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#vierapril2024
sae-mian · 2 days
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『PAST』
[Nira'sae's "past" is a little more "present" than they'd like.]
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
[VIERAPRIL2024]
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midnightmagicks · 14 days
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Day 15: Spark
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Curiosity and kindness sparked by a mother's love and patience <3
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elf-simp · 20 days
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09: Reflection (liliturgy prompt list)
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"Has it really been that long..?"
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meguhime · 21 days
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“Bertram, stay with us,” she tries to soothe him through her raspy voice, shattered from screaming. She takes one of his hands and lifts it to her lips, placing a kiss on the inside of his palm, right above his wrist. “Stay with me. We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”
8. Sunrise + Sunset for Au Ra April and 8. Alone for Vierapril
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sladez · 22 days
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Au Ra April & Vierapril 2024
VI. Fave Weapon & Bloom
Seishin is at his happiest with dirt under his fingernails.
It is a meditative act, gardening. Tilling the soil with scarred fingers, twisting the roots of a weed around them and pulling it out by ghost-white tendrils. Sowing and reaping, cultivating; creating life with hands that take it.
He sits on his knees in the yard repentantly as he works amid vegetables and sheaves of amber. It’s smaller than the farm and gardens of his youth, but it fits them; it’s theirs. With fists that strike, that kill, he nurtures and protects. His hands are both his weapons and the tools of a healer.
He punches holes in the dirt to plant seeds. His arms bare the tale of revolution. On their surface scars crisscross like river channels. Some tell stories; many are lost to time. There are some he can name: a knuckle where a chisel slipped; a slash from Ran’jit’s scythe on his forearm; a chip on his ivory scales from a woodsaw; a lucky shot from a Garlean soldier whose name he’ll never know but whose life he ended with the same hand. He pats down the soil around the seeds like a grave and grabs a copper watering can to nourish them.
The sun is getting low and the air cool and dewy as he finishes his work planting and weeding. After putting the rest of his tools away he pulls from his belt a kama, the gentle curve of its blade glinting in the evening light, and makes his way to a stand of blooming brightlilies. In genuflection he kneels to them and wraps his fingers around the flower stalks like arteries and pulls them taut, holds the blade against their stems. The petals are vibrant bursts of sunset orange and yellow, and when Seishin cuts their shoots they come soft and willingly.
Inside, the lights are warm and a pleasant aroma hangs in the air. As Seishin removes his sandals in the entryway, a sweet voice greets him from around the corner. “Perfect timing, Seishin! Bertram should be done with dinner soon.” Styrnrael appears, in a sleeveless top and jacket tied around her waist, wiping the sweat from her brow with one hand and holding a broom with the other. “Oh!” she exclaims when she sees the flowers in his hands. A familiar tenderness spreads in Seishin’s chest when she smiles. She rests the broom against the wall and goes to him on the steps, bounding across the wooden floor with the same perfect balance she has on the battlefield. She puts her smaller hands on his as she leans in to smell the lilies. There is a resonance in the way the callouses on her sword hand rub against his scars.
She pulls away from the flowers and Seishin laughs and wipes some pollen that got on her nose, orange upon indigo. He rests his fingers against her horn and the dark scales on the side of her face and pulls her into a kiss. They stay for a moment, foreheads pressed together, smiling against each other’s lips. She holds her hand on his chest, just above the sweeping scar left by Zenos’ blade. Most of Styrnrael's own scars are on the inside, on her heart and her mind. Memories she had lost, and more she doubtless wishes she could. “I think I know the perfect thing to put these flowers in,” she says, and he follows her into the sunroom where she grabs a crystal blue vase from the bottom shelf of his planting bench. Before handing it to him she runs a cloth through the inside of the deep drum to clean out any dust. Her wrist flicks with the expert strokes of a fencer. Many stories have met sudden conclusions by that same movement.
“I’m going to go get changed before dinner,” she says, leaning up to kiss him again before they part. “Don’t forget to wash up!”
