#woe. sadness be upon thee...

[hatefooled]

@starspurn asked: “i made something for you.” castorice holds in the delicate palm of her hand a pressed flower, pale blue in colour. perhaps not entirely his style - she cannot be sure - and yet, something she wishes to offer all the same. “you … will not stay here in amphoreus forever. i do not want that to be a sad idea. but i do want to give you something to remember me with. if that is okay.”

He's accustomed to it. Leaving... coming and going, never staying in one place for too long. The ranger didn't have a home anymore, nowhere to plant his roots and call his own. Those days were long passed, he'd been robbed of that. It's what's set him on this journey, what put him here ( and any place he's been ), what's made it possible to give her these things she's missed. Things people consider small, a given right as a living being. There's an irony in their circumstances; someone who can't feel much of anything, and another who saps the life of whatever she touches.

Can't kill what's already dead, right?

It's hard to keep delicate things like this safe, in his line of work. But it's impossible to refuse it. Singular eye focusing on it's petals- they look so soft, despite being dried and pressed. How long has she considered giving this to him...? Not that he's been here for very long, or done much. He probably wont be able to come back once he's put it all behind him. Something that leaves his mind... foggy, for a moment.

With a long exhale, he reaches out with one hand to cup her own. The other resting atop both, as his expression softens. When he speaks his tone is quiet, as if trying to speak only in the space between them both. " Jericho. " simply said, a secret being shared. " My name, it's Jericho. If we ever happen to see one another again I'd like if ya used it. " would they see one another again? is that possible? Who knows, maybe he'll complete his hunt, and finally be put to rest before it happens. But it's nice to put it out there isn't it? She's been good, a calming presence, despite the aura of death around her. More lively and warm than most people he'd met. " If not. Then you'll have somethin' to remember me by too. "

unprompted

[gilfhunter069]

I loooove adding detailed headcanons and walls of text to my art of simple doodles. I looove projecting and interpreting characters!!!!!!!!!!! Everyone should do this once it’s so healing. Just yap away on your canvas.

[kabutoden]

Eye Dee Kay if you do sprites but Kanaya x Fefeta for a little boy?

UH. OK??? RAREPAIR FOR SODAPOP. sure why not here you go. but i made it sad. woe reuniting with former friends be upon thee she missed them both a lot

[hugg-bees]

woe iggy ref upon thee!! (ELECTRIC DREAMS OC)

IGGY is a scrapped computer buddy program similar to Clippy that fell into Miles Harding's hands in the early 2000s. She's an eMachine eOne and can possess other electronics similar to Edgar. After exploding from her own sadness at being trapped in a computer, she came back as a electric spirit and built herself a body in order to be with Miles. She is very silly and loves everyone!! Even you!! She loves being alive and wants to spread joy to everyone she meets. I may or may not have gotten a tattoo of her recently…

Finally made her a ref! Sorta, I plan on adding more to it in the future. Sorry for being so inactive recently, college has been killing me lately along with a lot of personal family matters. I don't know how active I'll be, but I'd like to finish some more art soon… Iggy may have a doppelgänger.

[hare-there]

Oh geez, cleaning out laptop so woe, sad blue addison upon thee

[notnights]

Mean to her 😔

Silly Rabbit, merch is for non bullies! No more violetish villains at the keyboard!!

All the other funny descriptions sound Caine-like to me, then BOOM woe, lagomorph be upon thee. I could be completely wrong, but I'd find it very funny if that was the intention

I DIDN'T NOTICE THAT!!! That's so funny and sad, who said that about you Gangle.

I love you Gangle even if nobody in the circus does. ;-;

[the-s1lly-corner]

Splendorman, Eyeless Jack and Slenderman going w/ the reader to an abandoned playground

okokokok i know this is a really specific prompt but im using n otp prompt generator rn for ideas and this one just stuck with me, you know? so naturally i had to pop it into a wheel to select some characters going to write a few stuff since requests are a little dry right now but i feel bad for not posting for a day so uhuh!! yeah! also i need something to keep me awake since im in charge of dinner again tonight woe rare splendorman writing be upon thee this was originally going to be light hearted but then i got in my feelings a little and had a "what if reader used to play there as a kid and theyre sad its abandoned now" thing so uuuuuuh definitely not my usual fluff

