#cure happy kin

[dollarstore-kins]

Pokemon Trainer Card for Cure Happy requested by @analogdetective​ !!

We hope you like it! And if you want to switch out any pokemon, let us know :3

-Mod ET

[tentaclemagician]

Am I valid as a cure happy kin from the smile! precure novel when the entire cast is in their 20's

[bitchfitch]

Idk man, chase and his sire have been on my mind lately. bc like.

Like imagine this. You're young and your skin just feels Wrong. you hate everything about yourself and dream of a day you walk onto a stage utterly unrecognizable to all who knew you before. You're trying to find your missing piece, you're your family's dirty secret. Everything you do is wrong, and no one will tell you what right is.

And then a string of bad choices lands you in the company of someone who Finally makes it all click. They understand, They don't blink twice when you ask them to call you by a different name. They seem to know all the little things that are broken with you and can piece them back together with gentler hands than you'd ever known possible. They don't make you feel complete, they just helped you find it yourself.

You're young, they're not. They praise you and adore you and trade you more and more and only ask for little things in return. A kiss a fuck, a little bit of blood, a night of ecstasy on a drug they'll never tell you the name of. You're hooked. You're rotting from the inside out as they and their liquor sweet words become as addictive as the medicines they have you drink. You're so happy. You don't remember how to be anything else.

They kill you. It wasn't on purpose, but they were the one to push you to go another round, to take another dose, to ignore the pain in your veins until you felt your heart die in your chest. They killed you. and they brought you back just as easily. Made you just like them. Immortal and immune to the poisons you once loved.

You can't get high anymore, but the addiction is gone, they feed you their own blood. Care for you while you learn this new way of living. They tell you they love you so many times. You always say it back.

They keep taking. Keep pushing, and pushing and pushing until finally it goes to far. You fight back for the first time. They don't so much as strike you. Just say they were disappointed and leave you alone.

For weeks they leave you alone. You feel hunger for the first time in your un-life. You feel the poisons that never left your veins creeping over your mind once more. You used to love the feeling of a good high.

They come back only when you're delirious with it, so far gone that you say yes and obey. They reward you with their own blood. You never thought being sober could feel so good. You swear you've learned your lesson.

You did

You learned it was all conditional. You learned the true shape of the noose they had around your neck.

They find other things to fancy. You go longer between meals, until finally you break and hunt for yourself for the first time. You don't know who it is you kill. Who's throat you tear out like a wild dog, your teeth dull and human despite the hunger being sated by the life gushing from their veins. You feel alive like you were before you met your sire. Your mouth burns with that human's taste.

It doesn't satisfy you for nearly as long as your sire's blood does.

Their attentions towards you come and go. When they're there it's like those days before you were turned. They tell you they love you and you still always say it back. No one makes you feel as known as they do. No one knows you like they do. They'd never let someone else into your life even as they've found so many others to doll out their attention to.

You leave. They don't follow.

the world moves on without you. You don't age. You don't change. New medicines that would have cured all that made you fall into that monster's grasp become available. Surgeries and shots and special little pills. None of it matters for you now.

They took that chance away from you when they gave you your immortality and addiction to them.

You say you don't miss them.

They come into town and ask if you're free to go dancing again. They brought gifts and silver words and promises that you are unique amongst your new kin. You know they've said it to every other amor they've taken.

You still want to believe it when they smile at you.

[blueeyescleo]

When God created the woman, he was working late on the 6th day....... An angel came by and asked." Why spend so much time on her?" The lord answered. "Have you seen all the specifications I have to meet to shape her?" She must function on all kinds of situations, She must be able to embrace several kids at the same time, Have a hug that can heal anything from a bruised knee to a broken heart, She must do all this with only two hands,"She cures herself when sick and can work 18 hours a day" THE ANGEL was impressed "Just two hands.....impossible! And this is the standard model?" The Angel came closer and touched the woman."But you have made her so soft, Lord. " "She is soft," said the Lord, "but I have made her strong. You can't imagine what she can endure and overcome." "Can she think?" The Angel asked... The Lord answered. "Not only can she think, she can reason and negotiate." The Angel touched her cheeks.... "Lord, it seems this creation is leaking! You have put too many burdens on her. " "She is not leaking...it is a tear. " The Lord corrected the Angel… "What's it for?" Asked the Angel..... . The Lord said. "Tears are her way of expressing her grief, her doubts, her love, her loneliness, her suffering, and her pride."... This made a big impression on the angel, "Lord, you are a genius. You thought of everything. A woman is indeed marvelous, " Lord said."Indeed she is. She has strength that amazes a man. She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens. She holds happiness, love, and opinions. She smiles when she feels like screaming. She sings when she feels like crying, cries when happy, and laughs when afraid. She fights for what she believes in. Her love is unconditional. Her heart is broken when a next-of-kin or a friend dies, but she finds strength to get on with life. " The Angel asked: "So she is a perfect being?" The lord replied: "No. She has just one drawback. She often forgets what she is worth."

