#apollinariya

[warwickroyals]

Hi, please can you tell me where you found the hair of the first sim?

I'm going to be honest, this mesh has been used and reused so many damn times that I don't even remember which creator exactly it's from. I'm 75% sure it's THIS one, though.

[mistfallenjoyer]

second Halloween fit!!!!

unfortunately I can't tag the person who helped me put this fit together???

[p-artsypants]

My first real illustration for my book! 

This is from Chapter 2- In Which Ariya makes a Mistake 

--

In nature, the most venomous of God’s creatures were colored in vibrant hues, mainly red, yellow, and black. Ariya banked on that tonight, as she was coiled and ready to strike. She stood rigidly, faking her smiles to all that graced her presence. Her arms were folded gently in front of her, occasionally squeezing tightly, as the men poured into the room. 

They all glanced at her with knowing looks, all thinking the same thing:

“I feel sorry for the poor soul she picks.”

The crown jewels sat on her milky collarbone, as there was no way to avoid that tradition. Along with the crystal tiara and sparkling earrings, everything screamed untouchable royal. Despite the quaint smile and flirtatious eyes.

She really did make herself sick sometimes.

“My dear, why aren’t you mingling with the young gentlemen?” Stalwart touched her shoulder, noticing not a word had come out of her bright red lips.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Ariya spoke through gritted teeth. They were in public, and she had to be formal. “Because I don’t want to talk to the young gentlemen…if you could call them that…”

“Now Princess Apollinariya, don’t be rude. I’m sure there’s a nice, handsome, quiet boy that you could take out on special occasions. Go on, be cordial.”

Rich, beautiful, eligible men as far as the eye could see. All she had to do was point, and the man that would inevitably stand by her side for the rest of her life would be chosen. And yet, as she marched around the room, he was not there. The man of her dreams, the man that didn’t fake his smile around her, the man that could see through her act and witness the scared, lonely little girl all alone in the world, the man that could love her for who she was; he didn’t exist. Ariya was no fool. She knew of her cruelty, she knew what was being said about her. 

And yet, how could she change if there was no one to take the time to teach her? 

As she attempted to meet eyes and start conversations, the young men were quick to avoid her gaze and ‘conveniently’ be busy with something else. 

Why even bother coming to her party if they were just going to avoid her? Free drinks? 

--

I'm so thrilled with the way this came out! It's probably the longest I've worked on a piece, from 3D rendering the background, to painting the Princess, THE DRESS. I'm very excited to share this with you all! Hope you like it!

Find out more about my book by following my tag ‘Boy Toy’

[jorvikzelda]

Words: 2954 Relationships: Mario Bergen & Elizabeth Sunbeam Characters: Mario Bergen, Elizabeth Sunbeam, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Character Death, Canonical Character Death, POV Third Person, from Mario's pov, Almost No Dialogue, Mario-Centric, Introspection, guys I cannot stress this enough. ANGST, OC Soul Rider

It is the night before the new moon. The stargazer is not expecting company until tomorrow, but she arrives anyway, a night early and carrying with her the strange melancholy of an ending soon to come. The ending comes, indeed; dreaded enough to almost be expected, and yet so long before its time that nothing could ever have prepared for it. Or: Mario, Elizabeth, and the muffins.

This fic is part of the SSOBlr Big Bang, organised by @froggistain. There is a companion piece to this fic by Apollinariya Cometsky @scrubjay28: which can be found here! All Big Bang works are also reblogged to @ssoblrbigbang.

Thanks as always to Manda @shiroselia for beta reading! This one had 40 glaring grammatical errors of varying severity in it. They are now fixed.

[art]

Submitted by @p-artsypants

See more of my art by searching through my tag, or on my Instagram. 

Find out more about this ballroom scene from my book ‘Boy Toy’. 

At the age of 21, Princess Apollinariya of Halov lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is nowhere to be found, she requests the toymaker, Leo, to create one for her. Enter Freckles, a life-like wind up doll, holding more secrets than anyone could imagine. It’s safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned.

[cubemagnet14]

This is probably not a good idea, but here's my self-insert weird daydream fanfiction fantasy I wrote bc I need feedback

And he asked me.

"Do you want this? Do you enjoy this?"

I'm not happy about that. I enjoy him. He adores me, I adore him too. We revel in each other's presence. But it only lasts for a moment. And he suffers again.