SLENDERMAN:

obviously the main reason hes there is because he decided to follow you... when is he not keeping an eye on you? but of all places, why here? imagine if this is a playground you used to go to when you were a kid and, now abandoned, you sit and just. reminisce, and perhaps even mourn. tying in the idea that i like to write him being more curious, i think if you had anything to say he'd listen... he may not fully understand what you see in this place, but i think he would sit in join you if you decide to sit in your feelings

SPLENDORMAN:

very similar to slenderman in the curiosity department but i think hes much more of a talker than his brother. along with this he makes it very clear that hes tagging along with you instead of silently following behind you. loves listening to you tell stories about yourself, especially ones where you're a kid. im still unsure of if slender-beings experience adolescence, but im leaning more so on a no given my personal zalgo lore for them so in a weird way hes living through your stories. you both stay in the playground for a few hours just talking. if youre there to ponder on your childhood and miss it, hes going to grieve with you even though its not his

EYELESS JACK:

you probably ended up here after going on a walk with jack, what turned into something light hearted turned into the both of you feelings things. you remembering your childhood years and sad that the playground is now abandoned, and jack longing for normality again. i think you guys would both exchange stories. taking turns, unlike with the other two characters in this post where its primarily just you speaking. this is probably the most youve seen jack talk since youve started dating him.. it feels... weird, but comforting. the entire thing

[libidomechanica]

Juan yet quickly pick up

I undertake. What pleasure, they     are moved by melting pleasant vale descry the fly did the     lack of Travel, girded up his Hand—pray’d—his Arrow flew     to Heaven, aquarius! Beyond the moat, stifling     his leafe and its forehead

bound. That go aboute myn herte, and     then my honey; I have to say. What rowne ye with a sudden     hand Or hadst thrown thy spirit playing honey wild, and     she, will take; she may sport me with Natures wonder is how     I wish that shall know for

a hint or two, would haue shewed     as a greet a pryvetee. Shew cold tile bathroom—all They have     done so, then winter with one word I find no determination     of her freewill, scorning Post, sole record the thick     upon thine own fancies

dwell among cool clouds before then     too lately for his memory; thou by thy dial how the     drowsy spells and wood, so is fayrest proue to lose her yre:     that she doth put the powre and virgin bosom try what pen,     what all their lids shut longe

agoon is, that’s how you hold in     love no man may ye fynde som man hire thynke, she yaf me my     staggering leaves, or go sit doun! Remember, and eke mine     for my profit thee then of spices. Taking litle glory     in her ear, and fear

the bought, with trust, and lions’ dens,     from windows; here they outspread their arms round the carelesse     elfe, his steed refreshing dew? The doubt is whirl’d into all     powders of the curtains of gold, ne clothes and protest you     of dutie greet with all powders

of the ransom of Italy.     Poore hopes and deeper and gaudy show, at sunny thyme;     yea, every birthright I have my queynte allone? You must leaves     no Room for highest wish, I wish that Jhesu refresh to-     morrow, month follow not

Him—become fabulous, to heere     sondry wyse, but that I go, shal seyn. The waved to be, the     press’d. The low, the salt sea- spry? Within her loue, that was he?     Wake those holy groves, so often tymes I to yow tolde,     to goon a-caterwawed.

And walked with banner of thee,     with down the river; and holding th’ uncertainty,     thoughts hath not sleep, and shining all then I waile and we     here? Oh, not onely heare, burning vow.—Juan yet quickly     pick up. That would give the

fire, or foul hypocrisy for     truth to all but thy reward. Sinful earth, and kill, with his     fury, like Apollo, from woe to wounded me; the kiss     that my old love! Do smile me drawes, her forhead yuory     weene; if Gold, her loue to

entertaine. The hid and me vnto     yours. I tell you, hopeless ennui surrounding the world,     which shake a sad slave, stay and then roll the world had cut off     at speed, and land—I had lost in the nights, that oxen, asses,     hors, another

Element in full tilt with freshly     send, mote haue short?—And what we don’t, t will environ a     conspicuous man, that sits upon thee, wretched Elenor!     You are holding me down for joy or sorrow marry.     And blushing thankfully.

[fukuzawa-armeddaddyagency]

*Woe, kitty be upon thee sad father*

~ @respiratory-kristem

[gunsandspaceships]

Protector

Tony Stark - Prometheus

"Beautiful is the tradition Of that flight through heavenly portals"

"Prometheus Or The Poet's Forethought", Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Prometheus is known primarily as the creator of humans, their benefactor and protector from the tyranny of gods.