~Unknown Author

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

In honour of Halloween I present to you some spooky AUs to think about. These are free to use however you may please (though... please tag me if you do, so I can see what you did! I love seeing what people think of stuff)

Werewolf!Shadowsight: This is exactly what it says on the tin. Ashfur infects Shadowpaw with an old transformation curse during Lost Stars that turns him into a large black wolf, hungry for blood.

Zombie!Skyclan: Skyclan is infected with a zombie virus rather than driven out by the Kin, and now heading to the lake at fast pace while Alderpaw and Sparkpaw try to come up with a cure with Twig and Violet, the only healthy cats left.

Lunar Eclipse Gathering: A Lunar Eclipse triggers an opening for the Dark Forest to walk amongst the living during a Gathering. Will they keep the peace, or will the blood moon earn its name?

Halloween Dark Forest: The spirits in the Dark Forest with more typical "spooky monster" designs, such as vampires, witches, ghouls, mummies and the like, this is more artsy for those who wanna add a "spooky" image to the Dark Forest (or maybe you just wanna imagine Hawkfrost as Frankenstein's Monster idk you do you)

Anyway, Happy Halloween, stay safe!

[the-littlest-kojin]

Writing with Shiomun: Love

I have noticed, in my time writing and reading the writing of others, a pervasive trend to conflate “love” with “romance”. I know that the best cure for this kind of misconception and conflation is education - so I am going to write about different kinds of love, using concepts I learned many years ago, derived from ancient Greek. A disclaimer: While I learned this and have done my best to research the information I am talking about, I am not an expert, and I could be incorrect - I am willing to be corrected and would love to see any material that contradicts me - I want to be educated myself, if I have misconceptions!

The types of love I am going to talk about today are Eros, Pragma, Ludus, Agape, Philia,  Philautia, Storge, and Mania.

Eros

Eros is erotic love, physical love.

Eros is the craving to have your hands on their body, their mouth on yours, entwined, close.

Eros is "I desire you as in physically."

In FFXIV, a representation of Eros is Haurchefant, towards the Warrior of Light.

“I say, be my personal steed!”

Pragma

Pragma is practical love, enduring love.

Pragma is waking up, every day, and making love work. It's the long marriage, the steady lifelong commitment.

Pragma is "I desire you in my life every day."

In FFXIV, a representation of Pragma is Ameliance, towards Fourchenault.

“Thus, did I pull them out of storage - to show you that he was not always the man who stands in vehement opposition to you now.”

Ludus

Ludus is playful love, flirtatious love.

Ludus is wanting to have fun with people, to laugh with them, play games, share experiences. 

Ludus is “I desire you have fun with me.”

In FFXIV, a representation of Ludus is Feo Ul, towards the Warrior of Light.

“Burn bright and shine as only you can. These blessings, your lovely branch will accept in your stead.”

Agape

Agape is universal love, selfless love.

It's the love for all living things by default, the abiding affection for the world because of the fact of its existence.

Agape is "I desire the world be happy."

In FFXIV, a representation of Agape is Venat, towards everybody.

“And amidst it all a people. Beacons of light and life. Laughter that warmed my heart like naught else before. They are my meaning and my purpose. My love.”

Philia

Philia is friendly love, companionly love.

It's your best friend who you'd never in a million years date but couldn't imagine your life without.

Philia is "I desire you stick around, my friend."

In FFXIV, a representation of Philia is Ardbert, towards the Warrior of Light.

“For what it's worth, I cast my lot with yours. If you need a push, I'll be right there behind you; if you lose control, I'll do my best to stop you. So─let us be about it, hero.”

Philautia

Philautia is love of the self.

It is to look inwards and see that you are as valid of love as anybody else.

It is self-compassion and self-esteem.

Philautia is "I desire that I be happy and cared for, by myself most of all."

In FFXIV, a representation of Philautia is Fray, towards the Warrior of Light.

“For I speak only for myself. If you find comfort in my words, they are yours for the taking, but that is your choice. Now and ever after, as it has always been.”

Storge

Storge is familiar love.

It is to look at your kith and kin and want them to flourish. It is gratefulness for them transposed into love.

Storge is "I desire you flourish for all you have done for me."

In FFXIV, a representation of Storge is Matoya, towards Y’shtola.

“It's good to see you again, my girl, and with your fiery spirit unquenched. But look at you - all grown up and womanly.”

Mania

Mania is crazed love, obsessed love.

It is the where things like codependency and toxic relationships live. It is also where obsession and jealousy live.

Mania is "I desire to possess you, no matter the pain."

In FFXIV, a representation of Mania is Asahi, towards Zenos.

“My lord was destined to lead us unto a glorious new age. Your light is nothing to his radiance.”

[whump-kin]

a visitor here

tysm to @just-a-silly-little-whumper for letting me write your guys interacting with mine!! i hope i captured elze'ith's personality well enough. i would kill for him. he wouldnt even have to ask id just do it

this is a noncanon crossover between cal (my lil dude) and their elze'ith, taking place a few hours after this (very good read!)

