#songstress of feathers

[doveriathegoddess]

*RINGS THE DINNER BELL FOR THE BALAN FAM*

[tempo-tales]

"Tales: Past, Present and Future in WonderWorld🎭⌛️🎞️"

I recently remembered that this month marks two years since I made this AU with my Oc Tempo and it ended up being an extensive story and I created more Ocs, more humans because I still feel that I lack the talent to draw the Costumes and NegaBoss.

Also, as an honorable mention, I asked the BWW fandom to add their OCs as a cameo (very beautiful all of them!) and, sorry to those who didn't make it, I really wanted to add them but it wasn't possible.

And, I want to thank you for following my works! Let's see where your Oc appears! I recommend that you see the image in high resolution

[dragonskxn]

Friendly reminder that Annalise has a sweet singing voice

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Wild Nights || CL16 {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x songstress!reader Summary: You show your support for Charles and he shows his support for you. Warnings: 18+only, just Charles being himself WC: 2k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Epilogue

“Hurry up or you’re going to be late to your own show,” Bea urged as she tugged at your arm. “Come on, we have to go!”

You rose on your tiptoes and tried to look over the sea of people. “Just one more minute.”

“I gave you ten.”

You checked your phone again but there was no new message from Charles since his last update that he was just going to quickly shower. You had briefly seen him before the free practice, but other than a few quiet words in the back of Ferrari’s hospitality you hadn’t really spent any time with him since landing in Las Vegas. 

You had thought scheduling concerts in the same city would mean seeing more of Charles but nothing was ever quite that simple.

Sighing, you sent him a message apologising for leaving without a proper goodbye and reminded him not to wait up for you. It would be late by the time you finished the show and he needed an early night before his qualifying race, but hopefully you were able to find a few minutes together in the morning before he left.

The drive through the city was long with traffic congestion and you spent most of it checking your phone to the point that Bea leaned over and ripped it from your hands.

“Hey!” you growled as she tossed it into the front seat beside the chauffeur. “I was using that.”

“No, you were distracted by it.” She grabbed a bottle of champagne from the minifridge and popped the cork. “Here, bottoms up.”

“Classy,” you murmured as you took the bottle and drank straight from it.

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and took it back for a quick swig of her own. “At least I know it will get you to relax. Luckily your makeup has survived the day, there won’t be time to redo it.”

“There was a time when you said I didn’t need make up, is this you saying I’m getting ugly?”

“Pfft, bitch, please. If I thought you were ugly I would tell it to you straight, like a good friend. You’re beautiful and I’m jealous, I just thank god I have these,” she said as she grabbed her boobs for emphasis. “They kill my back, but they look damn good.”

“Forget your back, I heard they nearly killed Pierre,” you chuckled. “I think his fans would have a problem if you accidentally smothered him with those.”

“At least he would die happy and doing what he loved. Imagine that obituary.”

“I’d rather not.” Your nose wrinkled at the thought of any type of obituary for a racer, it was an all too real possibility you tried not to dwell on.

Bea agreed quietly with another drink from the bottle and cast her eyes out the window, taking in the bright lights of the strip. She nearly spit out her mouthful at the sight of an electronic billboard advertising the first Las Vegas F1 race. “Wow, they really got him again?”

You leaned over the seat and saw the ad of Charles decked out in a glittering jacket, elvis wig and pink feather boa as a deck of cards rained down. A laugh bubbled up as you took the bottle back and brought it up to your lips with a dopey smile. “He’s too sweet and trusting, a little gullible too.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she joked as the car pulled into the service entrance of the MGM. and she took the half empty bottle away. “Can’t have you drunk on opening night.”

“Can I have my phone back?”

She reached through the front and grabbed it off the seat. “Fine, but no moping like a sad sap because we have to run.”

The door to the car opened to an entourage of people chiding you for the tardiness and you were hustled through the back channels of the building, stopping briefly in a room little larger than a closet to change outfits before you reached the backstage area.

“You have five minutes,” the head coordinator warned as Bea arrived with a cup of lemon, ginger and honey tea to help warm your vocal chords.

You thanked her as you sipped the hot drink and felt your phone vibrate with a notification as Scuderia Ferrari’s Instagram went live. ‘Music Challenge’ was the caption and you waved Bea over knowing they were always entertaining.

“Oh, I love this song,” Charles exclaimed as he nodded his head along.

“You say that every time,” Carlos complained.

“Kill Bill?”

“Correct!” The interviewer confirmed as Carlos groaned and fell back into the couch in defeat.

“How do you know that?”

“I listen to a lot of music.”