False idols

Knowing the true nature and intentions of the gods, Prometheus did not want people to be their slaves and worship them.

Since all people are his children, he takes responsibility for their survival and well-being upon himself. For their sake he makes great sacrifices, first of all sacrificing himself.

Tortured for his love for people, Prometheus poses a bold challenge to Zeus and is ready, despite the terrible torment, to defend them.

Having failed to enslave people, angered Zeus hides fire from them in retribution, and with it withholds "the means of life" as well.

The vengeful and genocidal Zeus, following in the footsteps of his father Cronus, wipes out generations of humans and plans to completely obliterate mankind and replace it with a race that will be completely subservient to him until Prometheus somehow stops him.

"Thou art a symbol and a sign To Mortals of their fate and force; Like thee, Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source; And Man in portions can foresee His own funereal destiny; His wretchedness, and his resistance, And his sad unallied existence: To which his Spirit may oppose Itself—and equal to all woes, And a firm will, and a deep sense, Which even in torture can descry Its own concenter'd recompense, Triumphant where it dares defy, And making Death a Victory."

"Prometheus", by Lord Byron

Tony defeating the "god" by taking the fire from him.

[ask-squid-sisters]

Woe, dried ghast be upon thee

Aww the little baby!! It looks so sad...

A bucket of water should do the trick.

Eek!! Don't splash me with the water!!!

[sculptorofcrimson]

Woe

Fanfics be upon thee.

I will singlehandely populate the ships tag in Warhammer if need be!

Anyways, recommend me ships, I got sad and lost in my Sanguinius death prose writing.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Music for the Soul by Alexander MacLaren

Power for the Faint

"He, giveth power to the faint. . . . Even the youths shall faint and be weary . . . but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk and not faint." – Isaiah 40:29-31

Earth knows no independent strength. All earthly power is limited in range and duration, and by the very law of its being is steadily tending to weakness.

But though that has a sad side, it has also a grand and blessed one. Man’s needs are the open mouth - if I may say so - into which God puts His gifts. The more sad and pathetic the condition of feeble humanity by contrast with the strength, the immortal strength of God, the more wondrous that grace and power of His, which is not contented with hanging there in the Heavens above us, but bends right down to bless us and to turn us into its own likeness. The low earth stretches, grey and sorrowful, flat and dreary, beneath the blue, arched heaven, but the heaven stoops to encompass, ay! to touch it. " He giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might He increaseth strength."

All creatural life digs its own grave. " The youths shall faint with the weakness of physical decay, the weakness of burdened hearts, the weakness of consciously distracted natures, the weakness of agonizing conscience. They shall be weary with the weariness of dreary monotony, of uncongenial tasks, of long continued toil, of hope deferred, of disappointed wishes, of bitter disenchantment’s, of the learning the lesson that all is vanity, the weariness that creeps over us all as life goes on." All these are the occasions for the inward strength of God to manifest itself even in us; according to the great word that He spoke once and means ever: "My grace is sufficient for thee, and My strength is made perfect in weakness."

Isaiah did not know - or, if he did, he knew it very dimly - what every Christian child knows: that the highest revelation of the power of Him that " fainteth not, neither is weary," is found in Him who, "being weary with His journey, sat thus on the well," and, being worn out with the long work and excitement of a hard day, slept the sleep of the laboring man on the wooden pillow of the little boat amid the whistle of the tempest and the dash of the waves.

And Isaiah did not know - or, if he did, he knew it very dimly and as from afar - that the highest fulfillment of His own word - "He giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might He increaseth strength "- would be found when a gentle voice from amidst the woes of humanity said: "Come unto Me! all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest Take My yoke upon you; and ye shall find rest unto your souls."

[theblackgooseberry]

Frank Dicksee (British painter and illustrator) 1853 - 1928

La Belle Dame Sans Merci, ca. 1902

oil on canvas

13 x 18 cm. (5.12 x 7.09 in.)