I can't help him. Mainly because he does not require help. Never did, never will. He's so perfect. We are not a couple, I am not the other half. He is not half, he is whole. Always has been, and always will be. I love him and support him, but I'm not happy about this situation either. None of us are happy about it. None of us wanted it this way, but that's just how it turned out.

You have to work with what you have. Even if we suffer in the process. I have to support him as much as I can. That's all I can do for him. That's probably all for now. Mainly because he wouldn't let me help him more. That's enough for him. He never wanted more. I could give him so much more, but he wouldn't take it. Even the good things can cause harm to you after some extent, he always says.

He will never change. I don't even want him to change. Others would certainly play the savior, but I don't want to redeem him. I love him the way he is. I love him for who he is, not for who he could be. Because he couldn't be anyone else. He wouldn't change even if he was forced to. He wouldn't let himself get tortured. I wouldn't want him to let himself get tormented either. He needs understanding. No one ever understood him. He was different from the others. Very different. He went through too much that he shouldn't have. He was too young. Way too young. He should never have seen so much.

Ignorance is bliss, he always says. He's right. It would have been much better if he didn't see the things he did. We can't go back now. I can't do anything about it anymore. What's done is done. No matter how much I try to calm him down with kind words, the crying child will not stop crying in the depths of his soul. I alone am not enough for this. Certainly not enough.

He always says that I'm doing everything I can, but I still feel helpless. So powerless. So weak. I want to do more for him. However, I can't give him what he needs most. I can't give him back his childhood because I didn't take it away. I can't get it back either. I can't pretend I can. I don't want to lie to him. He wouldn't lie to me either. He has never lied to me and never will. I know he wouldn't. I trust him.

Our relationship is built on trust. There has never been a time when, when I reached into his pocket, I should have been afraid of finding something there that I should not have seen. But he doesn't share everything with me. If I ask something that he can't tell me, he just listens, quietly, but never lies. He wouldn't do that to me. He wouldn't want me to do that to him either. He doesn't expect anything from me that he wouldn't do. The reverse is also true. Mainly because we don't want to put the other person in an uncomfortable situation.

My brother asked me the question. I visited home. I visited home for the first time after three years. A lot has changed. But my brother didn't. He remained the same. He's just as hesitant. He can't sit still. He found out about my secret relationship, which I didn't tell anyone about. There are no secrets before him, he will find out anything.

He asked me again.

"Apollinariya answer me! Do you really want this?"

I won't answer. I don't know what to say to him. If I speak now, I'll only make things worse.

He yelled at me.

"Say no! Say that you don't want this!"

Then his voice slowly faded away.

"Please say no. Say that he's just forcing you!"

He started crying. The family house was quiet. It's too quiet. You could only hear two things: my brother crying and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Emptiness. It's like we weren't even at home. This place is completely foreign now.

Our mother was in another room. She was looking for something for us. She said it was a surprise. She said we would be happy if we found out what it was. I wasn't so sure about it at that point. My brother thought that as long as our mother was not here, he would be confronting me. But of course, I know him. I knew from the very beginning that he would burst into tears. I knew he would be sensitive. It's always been like that. Especially when it was about me. We were inseparable as children. Now we can live without each other, but the love we felt for one another remains. This outburst on my brother's part was proof enough. He's still interested in how I am and what I'm doing. That's why he was investigating me. It was successful. I wish it wasn't.

Ignorance is bliss, he always says. He's right. He is always right. Now also on the example of my dear brother. If only he didn't know the truth.

I held him close and hugged him.

"It's okay Dmitriy, it's okay."

He just cried and cried and cried. Like he never wanted to stop. I didn't even have to answer the question. He figured it out on his own. I didn't want that to happen either. However, I had no other choice. He didn't either. Dimitri had it. He didn't live with it.

"At least stop while Mom shows the surprise she planned!"

He sniffed, and then the tears stopped. He finally calmed down. At that moment, our mother entered the room with a thick, huge book in her hand.

"What happened my sweet little angel?"

Our mother always spoke to Dimitri in such a sweet manner. It's just a habit now.

"Nothing, I'm just so happy that we can be here again after all these years."

He has never lied to our mother before.