CWs: uncomfortable healing magic, blood, slight vomiting, implied past abuse.

-

Most people in Cal’s situation would have been delighted. 

Whisked away from their cruel captor, enlisted into whimsical adventures with two monster hunters that had taken a liking to him. Traveling the land in search of a cure for his condition, the protection of two heroes by his side, who loved him like family. 

Unfortunately, Cal happened to like being trapped in a gothic castle, serving the vampire who sired him. Whenever Bryn tried to talk to him about how his Lord saw him as little more than a possession, Cal replied it was nice to be wanted, and the conversation rather forcefully ended there. 

Currently, he was justifying what he’d done by reassuring himself that this would surely, on some level, result in his return to the closest thing he had to a father. After all, he knew enough of the world to know that grace is often repaid, and what could be more of a gesture of goodwill than warning someone of their impending demise by way of vampire hunters? 

He didn’t think too much about why he wanted to return. It made his body ache and filled his head with that exhausting fog, so he just ignored it and carried on. He needed to get home. To the castle. To his Lord. 

And besides, if he’d learned anything from his Lord, it was that vampires of status spoke to one another. Correspondence, mostly. But they were always, always in touch. 

That in mind, he’d crept through the door at what appeared to be just the right time. His Lord, after all, was well-known, if reclusive, and on his Lord’s status alone Cal had earned a place at a fine party. 

He hated those sorts of affairs. 

But still, it was one step closer to home. He felt a little out of place, tugging his shirt’s collar to keep it snug, sitting in a corner and watching everyone mingle. 

These were his people, his kin, though by technicality he was little more than a child to them. Coasting on his Lord’s status, deflecting comments about how sad it was that his Lord sent a servant or how pitiful that he couldn’t come, and asking questions that got tiring after the first three rounds of faux-politeness. 

People nudging him, pointing to Lord Denholm and his servant, saying he should live a little, when was the chance he’d have this opportunity again?

It was a miracle he’d been able to shut himself up in the corner. He never thought he’d miss being locked in a convent’s dungeon. 

So when the guests left, and his gracious host waved him off to find somewhere to sleep, Cal was more than happy to scuttle away. Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought to ask about where he could find something resembling guest quarters, and so he found himself wandering about darkened halls, trying not to be afraid. 

And one room called to him. Back home, at the castle he longed to return to, he knew every room. Every corridor. But here he was afraid, flinching at every sound. So when one room had a door slightly open, a warm light emanating from it, he didn’t think to be afraid. All he saw was a place where he could at least get his bearings. 

Slowly, he opened the door just wide enough to slip through. A bedroom, it seemed, large and well-kept. Composed like a painting, eyes leading him to the bed, and- 

Oh.

Oh.

It was the pretty thing. The one he’d seen while he shrunk away in the corner, the star of the show. Though from what Cal had seen, he didn’t seem to be entirely cognizant of that… or anything at all, really. He was under blankets, looking like he’d been tossed down and tucked in, and Cal immediately knew that he was very likely not supposed to be here. 

That doesn’t stop him from taking a few steps further into the room, sleeping at the foot of the bed. 

The man laying before him is ethereal, and Cal can’t quite work out if it’s because of his long white hair splayed out like a halo around him, pointy ears, and the way the half-moon scar traces around his eye like it’s trying to say something, or if it’s how he’s laying on the bed, looking like he’s been through hell and then some, the prettiest green eyes Cal has ever seen half-lidded and staring off into space. 

He recognizes the look. 

He chooses not to say anything. 

Instead, he sits on the floor. Just so he’s in the man’s line of sight, back to the wall, staring. 

He can wait.

After what feels like an eternity, when he’s counted every bauble on the shelves twice, the man’s eyes shift, locking onto Cal’s. He wasn’t good at reading people, but he was pretty sure that was a flicker of recognition. Not of knowledge, but Cal knew he’d probably been spotted among the many.

They stay like that for a bit, the elf’s eyes on him, Cal frozen like a statue as he tries to figure out what to do. Out of habit, his chest rises and falls, the only movement in his cold, dead body.

Eventually, he stands, but he’s not sure if that’s a choice he made or his body acting on its own. Cal takes the few short steps over to the bed, to stand over the elf, hand moving to hover over him slightly, twitching almost imperceptibly with a hunger he was still learning to suppress. 

The man’s eyes looked up with a terror that was palpable, but the rest of his body exuded resignation. Cal hesitated. What would it have taken for someone else to look upon him like this? 

(Had anyone… looked upon him like this? He would have been asleep. He had no way of knowing.) 

He shook the thought from his head and doffed his glove. Pitying himself would get him nowhere. But pitying this one was a path forwards. 

“Easy,” he mumbled, not really paying attention to what words fell from his mouth, just trying to break the painful silence. “I’m, um. I’m not here to hurt you. It’s okay.” 