“I’ll be there soon,” he smiles, and after she leaves Seishin fills the vase with water and trims the stems at an angle. He peels the ends apart slightly with his fingertips: another little violence in the crafting of something beautiful. He takes his cobalt hair down and washes his hands, and grabs a clean overshirt from a hook next to Styrn’s sunhat.
He heads downstairs with vase in hand and his footsteps are gradually drowned out by the loud sizzle of meat and vegetables in a wok. A familiar sweet and savory smell fills Seishin’s nostrils. He rounds the corner at the bottom and Bertram is in the kitchen with his back turned. Under his apron his white sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing his own rosy map of scars of blade and fire. They tell the story of a survivor, against Word, against time, against despair; of pain and rebirth in the flame. He deftly wields a pair of long bamboo chopsticks, at home with them perhaps even more than he is with sword and scythe. One of his tall ears twitches toward the stairs and Bertram turns to Seishin and smiles; Seishin loves the way he ties his hair back when he cooks, revealing more of his face under his shock of red.
The dining room table is of live edge wood that Seishin had chopped and planed and sanded himself. Again and again life replacing death replacing life by his hand. He gently places the vase of flowers on it and joins Bertram in the kitchen, coming up behind the Viera and wrapping his arms tightly around him. “Hot stove, hot stove!” Bertram exclaims anxiously. “Hold on a moment…” He puts the chopsticks to the side and with mitts moves the wok off the woodfire stove onto a trivet. He spins around in Seishin’s arms, planting one hand on the edge of the counter behind him and carding his flamescarred fingers through Seishin’s hair with the other. “Okay, there we go. Honestly, Seishin—” and he pulls him down into a kiss. When Seishin laughs and apologizes Bertram just leans further into his lips, not letting him go. They hold each other for a moment longer before Bertram leans back and looks into his eyes. “If you want to help so bad, you could at least take these bowls to the table.”
Styrnrael emerges from their room in a loose tunic and wraps Bertram in a kiss of her own. Seishin walks past them holding a trio of rice bowls and she briefly reaches with her tail and catches his, the friction of their scales holding them tight. They set the table together: three warriors, three gardeners, three homemakers. And as they sit around the table, filling their home with soft laughter into the night around beautiful blooms of blue and lily-orange, Seishin looks down at the scars on all their hands, these that have created and destroyed and created again, and marvels that three people who have been prized by the world only for their sharp edges can at last find some gentleness together.
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shadowentei · 25 days
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Vierapril Day 1: Regal
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coldshrugs · 27 days
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Hi! I'm so sorry to be a bother, but I saw your first Vierapril post and I was wondering if you had the prompt list for Vierapril2024 on hand or knew where I could find it. My Google-fu is failing me and Io just looks so damn pretty that I'm inspired to jump in and participate.
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hi hello, bog!!! please, you're never a bother 💗 always happy to help! and i'm glad you found the link!! gonna share these for other folks who might still need them.
a few lists are going around from what i can tell, but these are what i'll be pulling from, depending on what inspires :>
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sae-mian · 20 days
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『DAMAGE』
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
[VIERAPRIL2024]
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sae-mian · 28 days
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『REGAL』
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
[VIERAPRIL2024]
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midnightmagicks · 15 days
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Day 14: Embarrass
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A moment in which a young viera with too much curiosity causes their mother, sisters, and village members unending amounts of stress. Someone Everyone wasn't paying attention and the baby wandered into the jungle. Thankfully....dad was there to bring them back.
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sae-mian · 11 days
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『STRETCH』
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
[VIERAPRIL2024]
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midnightmagicks · 11 days
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Day 18: Stretch
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If he looks washed out No He Doesn't
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sae-mian · 6 days
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『BEAM』
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
[VIERAPRIL2024]
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midnightmagicks · 26 days
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Day 3: Wish
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midnightmagicks · 27 days
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Day 2: Payment
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sae-mian · 12 days
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『MEAL』
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
[VIERAPRIL2024]
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