[movienized-com]

Sosedka

Sosedka (Serie 2023) #AlekseyChadov #YuliyaKhlynina #MariyaShumakova #EgorKoreshkov #DmitriyLysenkov #ElenaValyushkina Mehr auf:

Serie / Соседка / Die NachbarinJahr: 2023- (November) Genre: Comedy / Drama / Romantik Hauptrollen: Aleksey Chadov, Yuliya Khlynina, Mariya Shumakova, Egor Koreshkov, Dmitriy Lysenkov, Elena Valyushkina, Igor Khripunov, Darya Pitsik, Anastasiya Svetlova, Apollinariya Vetlugina … Serienbeschreibung: Fjodor Sadovski, 35, ist ein sensibler Geschäftsmann mit makelloser Reputation. Seine Obsession…

[tosrp]

August- September 1

After that night we saw Shepard things had been tense between Hayes and me. Our families were still staying in the same house sheltering in place, so it was mostly me avoiding him.

Just to spite him, I had contacted Shephard and we had begun texting each other through August. I didn’t really like him like that, I had only ever liked one person like that in my life…

Shephard was everything Hayes was not. He told me how beautiful I was, he liked me in a way that was new and intriguing to me.

I had just told my sister about Shep, and she didn’t trust him. Which honestly made it that more exciting for me.

One day only a few days before we were leaving for St. Andrews I got a letter from Dean Konstantinov telling me I was moving rooms and getting a new roommate. He gave me the name of the girl then warned me that being at this school was a privilege, and I was still on his watch.

I rolled my eyes then looked more closely at the name of the new student I was to be rooming with. Apollinariya Vladimirovich. I knew that name for some reason. I just didn’t know how.

I heard Hayes walking to his room, which was next to mine. I walked out of my bedroom and forgot I was annoyed at him. I smiled and handed him the letter.

He looked confused as I was talking to him like old times, and relieved I was in a better mood.

“ Apollinariya Vladimirovich, I know that name, why do I know that name?” I asked him

“Because she is vampire royalty?” he asked smirking at me. “You are going to be rooming with a princess”

I connected the dots in my head then frowned “Another entitled vampire girl great!”

He laughed and nodded then looked at me” Hey Lynnie, long time no talk” he said softly.

“Hayes”

“I’m”

We said at the same time. I blushed a little and said to him to go ahead.

“I was just going to apologize. I know you weren’t siding with Shephard…I know you don’t like him. It was stupid.”

“Actually, we’ve been texting, and he isn’t bad Hayes” I said blushing again.

“Oh… well then…I’m still sorry for being a jerk to you” he said looking at the hardwood floor.

“I’m sorry for avoiding you for almost a month…can we be best friends again?” I asked hopefully.

“C’mere you” he said giving me a big hug.

#

The first of September we went back to St. Andrews. I was excited, but very nervous. I left this school in a mystery last spring. And I was getting a new roommate as well. She couldn’t be worse than the last one, could she?

My suitcases were already in my new bigger room. I began putting my decorations up when I heard a knock. I looked up and it was Shepherd Cabral holding bouquet of pink roses.

“Hey Peaches” he said holding out the roses.

“Come in Shepherd” I said giggling.

He sat the roses down and ran to me picking me up in a hug. He swung me around making me a little dizzy.

“New digs” He asked putting me down and looking at the space.

I nodded getting a vase for the flowers. Carnations were my favorites, but it was the thought that counted.

So, Mordella just disappeared?” He asked coming over to me and placing his arms around my waist.

“Yea” I said softly.

He nuzzled my neck” Do you know where she disappeared to?” he asked

“No, we don’t” Hayes voice came from the threshold.

I pulled away from Shephard’s advances and went to Hayes.

“Please come in Hayes” I said more welcoming I had with Shep.

Hayes stepped inside and Shep rolled his eyes giving him a wave.

“Lynnie I was just coming by to see if you needed help, but um…I didn’t know you had company.

“It’s okay” I said smiling taking his hand in mine leading him to my side of the room.

He smiled back, and Shep sighed “We need scheduled times to see you Peaches”

I laughed” Nah, we can all be friends “I said looking at both boys.

“Yea, why the hell not” Shephard said. “Let’s all go feed”

Hayes spoke up” Even though we are back at school…”

“Come on man!” Shep said taking us by the shoulder, him in the middle.

“It’ll be fine” I said more to myself than either of them.

We walked out of the room together.

#

It was indeed past curfew when we snuck into the magically gated yard. Shep and Hayes worked together with their affinities to get us inside. I was still giggling from the blood.

Shephard kissed me as he had been doing all night. This time I didn’t shy away, I was high from whatever was in my guy’s bloodstream.