They both fell silent as the next song started and they both smashed their hands on their little bells.

“Flowers,” Carlos shouted. “Flowers, flowers, I got it first.”

“You got it loudest,” Charles disputed but the moment the next song started he was jumping up and pinging his bell in time. “Y/N, Love You Need!” He turned to Carlos and blew him a kiss. “It’s my song.”

“That’s not fair, I don’t have a song.”

“I’m sure someone has written a song about you, probably not a love song though,” Charles teased before he checked his watch. “Ay, I need to go or the next song she writes about me won’t be happy either. Ciao!”

“He quit so I win, right?”

“No, no, no I didn’t quit.” Charles paused his exit to point an accusing finger back at his teammate. “You took so long fixing your hair that we started late.”

“Still, I win, because you’re leaving.”

“See this,” Charles turned to the camera, his hand still waving to his team mate, “he doesn’t care about winning, he’s just upset he wasn’t invited to Y/N’s concert. Carlos?”

Carlos batted his eyelashes with a smile. “Yes, Charles?”

“Would you like to come with me?”

Carlos was already on his feet. “I thought you would never ask.”

Charles rolled his eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Vamos, we’re late.”

You turned to Bea as the live feed ended and you shoved your phone into the storage cupboard beside the stairs leading to the stage. “Did you know he was coming?”

“Duh, who do you think set him up with a backstage pass?” She shrugged and put her own phone away along with her jacket. “I gave him a few in case he wanted to bring some friends.”

You cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “You mean Pierre…”

“I mean friends, and if that happens to be Pierre then I have no problem with that.”

You didn’t have an opportunity to tease her further about the commitment issues the two of them had before a microphone was shoved into your hands and you were pointed to the stage entrance.

“Kill it babe!” Bae shouted with a thumbs up as she jogged around to the other stage entrance for her cue.

The sold out crowd was a swirling mass of energy and it swelled as you stepped into the spotlight, their screams barely blocked by the earpieces that you had pushed into your ears as you took the stairs. The rush of seeing the excitement on their faces never ceased to amaze you and you bounced on your toes eagerly.

“What’s up, Las Vegas? Are you doing alright tonight?” Their responding screams shook the stage and widened your grin. “That’s good to hear, because, for me, well, I’m Fine.”

The music started and remembered the day you started writing the song, taking off from Monaco. It had begun as a tribute to Bea and the friendship you shared but then as the weeks went by and Charles stayed in touch it had evolved. It really was a song for any sort of relationship and why it was one of your favourites after Love You Need.

“Woke up too early, Almost put salt in my coffee, Oh, I thank God that you stopped me before that.”

You grinned to the shadows where you knew Bea was waiting, having been the inspiration for the line.

“Tripped over something, Spilt it all over your front seat, Didn't even say I'm sorry about that.”

You had been so frazzled trying to clean the mess up in Charles’ ridiculously expensive car that you had forgotten to apologise at the time. You had made it up to him later, and luckily it hadn’t stained, probably credit to the expensive upholstery.

“On and on, it's just more of the same And even when you ask if I'm okay… I try to say I'm fine (I'm fine).”

The drummer came in with the heavy beat for the chorus and the hands in the crowd waved in time as Bea jumped into the spotlight for her parts. This was what made it a favourite of yours, when she grasped your hand like she had when you had broken down over your ex. She had called you on your bullshit when you said you were fine and she had been there through the worst. It made performing this with her even more special. 

The entire concert was going to be even more special knowing Charles was going to be in the crowd soon and he knew exactly which songs were devoted to him. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was coming because he balanced you, and everything was equal between you. You supported him in his races whenever you could make it to them and he supported you when he could make it to yours, but you knew how tired he would have been after his day. 

There were thousands of people beyond the blindly bright lights of the stage but somehow you knew where to look when you felt the energy shift halfway into the set. And there he was. 

He must have changed in the car as he was no longer wearing the bold red Ferrari shirt, opting for more sedate casual clothes to blend in with the crowd. It didn’t exactly stay that way when you pointed to him during one of his songs, singing the lines solely for him and drawing the attention to him.

“Can we stay frozen in time, in between hello and goodbye?”

You collapsed onto the bed of the hotel still riding the high from the concert and Charles fell down with you, equal parts of happiness and exhaustion warring in his eyes.

“You should get some sleep,” you said as you rolled onto your side to face him so you could cup his cheek, your thumb brushing over the 5 o’clock shadow along his jaw. 

“I will soon,” he murmured as his arm curled over your waist and pulled you closer. “I just want to hold you for a little while.” He tucked you into the curve of his body until there wasn’t any space left between you, his cheek resting atop your head. “You make me so proud, seeing you living your dream. I wish I could be at every concert.”

