Smell Of Dead Flowers

I love seeing a meme and being like oh, tumblrs going to love this one

This look sick !

Killing each other during a fight ~

What a beautifull ending that would be

But I think Hakita will do something crazier

i need them kill each other and die together

so apparently in 815 CE there was a common belief that sky pirates sailed ships in the clouds and (working in collaberation with frankish weather wizards) stole all the crops that got damaged in storms and took them back to the cloud realm of magonia.

And this was apparently a common enough belief that an archbishop felt the need to write a treatise to debunk it and insist that only god controls the weather, which is the only reason we know about it.

there are three important points to take from this, i think

This is great inspiration for your next dnd game

Tropes that might seem relatively modern (like airship pirates) can often actually go WAY back

The stuff your average medieval christian actually believed in will often have very little resemblance to christianity. And thats before you even get to the proper heretics.

Some words of encouragement from Ais to whoever needs this for today. <3

hyper shadow by @/bubblGst on tw

somebody tell these two weird looking beetles to stop freaking it on my computer screen

this ask polly comment..

— Nikita Gill

Thinking about Ais perched up against one of the wooden planks atop the columns of the Seaspring. Thinking how the salty breeze tousled his hair as he gazed out at the vast expanse of the wastelands beyond the temple, a cigarette's smoke curled up lazily from between his fingers, ashes falling gently to the sparkling crimson water below. Thinking about him taking a deep drag from his cigarette, letting his eyes flatter close as he exhales slowly into the crisp night air, the nicotine tingling his senses and the smoke filling his lungs, momentarily choking out Ocuedus' thunderous screaming in his head.

Thinking about Kuras in his clinic, studying patient applications in the dim candlelight, brow furrowed in concentration. Thinking about how the long shadows of his past constantly danced across the walls, mocking him as he meticulously reviewed each case, guilt and regret running their hands through his dark hair, whispering reminders of his past mistakes. Thinking about him momentarily freezing in fear of his conscience rearing its ugly head, pulling and pushing him closer and closer to the edge of his sanity. Thinking about him finally shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath, taking off his glasses briefly to relieve the strain of hours spent poring over medical records, leaning back against his chair, and letting fatigue overrun him, finally allowing himself a moment of respite.

Thinking about Vere lurking in an unfamiliar house, sitting alone on the balcony and staring out into the night. Thinking about the wind whispering through the trees and blowing his hair into his face, and him shoving it out of the way with a huff. Thinking about him sighning and leaning back against the rail, reaching up toying with the chain around his collar, running his fingers over its cold links. Thinking about how all was quiet at this hour, and he could feel the solitude beginning to get to him. Thinking about him closing his eyes, letting out a long breath and trying to push away the sudden hyperawareness that had settled over him, having to center himself and slow his heart rate that had begun to quicken, forcing his mind to focus on the task at hand, not allowing himself to seek any form of comfort in the moment; when the world seemed to slow down and allowed him to appreciate its beauty. Thinking about how he knew he couldn't stay there forever, after all.

Thinking about Leander sitting alone at the bar, Bloodhounds around him talking and laughing, making him feel more isolated than ever. Thinking about him taking a sip of his drink trying to drown out the sound of their jovial conversations, the bitter taste in his mouth only serving to mirror the ache in his heart. Thinking about him being unable to shake the feeling that he didn't belong—like an outsider in his own pack. Thinking about him staring into the bottom of his glass, wondering if he would ever truly feel like he belonged anywhere. Thinking about him running a hand through his hair, the other gripping the glass tighter, as he looks up and scans the room, hoping to find a distraction from his own thoughts. Thinking about how, even if he manages to find someone to spend the night with, it never fills the void he feels inside, and he always wakes up alone in the morning.

Thinking about Mhin stumbling from exhaustion after killing another Soulless, its blood spattered across their face and staining their once white shirt. Thinking about them collapsing to the ground, pain radiating through their body and ragged breaths escaping their lips, echoing through the clearing. Thinking about their silver dagger clutched tightly in their hand, the moonlight glinting off the blade, dripping with the blood of the enemy. Thinking about them fighting to keep their eyes from fluttering closed as darkness crept in at the edges of their vision. Thinking about them using their final burst of energy to force themselves to sit upright against a nearby wall before their mind can finally succumb to the overwhelming fatigue. Thinking about them humming softly to themselves—something akin to a lullaby, a calming and comforting melody in the dead of night, hauntingly beautiful and wafting through the darkness until the morning birds respond with their own song.

Thinking about how lonely they all are…