Shit. He wasn’t supposed to be here, doing any of this. He was supposed to be at the castle, reorganizing the library, cleaning the eternal mess of his own volition, napping in the moonlight. But no. He was here, and so he had to help this poor creature. And yet he couldn’t spit out more than a fragmented little sentence in an attempt to rid the elf of the muted panic. 

At the glint of his fangs in the dim light, the elf seemed to resign himself to his fate, shifting around to uncover his arm from under the comforter, moving to expose his wrist. It took Cal a moment to realize the mistake, and in a panic, he used his gloved hand to press the elf’s arm and torso down, the other one over his neck. 

In healing those used as feeding cattle, Cal had learned, the neck artery was the most important. It was fed on most often for a reason, so encouraging blood replenishment from there was the best place to start. 

His hand fumbled for a second, before it found the fang marks he was looking for- apparently his gracious host habitually fed from a slightly different spot than Cal’s lord- and pressed his hand down, trying not to suffocate the poor thing. 

A small scuffle ensued, before Cal got his footing and began to breathe. It was messy, it always was when they didn’t sit still like Bryn did, but as he mumbled the words the elf began to calm down, recognizing that this would not be an attack, not be whatever vile thing he was so accustomed to.

He simply settled down and let Cal heal him. 

The process wasn’t always pretty. Cal’s magic, he’d been told, was potent, but not polished. His mana flowed from him with an intensity that healed the wounds, flowed from his mouth and hands to bind itself into the elf’s body. Cal closed his eyes, chanting quietly under his breath, feeling the warmth return under his hand, the flesh and veins knitting themselves together. From what he’d been told, returning blood to a body didn’t hurt, but it was a weird sensation. Almost itchy, but not quite. He felt the transfer of mana and energy flow through him, like a rush of water. 

Unfortunately, the fact his magic was more powerful than it was delicate, and Cal opened his eyes at a choking sound, seeing blood leaking from the elf’s nose. 

Shit.

Instinctively, Cal pulls him to a sitting position- he’s done this before, and he knows what’s next. Frantically, he looks around, but can’t find anything to catch it in time- shit. Fuck. Shit.

A cough, wide eyes, and suddenly there’s blood pouring onto the comforter, staining the white sheets red as he coughed up half a lungful of blood. Though… Cal could be wrong, but he swore he saw a flicker of pale teal in there- mana. That was bad. 

“Okay. Hey. You’re good. Just- keep going. Nothing to worry about.” He lied, trying to be reassuring. “I just- too much of a good thing. Breathe.” He considers flashing a reassuring smile, but that seems like the opposite of helpful right now. 

The elf sputters and coughs up blood until it’s gone, and while he’s taking shaky, panting breaths, Cal is staring at the comforter, which is very ruined. This is going to be a lot to explain to his host, he thinks. 

“Hey. Uh. It’s- it’s okay. That happens. It’s all out now, right?” When he’s met with a nod, Cal exhales a breath he wasn’t even capable of holding. 

“Who are you, anyways?” He’s careful to keep his voice calm, sharp, balanced. He’s shown enough weakness. He needs to gain control of the situation. But the prolonged silence is knocking him off-balance. 

Eventually, the elf speaks. Even his voice is soft and ethereal, and he only says one word. 

“Elze’ith.” His voice sounds scratchy, like he hadn’t used it in ages, though for all Cal knew that could be the blood in his throat. “Elze’ith.” Cal repeats. Another nod from the elf- Elze’ith- and Cal returns the gesture. 

“I’m Cal. It’s nice to meet you.” Practiced politeness, from years of reading etiquette books, as well as his Lord’s tutelage when the man was in a more friendly mood. “How do you do?”

Elze’ith looks like he hadn’t felt anywhere near this good in ages. He also looked like he wasn’t quite sure where he was, what was happening, or why Cal was here. Understandable, really. From some of the things Cal had seen, some of the people he’d healed, this was a fairly good reaction to such an extreme change of bodily health. 

“I’m a guest,” Cal clarified. “Just for a little bit. Just until I can go home.” 

The silence remained, so Cal fidgeted, removing the comforter. He pulled the large quilt that sat at the foot of the bed over Elze’ith, before looking at the comforter he’d dumped on the floor. Frankly, it was unrecoverable. Even if magic was used in the washing, it’d stain. He decided to fold it up, setting it in a corner and ignoring the whole issue. 

He felt green eyes upon him as he sighed, moving back to the bedside, where he met the man’s gaze. Fidgeting again, he took it upon himself to fill the silence. If Bryn or Sh’han had been here, they’d know what to do. He kicked himself internally for abandoning them. Sure, he needed to return home, and they’d just have likely killed his host, but they would know what to do in this situation. They wouldn’t leave these long, empty silences. 

“Feeling okay?” Cal asked. Bryn would probably ask that. “I, um, saw you back there. You didn’t look happy. 

Elze’ith settled back into the plush pillows on the bed, looking skeptical. So this was how it felt. Cal was far more used to being in the other situation, near-catatonic and having to be taken care of. It just looked like this elf was a lot less stubborn than he was. He was almost thankful for it. 