Hayes looked away and said good night to both of us and went to the direction of his dorm. I said bye to my best friend a little too loudly.

“Shh” He whispered but chuckled anyway.

“I better go” I said trying to detangle myself from Shep’s grasp.

“I could come with you. Keep you safe” He whispered in my ear.

“Not yet” was all I said, and he nodded understanding.

I walked to my dorm and snuck past the guard and went up the stairs to my room. I expected it to be pitch black, not light coming through the door. My anxiety started to rise, and I heard a distant clap of thunder in the distance. I unlocked the door, and my pink and purple decorated room was overshadowed by the deep tones and luxury filled the air.

A girl my age was on the other bed and when she saw me she smiled softly. She was beautiful. Her eyes a long could stop traffic. She was stunning.

“You must be Emberlynn Easton” She said standing up walking over to shake my hand.

“Lynnie, I prefer Lynnie” I said shaking her hand attentively.

“And you are Apollinariya Vladimirovich vampire royalty” I said giggling

“I prefer Lina” she said as the  the room fill with silence.

[showyourhand]

Apollinariya

ok so, i know i said i didn’t really plan on doing any writing here but i just knocked this out on the back of my recent eldritch revival and i just love the characters so! i don’t really know if i’ll do anything more with them or not but i do like the concept so who knows… hope yall like 2k of whatever the hell this is

(also, excuse my flagrant adoption of the Lovecraft aesthetic and parts of lore cobbled together with my own as i am by no means well informed on Lovecraftian lore intricacies)

-

Renée Van Daal's phone almost slid off the arm of the seat with the force of the incoming call. She sighed, muted the TV and stepped over to the window to get better service before she answered the call.

Outside, the city had stilled to its usual stilted nighttime tempo and the dry daytime air had turned into a howling wind and a biting cold, driving those walking home into an uncomfortably quick pace. Someone, most likely a drunk person downing whiskey to stave off the chill, stumbled down the road and fell out of her eye line just below her window. Renée knew that, if the poor soul decided to knock on the door of the apartment block, she would have to be the one to go down, hook the chain, speak words of empty solace, and hand over any loose change she found between the sofa cushions. No one else had enough to spare—empathy or money.

She wiped away the edges of condensation creeping into the poorly insulated window. There was a draft blowing in the corners of the pane, an absence of heat resulting in a pull of bitterness.

She rubbed her nail over the crack in her phone screen. It obscured the caller ID, but only her mother called her anyway.

She accepted the call.

"Renée, is that you?" A voice that was decidedly not composed enough to be her mother said, "Renée Van Daal?"

"Yeah, it's me," she spluttered, "Who is this? How did you get my number?"

"It's Apollinariya, we're in the same history lectures." That explained why the echo was oddly familiar, the back of a head and the scrawl of notes appearing in her mind's eye. "Look... I need a favour."

Renée regarded the paintwork she had been staring at with suspicion, idle, frantic fingers picking pieces off. The line crackled momentarily as Apollinaryia—such a strange name, wonder where she's from—moved away from the microphone, a nearby wincing could be heard.

"What do you need?"

"You live at the end of Upper Kain, right? Can I come in? It'll be a lot easier to explain if we're face to face," Apollinariya said, voice strained. She then hung up without so much as a pause to find out if she was on the right road. Renée dropped her phone on the sofa and darted about her three-room apartment to find anything to defend herself with if it went south. Not that she expected Apollinariya to hurt her. She just expected her not to be there.

Finding the letter knife from her mother inside the bowl of keys and assorted junk, she slid it into her back pocket concealed by her jumper and slipped out of her apartment, making sure the door closed properly on her way out.

She descended the stairs whose walls were so garishly papered sometime in the seventies and never given an update. People often complained about headaches as a result; the walls were so narrow that it felt as if you were going to be consumed by some all-encompassing retro nightmare.

The door to 36-40 Upper Kain Street had two locks and a chain on it. Renée unlocked it with a tremor in her hand but kept the chain on. It wouldn't do much against someone who really wanted to get inside but it had never had to do much since there wasn't much worth getting inside for on Upper Kain. She opened the door.

Outside, shaking propped up on the wall, stood Apollinariya, clutching her right arm close to her chest. Her eyes were shining as she looked up to greet Renée, mouth pulled out of a grimace and into a hopeful smile so delicate, it looked as if the wind would shatter it.

"Hi," she stuttered, "Can I come in? It's quite cold out here."

