with white oxen, may he obtain; may he be victorious in battle over his foes yet merciful once they are down.

Now the Mede dreads our mighty hands and the axes of Alba that are powerful over land and sea; now the Scythians and the Indians, who were recently so arrogant, ask for our decisions.

Now Good Faith, Peace, and Honour, along with old-fashioned Modesty and Virtue, who has been so long neglected, venture to return, and blessed Plenty with her full horn is seen by all.

Phoebus the prophet, arrayed with his shining bow, who is dear to the nine Muses, and by his healing art relieves the body's weary limbs --

he, if he looks with favour, as he does, on the altars of the Palatine, prolongs Rome's power and Latium's prosperity for another cycle and another ever improving age.

Diana, who possesses the Aventine and Mount Algidus, listens to the prayers of the Fifteen Men and lends a gracious ear to the appeals of the children.

We carry home the good and certain hope that such is the will of Jupiter and the other Gods -- we, the chorus trained to sing in praise of Phoebus and Diana.

[onenakedfarmer]

ROBERT BURNS "Verses on the Destruction of the Woods near Drumlanrig"

As on the banks o’ wandering Nith, Ae smiling simmer morn I stray’d, And traced its bonie howes and haughs, Where linties sang and lammies play’d, I sat me down upon a craig, And drank my fill o’ fancy’s dream, When from the eddying deep below, Up rose the genius of the stream. Dark, like the frowning rock, his brow, And troubled, like his wintry wave, And deep, as sughs the boding wind Amang his caves, the sigh he gave - "And come ye here, my son," he cried, "To wander in my birken shade? To muse some favourite Scottish theme, Or sing some favourite Scottish maid?

"There was a time, it’s nae lang syne, Ye might hae seen me in my pride, When a’ my banks sae bravely saw Their woody pictures in my tide; When hanging beech and spreading elm Shaded my stream sae clear and cool: And stately oaks their twisted arms Threw broad and dark across the pool;

"When, glinting thro’ the trees, appear’d The wee white cot aboon the mill, And peacefu’ rose its ingle reek, That, slowly curling, clamb the hill. But now the cot is bare and cauld, Its leafy bield for ever gane, And scarce a stinted birk is left To shiver in the blast its lane."

"Alas!" quoth I, "what ruefu’ chance Has twin’d ye o’ your stately trees? Has laid your rocky bosom bare - Has stripped the cleeding o’ your braes? Was it the bitter eastern blast, That scatters blight in early spring? Or was’t the wil’fire scorch’d their boughs, Or canker-worm wi’ secret sting?"

"Nae eastlin blast," the sprite replied; "It blaws na here sae fierce and fell, And on my dry and halesome banks Nae canker-worms get leave to dwell: Man! cruel man!" the genius sighed - As through the cliffs he sank him down - "The worm that gnaw’d my bonie trees, That reptile wears a ducal crown."