“Okay.” A pause. “You… live here?” A small, tired nod was given in response. That was getting somewhere. Bryn asked people questions about their situation a lot. It seemed to help. 

“Do you like living here?” 

A sharp shake of the head, and then one of Elze’ith’s hands went up to support his head, before Cal gently pushed him down, resting the elf’s head on the pillows. He wanted to ask ‘why not’, or more details about the situation, because he hadn’t seen anything like this from his Lord- at least, not that he could remember- but they seemed to be on a yes/no question basis, so Cal simply settled himself with another question.

“You’re alive, right? Not like me?” 

The nod came slower. ‘Could you call this living?’ the elf’s eyes seemed to say, and Cal shrugged internally. He could ignore the pang of emotion in his stomach. 

“That’s good. I… my Lord doesn’t keep ones like you. I don’t know why anyone would. It just seems cruel.” Cal talks as he begins to stalk across the room, fretting over something. He wants to help, but he isn’t sure how. After a moment, he remembers something, and rushes back to get his glove again. “I’m trying to go home to him. I could… I could take you. He’s nice. He could make you like me.” More silence.

“It’s not life, but it’s freedom. Or, I…” Cal sits on the bed. If he was in this situation, he’d hate being talked to like this, he knows that for sure. But he can’t stop himself. He knows he should shut up, he should have left the moment he saw Elze’ith in the room, and yet, and yet and yet he cannot. It infuriates him. 

“I left them behind to come here. But I have friends. Friends who kill monsters. Maybe… maybe once I am returned, I could send them a letter. Tell them of you.” 

He trails off, trying to stop himself from talking. A warmth touches him, then. A hand. 

Cal knows better than anyone the hollow aches these promises leave behind. They’re impossible to fulfill, at least in his experience. But the pleasant feeling of making them, of having something sweet to believe in for a little while… he could indulge it. Pretend, for a little bit, that this was possible. That these were more than sweet lies that would dissolve into sugar water eventually. False hope was better than none at all, right? 

“I could stay here,” Cal offers, “if you’d like. On the floor, beside you.” It’s like nothing to offer- he’s used to doing it, after all. Though, there is a pang of guilt in his heart. After all, he’s only doing this because he prefers to sleep near someone, and prefers to hold a hand while he does. He chokes out his next sentence before he can stop it. 

“Hold your hand so if anything happens, I’ll be alerted.” Elze’ith pauses. 

“That would be nice.” 

Cal lights up visibly, and before he can stop it, a genuine smile spreads across his face. Elze’ith had spoken again! It made him… it made him feel proud. 

“I haven’t had anyone to cook for properly since I was taken from my Lord. Maybe I’ll make you something tomorrow. And then… we can figure something out. I promise.” When he says it, he almost believes it. 

[themerlinlibrary]

Favourites Friday (Dec 2023) – Self-Rec Round: Family Dynamics

TML Favourites Friday round-up! December 2023 round 5 (SRR)

What is Favourites Friday? – The Basics

a different theme is announced on Friday each week; FF recs must match the theme of the week

only one FF rec per person per week/theme

FF recs must be unique within that week/theme; no double-posting the same fic for one theme!

no self-recs during regular rounds

only self-recs during self-rec rounds (last Friday of each month)

Theme for this self-rec round: Family Dynamics!

Untested Fear by TheManTheMythTheLazy G, 1.4k, Arthur & Uther Canon era

Blackout, Beaming, Gold by Zaharya M, 19k, Merlin/Arthur Steampunk AU, Whump

The Great Dragon by s0mmerspr0ssen T, 71k, Merlin & Arthur Canon AU, Bromance

The Last Night (You'll Have To Be Alone) by Glon_Morski T, 127k, Merlin & Arthur Post Canon, Modern Era

fill my little world by ravenwilds G, 4,8k, Merlin/Arthur Modern AU, Parent!Merlin

And Mother Knows Best by Imagined G, 4k, Merlin/Arthur Canon era, Magic reveal

My Heart Beats the Tempo of You by thesongistheriver E, 65k, Merlin/Arthur Modern AU, musician and actor

Home is where the heart is by Brechtjeeatscheese M, 85k, Merlin/Arthur Modern AU, Werewolves

Kin and Kind and Other Blood by theaceofdragons G, 560, Gen Dragon Age

To Lose and to Love by Excited_Insomniac T, 17k, Merlin/Arthur Modern AU, Parenting

Morgana by kirani  G, 1.8k, Gen  Modern AU, trans!Morgana

Have You Come to Cure My Heart? by sleepygecko G, 991 words, Gaius & Arthur Canon

A masterlist of all round-ups can be found here (oldest to newest) or here (newest to oldest).

If you want to make sure you never miss a FF rec, or would like to participate and share your own favourites; join us on the Discord TheMerlinLibrary! Happy reading!

About the FF round-up lists:

Recs are listed in the order they were posted on the Discord; the order does not imply any sort of ranking.

The pairing given in this list is the main pairing of each respective fic – please read the tags for any possible minor or side-pairings, as well as any potential warnings or triggers.