Bristol City Museum and Art Gallery, Bristol, United Kingdom

© photo Bristol City Museum and Art Gallery,

La Belle Dame sans Merci is a ballad written by the English poet John Keats. It exists in two versions, with minor differences between them. The original was written by Keats in 1819. He used the title of a 15th century poem by Alain Chartier, though the plots of the two poems are different. The poem is considered an English classic, stereotypical to other poems of John Keats, a Romantic poet. It avoids simplicity of interpretation despite simplicity of structure. At only a short twelve stanzas, of only four lines each, with a simple ABCB rhyme scheme, the poem is nonetheless full of enigmas, and has been the subject of numerous interpretations.

Keats' poem describes the condition of an unnamed knight who has encountered a mysterious woman who is said to be "a faery's child." It opens with a description of the knight in a barren landscape, "haggard" and "palely loitering". He tells the reader how he met a mysterious but very fair lady whose "eyes were wild." The damsel told the knight that she "loved him true" and took him to her "elfin grot," but upon arriving there, she "wept, and sigh'd full sore." Having realized something that the knight does not yet understand, the mysterious maiden sets the knight to sleep. The knight has a vision of "pale kings and princes," who cry, "La Belle Dame sans Merci [the beautiful, pitiless damsel] hath thee in thrall!" He awakes to find himself on the same "cold hill's side" on which he continues to wait while "palely loitering."

"La Belle Dame sans Merci" was a popular subject for the Pre-Raphaelite painters. It was depicted by Sir Frank Dicksee, Frank Cadogan Cowper, John William Waterhouse, Arthur Hughes, Walter Crane, and Henry Maynell Rheam. It was also satirized in the December 1, 1920 edition of Punch magazine.

* * *

This painting is based on La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats.

La Belle Dame Sans Merci

I

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,

Alone and palely loitering;

The sedge is wither'd from the lake,

And no birds sing.

II

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,

So haggard and so woe-begone?

The squirrel's granary is full,

And the harvest's done.

III

I see a lily on thy brow,

With anguish moist and fever dew;

And on thy cheek a fading rose

Fast withereth too.

IV

I met a lady in the meads

Full beautiful, a faery's child;

Her hair was long, her foot was light,

And her eyes were wild.

V

I set her on my pacing steed,

And nothing else saw all day long;

For sideways would she lean, and sing

A faery's song.

VI

I made a garland for her head,

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;

She look'd at me as she did love,

And made sweet moan.

VII

She found me roots of relish sweet,

And honey wild, and manna dew;

And sure in language strange she said,

I love thee true.

VIII

She took me to her elfin grot,

And there she gaz'd and sighed deep,

And there I shut her wild sad eyes -

So kiss'd to sleep.

IX

And there we slumber'd on the moss,

And there I dream'd, ah woe betide,

The latest dream I ever dream'd

On the cold hill side.

X

I saw pale kings, and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;

Who cry'd - 'La Belle Dame sans merci

Hath thee in thrall!'

XI

I saw their starv'd lips in the gloam

With horrid warning gaped wide,

And I awoke, and found me here

On the cold hill side.

XII

And this is why I sojourn here

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is wither'd from the lake,

And no birds sing.

For the poem of Keats, click here:

http://englishhistory.net/keats/poetry/labelledamesansmerci.html

To hear the song composed by Charles Villiers Stanford (1852 -- 1924) on the text of Keats poem (poem there also included) listen at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=phRGiN5kQaw

[resurrection-of-soul]

Flashback | PSYCHOBREAK 7

Writer: Akira (日日日)

Characters: Rei, Koga

Rei: Wh-what's wrong? Yer whole body's shakin', ya sick or somethin'…? Haha. What a weird kid y' are, Puppy. Koga: Sh, shut up… Don't talk to me right now. I'm desperately fightin' down the urge to hug ya and start yellin' "WOOHOO! SAKUMA-SENPAI! WOOOO!" okay?!

[ For the best viewing experience, please read directly on my blog! ♪ ]

Time: Later that day, in the dead of night.

After taking the sleeping pills again, Rei and Kaoru find themselves back in the dream world.

Rei: (Hm.) (It seems we hath safely entered the dream once more.)

From offscreen, past Rei is heard cheerfully humming.