Renée ushered her inside and double-locked the door behind them, pointing Apollinariya up the staircase.

"First on the left," she said, falling in step behind her as the stairs were too narrow for them to walk side by side.

"This wallpaper is giving me a headache."

"Everyone says that. You get used to it after a while."

Apollinariya scoffed, then drew a sharp intake of breath.

"Really?"

"No," Renée laughed.

They had reached the first floor and Renée guided Apollinariya down the passage to her front door. As soon as she opened it, Apollinariya breathed a heavy sigh and collapsed once more against the wall, shutting her eyes as she held her arm closer to her chest. Renée locked the door behind them. She slid the letter opener out of her pocket and back into the bowl. Apollinariya's eyes shot open but she kept her mouth pressed in a grim line.

"What do you need?" Renée said, clamping down on her shaking hands. She crossed the room and drew the flimsy curtains, then flicked on the living area light so that everything was bathed in a sickly light.

"Well, it's a lot to ask of you already, but I must have your word that you won't mention it ever again, nor will you think about it once I leave. Can I trust you with this?" She had closed her eyes again as if reluctant to see Renée's eyes grow wider at the prospect, laboured breaths filling the growing unease with an edge of panic.

"Yes," Renée faltered, "If you have to, then I won't say anything more."

Apollinariya smiled softly and slid open her eyes in which tears were gathering. They looked at each other for a division of time uncountable, both searching for something they didn't know the name. Apollinariya blinked once—a long and ancient respite—then slid to the floor half-conscious.

Renée's scream was cut off by her hands clamping over her mouth.

"Oh my god, you're going to be ok, we're just going to—" She looked around for something, anything that could help. "I'll get you to the kitchen table and then we can call an ambulance. Do you have health insurance?"

Apollinariya groaned as Renée slid her arm around her shoulders and pulled her across the room into a chair at the table, adjusting her so that her head was rested in the corner of the wall. The beginnings of an evening meal were already set out on the embroidered tablecloth. Renée pried Apollinariya's arm from her chest and felt her heart drop out of her ribcage.

A long, vicious, bubbling gash traced the length of her forearm, cutting deep and getting deeper by the second as if some corrosive substance had been placed in a cut and left to fester. The blood had congealed under the layer of tainted flesh, almost purple under the kitchen lights, and the skin around the wound was icy to the touch. Apollinariya flashed a lopsided smile through gritted teeth. Her brow had gathered a cold sweat.

Renée's breath hitched in her throat and she swallowed whatever her stomach was about to force up out of stress. Shaking her head, she snapped back to action and retrieved her phone from the sofa, laying it on the table in front of Apollinayria before tearing up cupboards for medical supplies.

"Ok, hang in there. I'll have a first aid kit somewhere, I swear, just hold on a second. Can you call 9—"

Her tremulous hand was caught in action by Apollinariya's own, who gazed upon her with a refreshed air of severity. She pulled away and stepped back so her back was against her fridge-freezer. The magnets were shifting beneath her palms.

"Not a first aid kit. You'll need your class bag, the one for Outlier Entities and Interactions with Physicality," Apollinaryia said, voice barely above a whisper. The weight of her eyes became abruptly eerie; dangerously alluring. Renée blinked.

"Why on earth would I need that?"

"Please trust me, I know what to do. I'll give you an explanation later if you still want one but for now, I need you to do this for me." She sounded on the edge of delusion. Renée took a steadying breath and broke eye contact once again, dashing to her bedroom to dive through her university equipment.

She returned but a minute later with battered leather doctor's bag in hand and scooped up the dinner implements in the tablecloth which she proceeded to place on the worktop behind her before depositing her bag on the table. The sigh of relief that escaped from Apollinariya's lips was almost enough to convince Renée that she had been cured just by the sight of aid. Now she was back in her realm of knowledge that, however much pressure the situation put her under, Renée knew she understood full well. There was a reason she enjoyed her free time in the biology labs at the University.

"Alright, what do I do now?"

Apollinariya laughed, a dry, tenuous sound from the back of her throat.

"Work your magic, Renée, I don't need to tell you what to do. You're the one taking Interactions with Physicality," she said affectionately. Renée ignored the reverence the tone implied and decided to hold all questions with irredeemably terrifying implications until Apollinariya wasn't in immediate danger of dying. She calmed herself with a momentary close of her eyes and set about her work.