“Me too,” you sighed longingly. “It’s the hardest thing when we have to say goodbye.”

His chest rose and fell slowly as he relaxed in the embrace, bordering on the edge of sleep. “You’ve never asked me not to race.”

“Why would I do that?” You pulled back to see his face and recognised the look. It was something his ex had asked of him. “Would the moon ask the sun not to rise? No, because both are equally important and their paths still cross. We are the sun and the moon.”

You felt his smile as he kissed your forehead. “Am I the moon or the sun?” 

“The moon,” you stated as you tipped your head back so you could stare into those gorgeous eyes if his. “You are there to lighten my darkest nights.”

“And you make my day infinitely brighter.”

Click here for the epilogue.

Tagging: @91vhs @alwaysclassyeagle @applespiez @ravenqueen27 @booksobsess @tempo-rary-fix @baw-sixteen @im-an-overthinker @notleclerc

[mosticonicbirdcallbracket]

MOST ICONIC BIRD CALL BRACKET: ROUND 3: WOOD THRUSH vs. KOOKABURRA

IN THE BLUE CORNER, prepare yourselves for a mesmerizing encounter with nature's symphony. let's give a harmonious ovation to the enchanting songstress, the WOOD THRUSH!

wth feathers adorned in earthy hues and a voice that rivals the sweetest symphonies, this avian virtuoso is a mesmerizing sight to behold. the wood thrush is capable of singing two notes at the same time, harmonizing with itself with every song. but don't underestimate the wood thrush's gentle demeanor, for beneath its delicate exterior lies a spirit of resilience and determination.

prepare to be serenaded as we witness the harmonious fusion of athleticism and beauty in the wood thrush. tonight, this avian maestro will take flight, captivating us all with its breathtaking grace and melodic prowess.

IN THE RED CORNER, get ready for a wild ride of laughter and excitement! coming in from the land down under, brace yourselves for the uproarious and electrifying presence of the KOOKABURRA!

with a beak that carries the promise of echoing laughter and feathers that shimmer with a bronze palette, this avian jester is a true master of entertainment. known for its infectious chuckles and mischievous charisma, the kookaburra embodies pure joy and exhilaration. this comical daredevil thrives in the spotlight, reminding everyone that laughter is indeed the best medicine. that famous laugh is recognizable from the foley work in almost any scene that takes place in the jungle, whether it's the kookaburra's native australia or not.

so, get ready to giggle and cheer as we witness the uproarious antics and high-flying stunts of the kookaburra. tonight, this feathered comedian will take center stage, bringing laughter and excitement to new heights. prepare for a whirlwind of hilarity and unparalleled entertainment, as the kookaburra spreads its wings and delivers a show that will leave you in stitches!

[seafoamme]

A Poem, A Friend Shep-en-Mut "The painted wooden face was known to me. She stood in the dusty museum sun, Painted eyes lengthened with kohl. Azure, terra-cotta, white, Emblazoned cartonnage. The Isis wings, spread in care and love. Curving protective Neckbet and Nepthys. Beneath, the corticated skin, Black bitumen. Eyeless, cracked and black, Dessicated viscera, wrapped apart. Leaving child and husband, moving through satin bands of shadow, Singing in the ecstatic sun. Feet hissing through the silken sand She carried the Milk Jar and a Palm frond, Worshipping and serving each day. This lady was the songstress of Amun-Re, Her songs curved upward in the great Temple of Thebes. The stone beauty of the face of the God above her frailty Gave her voice a scope of praise denied to our dessicated senses When death stooped on her, claws and beak ripped. Then feathers lay outstretched in love. Horus wings, Night Heron beak, Having slain, now standing guard in fearful phalanx. Leaving the echo between the roof trees. Her flesh must be pickled, cured with cinnamon and myrrh. The skull, frail as a blown egg, Emptied of its convolute majesty, Stuffed with delicate resinous rags. When the sucking natron has had its meal Her shell will taste the shriving sun and wind once more. Blow gently, shine kindly down, Amun-Re, on thy slave. She shall be wrapped in fine linen Layer on layer, and laced like a shoe. The last we shall see in linen and plaster and paint. May her journey be safe through the dark tunnels May her soul sing in light before her God, In soft peace. The holding wings enfold my friend. Priestess of Thebes. Singer of Amun-Re Bearer of the little Milk Jar." - Elizabeth Sigmund

[lamaisongaga]

INSTAGRAM CHIC: UPCOMING TALLER MARMO

Lady Gaga only has five Jazz & Piano shows left until the new era starts! Here's what the songstress wore in her latest Instagram story from backstage.