Pairings and Eras are given as tagged in each respective fic. (?) signifies that the tags were unclear and I do not know enough about the fic to fill the gaps.

Round-ups are compiled on the weekend of the week after the respective theme of the post (when the new theme has already been anounced), to avoid omitting potentially belated FF recs.

The weekly round-up is not a guarantee! I'm running this alone, so it can only be posted for weeks when I have enough time on my hands to compile a list. If you'd like to help out, feel free to contact me on Tumblr ( @zaharya ) or Discord. Thanks to @ravenwilds for helping me out with this round-up!

[1solone]

WOMAN. . . . . . . . .

When God created woman he was working late on the 6th day.......

An angel came by and asked." Why spend so much time on her?"

The lord answered. "Have you seen all the specifications I have to meet to shape her?"

She must function on all kinds of situations,

She must be able to embrace several kids at the same time,

Have a hug that can heal anything from a bruised knee to a broken heart,

She must do all this with only two hands,"

She cures herself when sick and can work 18 hours a day"

THE ANGEL was impressed" Just two hands.....impossible!

And this is the standard model?"

The Angel came closer and touched the woman"

"But you have made her so soft, Lord".

"She is soft", said the Lord,

"But I have made her strong. You can't imagine what she can endure and overcome"

"Can she think?" The Angel asked...

The Lord answered. "Not only can she think, she can reason and negotiate"

The Angel touched her cheeks....

"Lord, it seems this creation is leaking! You have put too many burdens on her"

"She is not leaking...it is a tear" The Lord corrected the Angel…

"What's it for?" Asked the Angel..... .

The Lord said. "Tears are her way of expressing her grief, her doubts, her love, her loneliness, her suffering and her pride."...

This made a big impression on the Angel,

"Lord, you are a genius. You thought of everything.

A woman is indeed marvellous"

Lord said."Indeed she is.

She has strength that amazes a man.

She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens.

She holds happiness, love and opinions.

She smiles when she feels like screaming.

She sings when she feels like crying, cries when happy and laughs when afraid.

She fights for what she believes in.

Her love is unconditional.

Her heart is broken when a next-of-kin or a friend dies but she finds strength to get on with life"

The Angel asked: So she is a perfect being?

The lord replied: No. She has just one drawback

"She often forgets what she is worth".

[ihugmomo]

my blorbos‼️‼️‼️ pt. 3/?

Gotham :: Oswald Cobblepot (The Penguin)

☆ no you don't understand, i kin him so bad. he did nothing wrong <3

The Originals :: Elijah Mikaelson

☆ he could easily fold me in half and I'd let him, whatever you say sexy vampire man <33

The Vampire Diaries :: Katherine Pierce

☆ prettier and better than Elena in my opinion, she's THE it girl <33 she's also wifey!!

Smile Pretty Cure :: Miyuki Hoshizora (Cure Happy)

☆ she's 14 and indured so much shit and trauma, girlboss deserves a hug and a break fr. i love her <3

Star Wars :: Padme Amidala

☆ pretty womam. she didn't deserve what happened to her :( also one of my highest kins <3

BAND-MAID :: Kanami Tono

☆ pretty girl i love her sm!!!!!! <33

[renee-writer]

When God created woman he was working late on the 6th day…….

An angel came by and asked.” Why spend so much time on her”

The lord answered. “Have you seen all the specifications I have to meet to shape her”

She must function in all kinds of situations,

She must be able to embrace several kids at the same time,

Have a hug that can heal anything from a bruised knee to a broken heart,

She must do all this with only two hands,”

She cures herself when sick and can work 18 hours a day”

THE ANGEL was impressed”

Just two hands…..impossible!

And this is the standard model”

The Angel came closer and touched the woman”

“But you have made her so soft, Lord”.

“She is soft”, said the Lord,

“But I have made her strong. You can’t imagine what she can endure and overcome”

“Can she think” The Angel asked…

The Lord answered. “Not only can she think, she can reason and negotiate”

The Angel touched her cheeks….

“Lord, it seems this creation is leaking!

You have put too many burdens on her”

“She is not leaking…it is a tear” The Lord corrected the Angel…

“What’s it for?” Asked the Angel…..

The Lord said. “Tears are her way of expressing her grief, her doubts, her love, her loneliness, her suffering and her pride.”…

This made a big impression on the Angel,

“Lord, you are a genius. You thought of everything.

A woman is indeed marvellous”

Lord said.

“Indeed she is.

She has strength that amazes a man.

She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens.

She holds happiness, love and opinions.

She smiles when she feels like screaming.

She sings when she feels like crying, cries when happy and laughs when afraid.

She fights for what she believes in.

Her love is unconditional.

Her heart is broken when a next-of-kin or a friend dies but she finds strength to get on with life”

The Angel asked: So she is a perfect being..

The Lord replied: No. She has just one drawback

“She often forgets what she is worth”.!