Applying the knowledge and skills she had learnt (or at least read about and then performed unsanctioned experiments to test) was something she never thought she'd have to do yet the composure of the basement laboratory had settled over her like a cloak and enabled her hands to heal with certainty. Dried herbs in cloudy jars, bags of charcoal and bones, bundles of black feathers, small knives in leather sheaths, and leaves of bark from willow trees had spread across the table in Renée's mission to treat this injury like an extra-curricular exercise. Swift flicks burnt matches that made intoxicating scents, numbing Apollinariya's pain response before the concoction from the mortar seeped into the wound.

Apollinariya still screamed. Her face changed for a split second in her agony, fingernails searching for purchase in her palms while something moved under her skin—or on it, Renée couldn't say.

"It's ok, I'm so sorry but it's going to hurt for a while before I can make it better. I have to pull out whatever's causing the corrosion. Can you hold on just a little while longer?" Renée said, trying to be as quietly encouraging as she could. She pushed apart the fingers whose ferocity in self-destruction could have drawn blood and clutched them as the two waited for the remedy to complete its task.

The air became groans and whispers in another tongue.

The moon, by the time the two spoke again, had almost met the horizon.

"Renée?"

"Yes, Apollinariya?"

"I think I'll be ok now. I can't feel the burning anymore," she said, voice hoarse and wretched. Brushing ashes from her trousers, she stood up and clutched her head, attempting to regain her balance.

"You shouldn't go now, you've only just recovered!" Renée rose too and moved to block the hallway. Apollinariya sighed and snapped her gaze to Renée with instant clarity, all previous injured sluggishness shed like a snake's skin. The flesh on her arm had already turned back to its usual colour and new skin was forming where it had been lost. The air around her shimmered scarcely.

"It'll be fine, don't worry."

Apollinariya moved to push past her but Renée stepped backwards in time. Her fingers found the letter opener. Apollinaryia's eyes snapped to it, breath hitching with poor concealment of the tightening of her fists.

"I said don't worry," she demanded and this time her voice went through a kaleidoscope in Renée's ears. She loosened her grip on the knife. Apollinariya, afforded a window of opportunity, slid past Renée (she could swear her shoulder was halfway inside the wall) and unlocked the door by touch. She spared but a glance to Renée.

"What about the explanation?" Renée called as Apollinariya descended the stairway, her footsteps making no sound.

"You'll figure it out, I'm sure. Nevertheless, it involved a rather rude priest."

The sound of the chain re-hooking itself echoed up the hallway and Apollinariya was gone, not even the flicker of her coat in the wind could be seen from Renée's first-floor window.

[defining-names]

Slavic names Spring, suggestion 2:

Apollinariya

This alluring Russian name is a derivative of the original Greek God Apollo, meaning 'Strong Healer'.

Apollinariya is known for being the name of multiple Russian models, and it gives a sensual feeling, sultry and spicy 🌶

I adore all the plethora of nickname options, such as Polly, Pollina, Apple, Aria and Nari. Just so much variety with this one.

[archived-miraculous-belgium]

✎ for @ask-miraculous-nyorussia please?

@ask-miraculous-nyorussia It’s!!! Your girl!!!

[grishatube-gossip]

Capital ‘R’ Rake: The King of Ravka

Not days after breaking off his promising engagement to the honourable Miss Apollinariya Lazarov, adored by the public until her recent charge with attempted murder, the King of Ravka was seen in a suggestive EMBRACE with none other than Genya Safin, key member of the Triumvirate and David Kostyk's wife. Perhaps her marriage with the oddball scientist has gone stale, and led her to seek entertainment elsewhere… 

Months before, rumours circulated of the King's indecent entanglement with General Nazyalensky, with whom he was seen out of the palace at unholy hours of night— though, this isn’t really news; we know Nazyalensky’s been a conquest for many high-profile figures, and it’s with no surprise that we add the notoriously lecherous King’s name to her list of flings. 