No wonder this one took me a while longer to find! I had to dig until I stumbled across this similar dress by Taller Marmo.

After a little chat with the brand, it turned out that LG is the first to wear a piece from their yet-to-be-released (and photographed) collection!

Our girl rocks their Casta Diva Disco feather-trimmed mock neck caftan but made from the sequined fabric of their Fonda Pepe dress.

Bespoke crystal eye patches by Face Lace completed the look.

[hresvelged]

"oh, edie! aren't you a vision!" their leader looks every inch a princess in that stunning ballgown of hers — a crimson-colored masterpiece exuding indisputable regality, adorned with all those glittering embellishments...goodness. it really does suits someone as illustrious as her edelgard.

dorothea lets out a happy hum as she loops her arm through the other's, stifling a pleased giggle behind a gloved hand. "we almost match, you and i! and to think it happened without us even trying. i wonder what that says about our friendship?"

in her free hand, something jingles delicately. the songstress's fingers unfurl to reveal a small bell, which she now offers to the princess with a radiant smile. "will you accept?"

It is the reds of Dorothea's dress— the jewelry and drawing display— that are sure to sparkle amidst the twinkling chandelier encasing the room in its glow. A semblance of merriment grows to sit comfortably onto the Adrestian heir. The two complement each other well, garnering an airy laugh from pink lips as the words leave freely.

"That we do. It goes to show that the bonds between you and I are unbreakable." As their arms intertwine, she keeps herself poised while her facing shifts ever-so upwards: "Were it not for you finding me first, no doubt would I have said the very same." Spoken differently, perhaps.

Wordlessly, Edelgard casts her fingers towards the airiness of her black feather and places it in the palm of her friend. Light in weight, heavy in feeling. The eagle's wings soar in the most unexpected of moments.

"I would never decline."

[llostwriter]

The Misery of the Songstress’ Child | 2ha Fanfic

TW: Dark-Themed, Child Abuse, and Rape Accusations

Nonbinary Reader

Chapter 2

There was still no sight of your mother, Xun Fengruo, even after two weeks. You asked Mo Ran about what happened in the room; however, he wouldn’t tell you, always appearing to be avoiding the topic. You didn’t force him to tell you. Mother Mo (Madam Mo) coldly replied, “That whore ran off. She no longer wants you.” You were unsure about the meaning of ‘whore,’ other than the fact that it was often thrown around in the music building multiple times by the customer regarding your big sisters. The last sentence was simple and understandable; it didn’t give you a good feeling at all.

The doubts around it began increasing. Did your mother truly abandon you? Her child?

You asked your big sisters about the whereabouts of your mother. There were some who told you that your mother was taking a long vacation from the workload, and there were some who used the excuse of having customers to avoid answering the question. This didn’t help the growing doubt around it. You could only pray that those words from your big sisters are true. And that your mother would come back soon to fulfill her promise of improving both you and A-Ran’s lifestyle.

It has been years since you last saw her. But you never give up hope.

Currently, you’re 14 years old. You are two years older than Mo Ran, making him currently 12 years old, and Master Mo Nian is a couple of months younger than you.

—-

One day, a man with a fair complexion and soft, delicate facial features in a black robe with gold and silver accents and rounded collars that were trimmed in white fur entered the House of Drunken Jade. In his hand was his folding fan. He had a smile on his face, and he asked for the housekeeper. The housekeeper is none other than Madam Mo. She is both the housekeeper and the owner. The last housekeeper ended up quitting out of frustration when Madam Mo wouldn’t raise their paychecks. However, it was also rumored that the housekeeper had been stealing stuff from the music building and was caught by Madam Mo.

Currently, there wasn’t someone to fill in the position, so Madam Mo had no choice but to be both the housekeeper and the boss. Madam Mo lifted the beaded curtain and greeted the man with her usual charming smile.

When the man told her that he wasn't there to listen to music, Madam Mo’s tone turned cold. Oftentimes, when men came into the music building and suggested that they weren't there to listen to music or for pleasure, it was for trouble. There were times when the guests would smash the window of the music building out of anger, like that one time when Madam Mo rejected them from entering due to their lack of tales. Or sometimes they even boldly entered the building to smash the furniture to vent out their anger for unknown reasons.

Replacing the furniture and the windows isn't cheap at all. There were times when Madam Mo even had to chase the troublemaker out with a feather duster. The man’s outfit doesn’t seem to be that of a troublemaker, but Madam Mo was old enough to know that looks could be deceiving. Especially when she has already experienced the betrayal of her lover.