[hosannan]

She had thanked him, once, and he'd not any idea of who she was. It had been strange, that dissonant sensation of meaning more to someone than they did to you, to exist peripherally as a character in a fairy tale, rather than the flesh and blood man.

But as she arrived into the hall, following her uncle, her mother, trailing along the rest of her family, Sigurd understood that that sensation was merely temporary – they were disconnected by time and circumstance, but they were family, all the same.

"Young Nanna! It is Nanna, is it not? Princess?" He winked at her, and stooped to pull her into a warm embrace. His eyes creased, glittering as he pulled back to look at her fully. "Please, be most welcome, you are kin – not just as Jugdrali, but of the heart. We will get to know one another in time. Here, first - !"

He scooped from a table containing goodie bags, and placed one into her hands. The bag is of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings. If she were tempted to peek inside, they would find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within.

"Enjoy the party. Please, come to me with anything you need."

"Lord Sigurd! Yes, I--" Her gasp could have rattled half the porcelain bowls on the table, as she rose a dainty hand over her mouth. She was caught off guard with the address, wondering if he was teasing her. Giving her a moment to catch herself, Nanna gave a hearty laugh, like that of budding roses. "Young Nanna, Princess Nanna, or Just Nanna, at your service, my lord."

She fanned out her skirt in a curtsy, the laughter never leaving her eyes. "Truly? It's an honor to be in your company, let alone in your heart, sire. Hahaha!"

"Oh!" The velvet drawstring bag rested sweetly in her palms, running warmth up to her chest. Oh, how she loved this time of year. Her gaze softened, as she clasped it loosely against her heart. "Thank you..."

"And this is for you—" She felt a little shy, fingers gently clasping at a small, handwritten letter in her rucksack. She toyed with it for a moment, twiddling its corners to will herself to hand it to him. Had it been folded? Was her handwriting legible? Her wax seal marked the back with a gold 'N' inscribed in flowers. Paired with it was a sea blue package with a pocket watch inside, of the same rich color.

She beamed.

"May the holidays bring you only warmth and laughter, Lord Sigurd."

In lovely, blooming cursive was the following:

Happy Holidays, Lord Sigurd! The snow leads me down sunken roads, where many merchants in deep green smocks wrap their stalls in cured hide and glass baubles. The colored glass seems to frost over in the cold, and I think it's a sign for the year to meet its natural end. I think resting on the precipice between the end and the beginning is beautiful. It really calls to mind how far we've managed to come, and how far it takes for anyone to truly live their life to the fullest. I hope this letter doesn't take you aback; it's abrupt, yes, but I think there's something magical about writing that allows you to open a window into your heart. And once you look into that window, you'll realize that this is all entirely new to me. Lord Leif and I celebrated the holidays in Fiana, but living on humbler means meant a holiday of the same caliber. I've heard of stories from my father, of the grand holidays held in castles, and the long, sweeping tables filled with gifts and food galore. I've heard of the candles and ivy-lined walls, of the tinsel and velvet. And I've heard about you, of course. But there's nothing like experiencing it for yourself. I suppose it's nothing like living history. It's living life. And I've got you to thank for that. With great regard, Princess Nanna of Nordion

[eldritch-spouse]

So we know what's like if Krulu loves you, but what about Saudramar?

How would the Protector be like if he fell in love with you?

TW: Consent not specified.

Saudramar was a vastly different person from Krulu in some aspects, and though his tendency to have a stern look prevails for example, his demeanor was much softer when regarding others.

Given the cultural context of the time, falling in love with a lesser would be heretical. Corruption of values was already rampant in casts above his own, as human pets and lovers were kept almost openly, but for protectors and those below, getting found eloping with a lesser would warrant brutal punishment. So it truly does crush Saudramar to realize he's only got eyes for humans.

As a lover, Saudramar is subtle for the most part. He masks his love behind acts that can be interpret as generally helpful. Be it through helping you rebuild broken things, curing ailments, helping you with some chores and having long conversations. His touches are fleeting, chaste, but meaningful. You can see an odd longing in his eyes sometimes as he listens to you talk. A sadness. Desire he thinks he'll never get to fulfill. Saudramar always conveniently finds excuses to work near your living space, to descend from Eden and spend time with you. Though, for the longest time, it'll remain a superficial, gentle friendship. And an almost stalkerish degree of surveillance from his part.

The protector can't sleep unless he knows you're safe. He puts wards around your house and he gives you tiny bracelets made from endlessly valuable minerals just so he can know where you are at all times. Though honestly, he just enjoys giving you gifts, seeing that bright smile that mirrors his own whenever he gets to spend time alone with you. He says you're his favorite creation to ever walk the Earth. But he doesn't have the guts to say he craves you for himself. Because he knows that would be putting the two of you in great peril.

Everyone knows what usually happens when one tries to bottle strong feelings however. Sooner or later, the cap pops off and it all flies out.

It happens suddenly. One moment you're gathering sea shells on a beach with him, the next, you're somewhere entirely new to you. Secluded, remote, a place Saudramar made sure was scarcely visited by his kin.