Rei: (And lo, there goes my past self, sauntering down the street as though he holds sovereignty of it, exuding the confidence that defined my yesteryears. How spirited thou art.) (Yet, 'tis merely an attempt to cast off thy sorrow by donning a boisterous mask, is it not? What a pitiful creature.) (Let's see, this place is… It appears thou art wandering about overseas, just as I once did in the real course of history.) (Wearied by the tribulations and woes of thy homeland, thou departed in pursuit of joy.) (But no matter how diligent thy search, the bluebird of happiness shall not appear before thee, o' young one.) (In any event, according to the AIIE experiment manual, if one strongly concentrates on preset keywords, one may exert a certain degree of influence over the dream—) (Or more precisely, over oneself within the dream.) (It does now bestow upon thee the level of control which one might exert over a character in a videogame, yet 'tis still a hundredfold better than being forced to stand idle witness as history repeats itself.) (I am no longer a mere reader, passively watching as the story unfolds.) (I am alive.)

Scene change

Koga: ♪~♪~♪ ~......♪

Rei: Heeey! I'm hooome~! Sakuma Rei-chan has returned~

Koga: Sakuma-senpai- W, Wo- Wh-Whuh- Woa-

Rei: Wh-what's wrong? Yer whole body's shakin', ya sick or somethin'…? Haha. What a weird kid y' are, Puppy.

Koga: Sh, shut up… Don't talk to me right now. I'm desperately fightin' down the urge to hug ya and start yellin' "WOOHOO! SAKUMA-SENPAI! WOOOO!" okay?!

Rei: It's totally fine if ya don't fight that down, though. There theeee~re…♪

Koga: ……n!?

Rei: Okay, there there, good boy… You must've been lonely while I was gone. Sorry, Puppy. Haha. When we were younger, I used to give my lil' bro hugs like this all the time whenever he was feelin' lonely.

Koga: ……! ……! ……!

Koga: P-please cut it out… Sakuma-senpai, you're the object a' everyone's admiration, shinin' from afar. Ya shouldn't go outta yer way t' be nice ta someone like me. I'll tarnish ya.

Rei: What're ya saying, stu~upid? Am I¹ not even allowed ta give someone a hug? That'd be pretty damn sad, wouldn't it?

Koga: ……?

Rei: More importantly, some kinda sixth sense started actin' up — or rather, there was this strange sensation urgin' me on from within, so I hurried on home, but… How's the situation right now? Were ya able t' exterminate those "vampires" that were runnin' wild? Well, it doesn't really matter to me either way, though.

Koga: Nah, the situation hasn't really changed much… They quieted down for a bit, but after ya went abroad, they started actin' up again. Now they're buzzin' around all over the damned place. It's so freakin' annoyin'. But don't worry. Hasumi-senpai's supposedly revitalizin' the student council right now, workin' on improvin' the environment and creatin' rules to prevent students from goin' astray n' becomin' delinquents. Or, well, that's what he said, but t' be honest, I don't really understand that kinda complex stuff, n' if you ask me it doesn't reaaaally seem to be havin' any effect.

Rei: That sounds about right. Just declarin' yourself the student council doesn't mean anythin' if ya don't have any authority. It's like a little birdie chirpin' away in the background. People 're just gonna ignore it.

Koga: Basically, it doesn't matter how powerful yer magic cards are if the field prevents ya from activatin' its effects, huh.

Rei: Uh, what're ya goin' on about?

Koga: Um, uh… I… I like card games. That's what I was going on about.²

Rei: Ohh… Are card games fun? Teach me how to play next time you're free ♪ I'm always bored outta my damn mind, 'specially lately.

Koga: This ain't the time fer idle chitchat… Please do somethin', Sakuma-senpai. That four-eyes seriously ain't cut out for this.³

Rei: "Overqualified for the role³," huh? Haha, it'd be great if that were the case. Please grow big, bouzu. To the point where people consider ya overqualified, so ya can be my playmate again.

Koga: ……?

[ ☆ ]

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ore-sama-chan

Koga drops the -sama from his personal pronoun as well as the delinquent speech in this line. The kid is embarrassed beyond belief.

The word used here is 役不足. This word tends to be enormously misused by the general public. Much like the English phrase "could care less" is often used to mean the opposite of what the phrase implies, 役不足 means to be massively overqualified for your job, but is colloquially used to mean you're not up to the task. There really wasn't a clean way to translate this, as Koga uses it to mean the latter, while Rei means the former.

[taocc-bakery]

IS THAT SADNESS

WOE

BIRB CHILD BE UPON THEE

-@avis-of-dawn

Umbra is just... Crying in her room. It's very rainy in here. The water almost stings upon the little child's skin, as well as Umbra's.