But her face completely changed when the stranger restated the lines from one of the poems that only she and her beloved would know. It has been years since Madam Mo heard from Xue Duanrong, and for this random stranger to know exactly what was written in those letters was a total shocker.

Her reaction confirmed the man’s theory; as the smile grew on the man’s face, it was almost unsettling, to say the least.

The woman completely lost her footing, falling on the paulownia wood round stool, before dismissing everyone nearby. There were still a few people upstairs that didn’t hear the commotion downstairs, including you and Mo Ran. During this time, you were assisting Mo Ran with the huge pile of clothing in Master Mo Nian’s room.

There was a huge difference between the clothes that both of you were carrying and the clothes of Master Mo Nian. It was quite obvious to the eyes of strangers who were the servants and the master. Make sure to not drop the load, because both you and Mo Ran were afraid to get beaten. Ever since your mother, Xun Fengruo, left, Mother Mo has been treating both you and Mo Ran worse.

Nowadays, even for the smallest mistakes, she would lash out with her words and hands. Your big sisters pity both of you; however, since none of them was the top courtesan, there was nothing that they could say against Mother Mo. At least, not without losing their only income. Even though Mother Mo might seem harsh at times, she was willing to take those songstresses and prostitutes who have nowhere to go to work at the House of the Drunken Jade.

The door was pushed open by Mother Mo, followed by a male stranger.

The man questioned Mother Mo, “You gave birth to two children?” From his reports, he was only told that Madam Mo has only one son. But who knows? Maybe during those fourteen years, she also had another one with a new lover or something. The man was also bewildered when he saw the two kids doing the servant's work.

Madam Mo corrected the man, “I only gave birth to one. Neither of them is him. They are only the servants who keep the fire in my building.” With that, she asked both you and Mo Ran about the whereabouts of Mo Nian. Neither you nor Mo Ran know about the whereabouts of Master Mo Nian. The stares of the two adults on your little bodies were like a bomb ticking.

It was understandable that Mo Ran would hesitate to answer, shrinking back at the voice of Madam Mo, like a kicked little puppy. Without your mother’s protection, both you and Mo Ran have been treated worse than the newly appointed servants. Being the older one, you felt more obliged to be the one to answer, even despite the feeling of fear from getting hits sitting at the back of your throat. “Young Master Nian went out to play with his friends.” You quietly gaze up at Madam Mo, almost as if expecting her to hit you for the long-waiting response. Or for the fact that you made Young Master Nian’s reputation look bad by making him not seem like a serious and sensible child.

Fortunately, she didn't, but it was only because the man was still present with them. The man ended up bidding his goodbyes upon knowing that Mo Nian wasn’t there.

Even despite knowing that it was unavoidable, it was only natural for her to find someone to vent her frustration at, but the first thing was to find Mo Nian. She made it quite obvious to both you and Mo Nian that she wasn’t happy with the replies at all through her hatred-filled glares. No matter what replies she got, she would never be happy. She ordered Mo Ran and you to find Master Nian quickly.

That evening, both you and Mo Ran went on separate ways to anxiously look for Master Nian. There were still no signs of him, anywhere. You know that if you don’t find him, you’ll receive another beating. You'd rather get a scolding from Master Nian than a beating from Mother Mo, so you continue on searching. You ended up having to purchase a cheap lantern from the stall that was about to close, using some silver taels that your big sisters sneakily gave to you, since the sun was coming down. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to purchase the lantern.

After asking around for quite a while, to the point that it was almost midnight, you finally got some news. However, it was not the news that you were expecting. In fact, you do not even believe it at all. There's no possible way that Mo Ran would have done that, especially when you know that he’s also afraid of getting beaten. He wouldn’t dare to disobey or break any rules. The time also doesn’t match. There must have been some misunderstanding behind this.

But he was found covered with the blood and mucus of the raped victim.

Your body was tired from all the running, and your mind felt like it was going haywire from all this new information. Regardless, you still have to go to the mill because that’s where Mo Ran was locked for the time being. When you arrived, you could still hear Mo Ran’s voice: “It wasn’t me... It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it.” His voice has already gotten weaker from the extended number of attempts to show his innocence. It was weak, but you could still hear it.

Upon hearing him, all the doubts in your mind dissipate. “It’s me; don’t worry,” you comforted him behind the locked door. He called out your name; his voice seemed hoarse, as if he desperately needed some water to smooth his throat from all that accusation. “I didn’t do it, but nobody believes me,” he told you as he pressed deeper into the locked door, wanting some comfort in your arm at this time.