He had planned to just confess to you, in a tender manner.

But being isolated with the object of his obsession has the siadar getting far too excited, and amidst his jarring proclamations of near violently intense adoration, those six arms grasp onto you like a spider spinning its web over easy prey. You're fondled and groped and forcibly undressed by the protector, who's almost delirious with the satisfaction of finally having you. His garbs are pushed aside and you're made to touch him while Saudramar promises that he'll keep you forever, safe and pleasured and so very happy. His lesser, his sweet songbird, his precious lamb. Used for hours upon hours by him.

You leave that encounter without a scratch, but you'll never quite be the same.

[a-dragons-journal]

for my kins a lot of times I go ''??? is that me? maybe that's me does it feel like me?? I should try figure that out'' but a lot of times it feels like I go too fast and even if I am so comfortable and happy with my own identity I am scared I am faking it or got it wrong I mean I know its okay to get stuff wrong and nobody will judge me for that but for some reason I still get scared of that happening for some reason--

Deep breaths, dear.

This is an extremely normal thing to be anxious about and unfortunately there is no cure for it but time and patiently telling yourself it's okay if you got it wrong over and over and over again until your brain starts to believe it. Your logic is correct, your brain is just being mean to you. Questioning is a different process for everyone and every kintype; many of us need a lot of time to think it over, but sometimes you just don't.

If it helps to think it through: employ the question "what are the best, worst, and most likely outcomes of this hypothetical?". If you are wrong, what's the best outcome? What's the worst? What's the most likely thing to actually happen? It can help to work through it in your head, especially since in many cases - this one included - the worst possible (realistic) outcome really isn't even that bad.

[blueeyescleo]

When God created the woman, he was working late on the 6th day....... An angel came by and asked." Why spend so much time on her?" The lord answered. "Have you seen all the specifications I have to meet to shape her?" She must function on all kinds of situations, She must be able to embrace several kids at the same time, Have a hug that can heal anything from a bruised knee to a broken heart, She must do all this with only two hands,"She cures herself when sick and can work 18 hours a day" THE ANGEL was impressed "Just two hands.....impossible! And this is the standard model?" The Angel came closer and touched the woman."But you have made her so soft, Lord. " "She is soft," said the Lord, "but I have made her strong. You can't imagine what she can endure and overcome." "Can she think?" The Angel asked... The Lord answered. "Not only can she think, she can reason and negotiate." The Angel touched her cheeks.... "Lord, it seems this creation is leaking! You have put too many burdens on her. " "She is not leaking...it is a tear. " The Lord corrected the Angel… "What's it for?" Asked the Angel..... . The Lord said. "Tears are her way of expressing her grief, her doubts, her love, her loneliness, her suffering, and her pride."... This made a big impression on the angel, "Lord, you are a genius. You thought of everything. A woman is indeed marvelous, " Lord said."Indeed she is. She has strength that amazes a man. She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens. She holds happiness, love, and opinions. She smiles when she feels like screaming. She sings when she feels like crying, cries when happy, and laughs when afraid. She fights for what she believes in. Her love is unconditional. Her heart is broken when a next-of-kin or a friend dies, but she finds strength to get on with life. " The Angel asked: "So she is a perfect being?" The lord replied: "No. She has just one drawback. She often forgets what she is worth."

~Unknown Author

[fucklife-or-me]

I just broke down while showering. I'll post it here bc I can't scream it to the world.

I don't think I'll ever be able to say-to admit- face to face how much I want to be loved by people who I do not share blood with.

How bad I carve an embrace that will hold me when my bones ache, and will whisper soothing words when my spine breaks by the events of the day. I cannot put into words how much I crave inner jokes, funny looks or gentle words. How my soul aches to be the first option just once. I pretend to not care, but even I can't deny my longing looks when I see a happy friend group chatting amongst themselves, can't deny the sadness and the envy that crawl out making me look away. I want to be on the arms of people other than my kin. I want to be a receiver of the meaningful looks and be the one that understands inner jokes. I want to know what is like to be care about. To have people who will genuinely fight for you, no questions asked. I want to be seen. And I can't help but feel selfish,feel like I'm making myself the victim.

I try and try and try to establish friendships but I can't. In the end I can't. Because it has been so long since I've had a proper one I don't know who to nurture them anymore. Even when I try and even when I'm laughing with them I feel it. In the back of my head, whispers echoing repeating the same thing

It won't last

It won't last

It won't last

Then they became cruel,

They don't like you

Your just a replacement

They will tose u aside, forget u when their finished

And how could I compete with the truth? History repeats itself after all.

How can I want people to like me when I don't even like myself. I don't feel good in my skin in my mind. Perhaps that was the problem, my thoughts, my unsaid words, the words that I did said, what my eyes would say.

Perhaps I am just not suitable for human relations but oh how deeply do I crave to be. Looking for that warmth on words and paragraphs, on books and poems, on scraps.Oh but I don't think they are enough to cure the ache in my soul anymore, perhaps they never were.