It seems that our King has no regard for either his Reputation or Ravka's. Not only is he brazenly unwed, and intent on remaining such, but seems to be bent on trifling with women, instead of realising his responsibility to the throne, to his country. How can Lantsov be expected to control a country, when he can’t even control his own urges? When push comes to shove, will the King rise to the occasion, or sink to a new and immodest low? Time will tell, but for the record, my money’s on the latter. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…

[linwritesif]

Apollinariya Alexeyeva Artyomovna § MC for @thesecrimsonstrings-if

Life used to have meaning, she thought. Another life time ago, when the taste of honey was sweet, and didn’t fill her mouth with ash. When the scent of roses didn’t bring back the smell of burning wood. When something like a simple touch didn’t burn her skin, sending waves of pain through her body. Life used to have meaning. Before she died. Before humanity snuffed out the young flame, before they crushed the love of the vampire right before her eyes. Fury was too soft of a word to describe what she felt, grief didn’t even begin to describe the vampire’s anguish. Fresh, human blood marked her hands for many years after her death, although less and less with every decade. Not for the sudden empathy for humans, it just became... not worth it, anymore. It didn’t ease the pain, it didn’t make the memories go away. It didn’t wash away the terror from her nightmares. Fire, however. That fascinated her. Destructive and hungry. Wild, untamed but beautiful in it’s most feral form. The last thing that made her feel. The fire was her, and she would keep it burning for as long as she walked the dirt of this human world. 

Fascinated by fire § Loves dark rum § Smokes chocolate-scented cigarettes

Violence is a question and the answer is ‘yes’ § Short but fierce

[p-artsypants]

Two new backgrounds! Am I getting better at 3d renders? I think so! Am I avoiding actually writing the book by working on the art? Also yes. 

The first is the castle of Halov, where a majority of the story takes place. The mountains need help. I'll paint them in better. But I learned how to paint texture onto the models, soooo maybe I'll have more shortcuts. 

And the second is the wedding hall in chapter...5 or 6. It was chapter 3 in the original, but I'm spacing out all the events a little more.

At the age of 21, Princess Apollinariya of Halov lawfully has to pick a husband. But when the perfect groom is nowhere to be found, she requests the toymaker, Leo, to create one for her. Enter Freckles, a life-like wind up doll, holding more secrets than anyone could imagine. It's safe to say that everyone in the kingdom is a little concerned.

I originally wrote the story for a creative writing class, overhauled it into a HTTYD fanfic, and now I’m overhauling it AGAIN back into an original tale. I’m fleshing out the characters, adding illustrations, adding scenes, and basically rewriting the ending. All characters and art will be tagged as ‘Boy Toy’. I think some of the OG fanfic stuff is under that tag too. I hope you’ll all get excited with me!  

[cloudgirlsinfo]

Apollinariya

[bobrosseswhitepaint]

excerpt from a book ill never write because i deserve it (#1/?) -

i. the beginning

Many people hold two faces.

All faces hold true to character in some way, pieces of a personality moulding together in different ways to create a face.

One, the persona that many people come to know and love (or hate), and the other a more true face, a face that only few know and see.

Apollinariya Balotelli holds three faces.

The “main” face, as it could be deemed, is the one that holds the least true. A face that holds an aura of confidence, casualness and humour, and yet one that is quiet and collected at the same time. A face that only talks when talked to, but once started may never shut up. A rambler, birthed from years of the inability to speak, a coping mechanism. The face that deems her the coolest person to live today. A face that strikes fear and awe at the same time, although the metal arm and the scars may fuel the latter.

The second face is the face their prey sees; the hunter becoming the hunted. Apollo has never been one for guns. But blades? Blades face a different story. This face is the face of the trained killer, the calm and even more collected version of the girl, the face that presents when she gets overly protective, or the face that shows when He is back on the map, resurfacing once again. This is the face of a soldier without an order, a face that is the one thing they try to run from, a past that wasn’t her fault. The face that their friends joke about, how they have managed to become their favourite characters without even realising. Apollinariya wishes she never even felt a hint of relation to the characters she holds so dear.

The third face is the face no one sees. A face that people have come close to seeing, when she rips out a scream when they wake up in the middle of the night, a mechanism she abandoned long ago to not wake up their parents and be more of a burden. This face, she decides, is her least favourite. Too scared, too broken for her liking. A face that should not exist for the person they deem death itself. Or a genius - on a good day. This face should not belong in the shell of a person, in the eyes of someone who has seen far too much in so little time. Someone who has seen things that most won’t even dream of in their lifetime.

She decides no one will live to see this face, so long as she may live. Because the face doesn’t match, the face should not belong to someone who is deemed the smartest person alive, the kindest, the most fearless. The other faces strike fear into many, regardless of whether they respect her or not.

This face, they decide, must die. An impossible mission, but one she aims to complete every single day. She has never failed a mission. Ever.

This one is eating her alive.