“I believed you, A-Ran.” Those phrases put some reassurance in Mo Ran’s heart. It felt good to know that at least there was one person in the entire world who believed him. Even if it was a lie, it was a good lie. A good lie warms Mo Ran’s heart and brings a small smile to his face. If only things could have been better, it wouldn’t have been like this.

“You should head back now; Mother Mo would whip you if she realized that you still aren’t home.” Mo Ran didn’t want to get you in trouble, so even though his heart feels like it's tearing apart at the thought that he’s going to be all alone with a dead woman’s corpse and the fact that he’s going to have to face his penalty tomorrow, he has to let you go. You wanted to stay as well, but you know that you’re going to be no help at all; instead, you might even bring more trouble to both you and Mo Ran if you were to stay. So you ended up leaving.

As expected, you ended up getting whipped by Mother Mo.

“You visited that dog rascal, didn’t you? Is that why it took so long for you to come back?”

You were forbidden to visit A-Ran.

——

[clumsycryo]

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐎𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥

The elusive songstress hasn’t been to something akin to a ball in ages. Her last dance that was exposed to many eyes was her performance at the Opera house. Similar to that night, she adorned her the same outfit that so carefully concealed her identity. Delicate, violet fabrics drape along the curvature of her hips, dancing around her legs as she walked, similar to a jellyfish. The darker purples and blues help are contrasted by golden jewelry and ascents that gleam in the ball’s light.

For those who didn’t recognize her from the start would be further thrown off by the thin covering that veiled her face behind a sheen of darkness. The only recognizable trait of herself were the long, curtain of blue hair that flowed freely. As assigned, the 𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥 𝘾𝙧𝙮𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡 pendant presented itself proudly upon her chest.

Considering Azura’s rather reclusive nature, it was a bold step of faith to attend the ball at all. Finally entering, the atmosphere instantly washed away any sort of regret that social anxiety might’ve whispered during her walk there. The orchestra’s melody was enthralling, easily drowning out such thoughts with a sweet melody. Many dancers had already taken to the floor, pairings coming together as one, their movements matching or complimenting one another beautifully. A faint smile crossed her concealed lips. Perhaps this would be an edifying venture yet.

Brooch Tracker:

Decorations

Black Feather:

White Feather:

String of Pearls:

Small Bell:

Teardrop Crystal:

Art credits: https://www.deviantart.com/kohiu/art/fire-emblem-hitori-omou-768270362

[wingspiked]

@yuexian sent a message . . . lonely were those who stood at the top — seemingly untouchable, but all it took was time. time and patience to await a crack to slither into. not like a snake, as that implied malicious intent. gāo yīng was rumored to "lack" negative emotions, but certain people knew that was a complete lie. even he — a genius society member with a penchant for cultivating tea leaves, possessed a kaleidoscope of feelings. it was one of the few things they could not take away from him. there he was in an instant — jade green eyes narrowed in concern, before lips found the halovian's forehead. he would also plant one along his jawline if permitted, then took a step back and return to his work. gāo yīng was a human soul in a puppet body — that much was already known. he cannot blush, yet the electrical current coursing through his body rushed to his cheeks, and he wondered if every little action such as this will make him feel this way.

ㅤㅤㅤ𝐢𝐭   𝐰𝐚𝐬   𝐢𝐧   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐧'𝐬   𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭   𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭   to   maintain   an   icy   heart   -   to   allow   smiles   of   only   politeness   or   platitudes   to   grace   his   darling   features.   a   position   of   such   power   -   such   prestige,   with   the   watchmaker's   legacy   at   stake...   cracks   were   not   permitted   in   the   marble   facade   that   constructed   sunday,   breaches   of   his   true   nature   were   not   allowed.   for   all   the   world   knew   -   the   halovian   kept   his   distance   from   all   except   his   sweet   sister   -   robin,   the   lovely   songstress,   the   light   that   cast   his   shadow,   and   now   she   was-

ㅤㅤㅤthat's   when   the   cracks   started   showing.

ㅤㅤㅤbut   no   one   knew.   no   one   knew   right?   gāo   yīng   didn't   know   -   did   he?   no   one   could   know,   no   one   could   know   -

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthere   it   was.   the   crack.   

ㅤㅤㅤit   spreads   through   his   veins   -   one   little   splinter   at   a   time.   to   most   -   it   was   imperceptible;   sunday   was   the   same   as   always   -   but   to   the   intelligent,   one   of   the   rare   few   that   knew   him   (   robin   had   known   him   -   robin   had   known   him   best,   and   he   could   be   so   cruel,   he   could   -   ),   his   pain   was   there.   any   other   time   -   perhaps   he   would   have   fended   off   the   genius'   tender   touch   -   but   not   today.   he   doesn't   even   detect   it   -   doesn't   even   realize   until   green   eyes   fill   his   vision,   and   cool   lips   meet   his   forehead.   

ㅤㅤㅤsurprise   dances   across   his   beautiful   features,   the   wings   at   his   head   splaying   wide   in   wonder.   he   looks   up   at   gāo   yīng   with   aureate   so   divine   -   so   curious   -   his   lips   part   to   say   something,   and   then   those   plush   tiers   are   back,   warming   his   jawline   and   sunday   sucks   in   a   breath,   short   and   sharp.   his   wings   betray   him   -   as   they   are   wont   to   do   -   fluttering   excitedly   at   the   side   of   his   head   before   one   folds   forward   -   downy   feathers   stroking   along   the   puppet's   cheek   as   he   moves   to   pull   away.   it's   almost   as   if   the   wing   pleads   him:   come   back,   we   want   more,   but   sunday   makes   no   such   advances.   instead,   he   inhales   -   and   exhales...   and   as   pink   rises   over   his   pallor,   those   same   wings   fold   inwards,   shyly   covering   the   majority   of   his   face   below   his   eyes   as   he   speaks   again.   the   halovian's   gaze   is   averted   -   but   his   words   are   true,   shyness   mitigated   by   candor   of   his   tone.   

ㅤㅤㅤ❝   again?   ❞   is   his   request,   because   the   crack   has   stopped   spreading.

[doveriathegoddess]

HAPPY BALANNIVERSARY!!! It’s finally the 26th in my time zone so I present to you my piece :D

Surprise surprise it’s my oc x canon ship of Songstress and Eis and they’re happily married on this special day. Usagi is very happy that she has a dad now-

I hope you guys enjoy!

[recurringwriter]

when not wearing his silly white gloves, what texture do you think rodrigue would like to run his hands through best? fur? silk? velvet? feathers?

ooooo he very much strikes me as a velvet kind of guy. maybe not his every day cape and tunic but i think of him in teal velvet for a special occasion and him really liking the texture.... and if his partner, whether a king or duchess or songstress or anyone else, were to be wearing it he would idly brush his hand against them more often than were they to be wearing a different fabric.

i think he'd also like to feel the bricks of whatever castle/fort/monastery he was visiting, maybe surreptitiously take off a glove as he's walking alone and brushing his fingertips over the stone and thinking of time he spent there or perhaps the people who lived and worked there long before he arrived...

[styleofdiamandis]

MUSIC VIDEO: BLUE

Directed by Charlotte Rutherford, the music video for Marina's track, "Blue," unfolds within the nostalgic landscape of Dreamland, the UK's oldest amusement park. Beyond its melodic allure, the video presents a curated visual experience, showcasing Marina's distinctive fashion choices against the backdrop of an iconic location.

For the opening sequence of the music video, the songstress graced the screen in an exquisite ensemble that set the tone for the entire visual experience.

Marina effortlessly blended sophistication with a touch of whimsy as she adorned Australian brand The Fifth Label's Just For Now white wrap dress, featuring a tasteful tie waist that added an elegant dimension to her look.

Adding a bold and avant-garde touch to her ensemble, Marina accessorized with the Kitti clear acetate cat-eye sunglasses from another Aussie label, Quay.

Elevating her ensemble to unparalleled heights of sophistication, Marina added the final brushstroke to her look with the Carlita vintage metallic silver leather pumps from Liudmila's Fall/Winter 2015 "Peranatoriana" collection.

Buckle up as we accompany M on a thrilling ride through Dreamland, where her fashion journey takes a dazzling turn. In a spectacular display of glitz and glamour, Marina emerges on the scene donning a silver sequined jumpsuit crafted by the emerging designer label, Isolated Heroes.

The sleeveless design allows Marina the freedom to move with unrestrained confidence, capturing the essence of the music video's energetic rhythm. The silver sequins catch the vibrant lights of the amusement park, creating a mesmerizing play of reflections that mirrors the joy and exuberance of the surroundings.

In the mystical realm of Dreamland, Marina transforms into a fortune teller, and her ethereal look is accentuated by the exquisite jewelry designs from Pandora, the esteemed sponsor of the video. Pandora's creations, known for their timeless elegance, adorn Marina's hands and wrists with a curated selection of bracelets and rings, each piece telling a story of its own.

Among the dazzling array of jewelry, Ma chose to grace her fingers with the Majestic Feathers bypass ring, a design that adds a touch of enchantment to the fortune teller aesthetic.

As the crescendo of "Blue" builds to its peak, the Welsh-Greek singer takes center stage in a high-energy dancing sequence, adorned in a show-stopping custom creation by emerging designer Paula Knorr. The sleeveless jumpsuit, crafted from red and purple lamé, becomes a visual symphony of movement and color, amplifying the dynamism of the music and Marina's electrifying performance.

This bespoke piece is a testament to Paula's innovative design sensibilities, drawing inspiration from her MA graduate collection to create a garment that seamlessly fuses boldness and grace.

[fervency-if]

If the women were men and men women in this game: what would their names be and how would they present?

I got an additional ask from the same anon clarifying that they meant "present" as in "how they would dress."

I'll put the Physician under the cut since her name is a secret to everybody but a select few. I owe her that.

It would be cool to say that everyone would present exactly the same, since I think a personal style is more interesting than just conforming to what's popular regarding one's gender, but since there are outside factors (and some that might be quite subconscious,) as well as personal choices, the results here vary from person to person. There aren't a lot of differences all in all, though. That said, gender roles aren't strict in Fervency-land. People don't bat an eye towards people dressing in gender-nonconforming ways. It's mostly what's fashionable, it doesn't really go deeper than that.

This list, just as many of them, are not at all complete since there are many people one haven't met, and so on, but here are a few.

Aubrey... well. There would be no difference whatsoever. A female Aubrey would have the same name, the same hairstyle, and wear the same type of clothes. Aubrey doesn't care about anything else than what Aubrey finds stylish and comfortable.

Vesa would still be named Vesa, and I can see him dressing in either of two ways; either the very same, dresses, red lips, the all, or in a more gender conforming way; tight suits instead of dresses, a thin moustache instead of the lipstick, and hair slicked back instead of the page boy haircut, but still with jewelry and feathers. However Vesa would dress, there would be feathers and jewelry, that's for certain.

Narciso (who, for castrato-reasons, can't be anything other than a man since he would just be seen as a lovely songstress if he were a woman,) would be named Narcisa, and she would have a similar style, but use skirts more often than trousers.

Francesco would be Francesca, and she would dress the same; dapper, and with her hair tied up in a ponytail, but instead of a moustache, she would pluck her eyebrows thin and high.

Bess would be Eli, short for Elliot, since Bess is short for Elisabeth, and he would still be a dashing dandy with a fine top hat, but do some things differently. Eli would wear fancy pearl necklaces instead of fancy cravats, but his hair would be shorter and with sideburns instead of Bess' long, braided hair.

Bryars would still be named Bryars, and she would dress the same. There hasn't been much said about Bryars' personal style yet, but Bryars loves wearing suspenders. If it's cold outside, Bryars wears long trousers, and if it's hot, Bryars wears either shorter trousers or skirts, regardless of gender. Comfort before all. Comfort and suspenders, that is.

The same goes for Maryam, or Marlin, as she would be named if she was a man. Maryam and Bryars dress similar to one another; they're not related, but they basically see themselves as twins. They grew up together and loved to dress similar to one another to show their friendly and familiar connection. They aren't certain of who started the "suspenders as our signature style"-thing.

Lucille Celestina would be Lucian Celestino (with the nickname Luke or... I'm not certain.) I think he would wear a royal blue tuxedo; he would look lovely in a royal blue dress, but I imagine the Physician to be quite gender-conforming regarding how they dress. He would still have equally long hair, though.

[scarletrefrain]

dance like you mean it

Dancing was a change of pace for Dorothea. She had practiced honing her voice as a fine tool for years. It was her pride and joy. But she still knew the ins and outs of basic folk dancing as well as how to attract a crowd. Some things could not be helped, especially when she had to rely on her skills to survive. 

But today was no doom and gloom! Hubie and Ganglot were joining her in the center of town. If Dorothea was honest with herself, the idea of Hubert dancing to get coin would make herself laugh until she choked. She could not remember how things ended up like this, only that she was more than happy to oblige and Hubert was grumbling. The addition of Ganglot was intimidating, but it was nothing Dorothea could not get through. 

They made way to the centre of town when the songstress realized they would need some music to get started. Anything, really, just a basic tune. She turned to Hubert and Ganglot, wondering if either of them knew how to play. 

An older man from the village grinned a toothy smile and brought out what seemed to be some sort of instrument. The melody began and Dorothea had her cue. She felt as light on her feet as feathers and began a step sequence. Something simple, to start off, twirling to the music and letting her body feel the rhythm. Then, she turned to Hubert and Ganglot and invited them to join her.

@crimsonvassalage @ganglotte