Hi hi to all the sillies of the world!!!!
So, I’ve decided that I’m not gonna use this account anymore, or tumblr in general really. Social media has become overwhelming, and being on so many platforms and having a plethora of different accounts, side accounts has just been a whole lot. It’s been getting me down recently.
So I’ve decided to get rid of this one!!
I won’t be deleting anything on here, all my accounts will still be up, I just won’t be active on them until further notice. Maybe I’ll come back one faithful day or hop on every now and then…but for the most part it’s gonna be radio silence here🫡
That being said!!!!! I will still be active on Instagram under the username ‘Teazzrr’ in case you still want to follow me and see new art(hopefully)!!
But really, thanks for supporting me on here! And thank you if you continue to on Instagram. Some of the reblogs and things written in the tags and my ask box are just the sweetest things I’ve read ever, and they’ve given me a good laugh! I genuinely appreciate all of you, and all the kind words!!!!
All in all, not gone, just won’t be here on tumblr any longer, and this was a really long way of saying that, lolz!! :]
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Hello :>
V. An abandoned or empty place.
I'd like to request Seer.
She's one of my favorites. I'd love to see what you do with her.
CW: mild self-harm
The blasting wind sliced through her ruff, splaying it open and inviting the chill in, flattening her antennae to her head, scouring her eyes until they burned. She tucked her tattered wings more firmly behind her, ensuring their edges did not catch the gale, though it exposed her brittle shell to the elements.
It was cold, in the dark, on top of the world.
She was ill-prepared, no cloak or headscarf, not so much as knitted gloves to keep her hands from stiffening. She did not often leave her home, now. There were no more mourners to comfort, no more rituals to oversee. Her duties to the living were over, and now her only task was to guard the dead in their graves, beneath the kingdom’s eternal twilight.
This should not take long. The dead would wait.
Tucking her satchel more firmly under her arm, she hobbled forward, fighting both the force of the wind and her own aching limbs. This would be the last time she was able to make this journey, perhaps. She should not be here at all, as every blinding pulse of the spell-stones along the path reminded her. This place was not hers. This was no-mans-land, the scorched earth between two battlefronts, decrepit and crumbling under the oppressive dark sky that would nevermore see its sun.
She could not quite bring herself to feel the grief she had once held so close. It seemed she felt little of anything now, only this slowly growing weight within her shell: the burden of age, of regret, of things she had never truly let go of, and knew she never would.
Her memories were falling away, though she knew that she should try to prevent it. That she should clutch them tight, no matter how much they hurt, pressing them close like a fistful of embers, keeping her pain alive, branding her regrets into her very shell. With the gray monotony of every long, wearing day in the silent graveyard, the vivid scars of the past were fading.
Perhaps that was why she was here. It was obedience as much as rebellion—reopening the wound, falling back into her old sins. She was not allowed to forget. She was not allowed to leave the pain behind.
The sting of grief dug beneath her shell like a claw, fresh again for an instant, as she passed below the first crowned stone arch. She had only the records of her ancestors to tell her what it had been like to worship here, in the light of the dawn; she had been born into a sunless age, after her people forsook one light for another, drawn away from the glaring brilliance of their own goddess towards the cold, remote glow of a new-forged reign. That she had not taken part in their betrayal was of no consequence; she had enabled another, when she and her peers whispered of what their forebears had abandoned.
And now she was the only one who remembered this, and remember she would. Memory was her crime, and memory was her penance, as none but her remained to endure it.
She reached the peak, panting, dizzy, and slumped to her knees, ducking her head, allowing herself a moment to breathe. The cliff yawned below her, with the distant glow of soul at her back, as motes of light shed from the seals danced upward between the gaping arches, vanishing into low, ragged clouds that blew ceaselessly past, never offering so much as a drop of rain to the cracked and empty stone.
She did not speak. She had no prayers to say. At the feet of her silent goddess, kneeling before the last remnant of the deity that had created and then destroyed her people, she brought her numb hands to her chest and buried them in her fur, grasping tighter until the roots of it ached, until she could begin to feel something like what she should, until the pain was sharp and real, not dull and worn down to nothing.
Against the deadening of time, she would remain. Against the pull of ages, she would remain. Against the wearing weight of duty, she would remain.
She would not rest.
It was forbidden.
It was this thought that brought her back from the cold, from the exhaustion that beckoned her. She shivered, leaned one shoulder against the statue beside her, and reached for her satchel.
What she had brought was not a proper offering. It was valuable, but crude, unrefined, no fine idol or handmade effigy. She had not the tools nor the skills to shape it, or the freedom to find someone who could. The hunk of pale metal was unreasonably heavy in her hands, glowing brightly enough that it cast shadows on her shell, with a burning-cold core that she felt even past the numbness in her fingers.
A god-touched thing for a forsaken place. A reminder that this had once been something more than a forgotten monument: a precious place, a place of meaning.
Perhaps whoever found it here would pause to wonder.
The seer stood, one hand braced against the carven stone, and took brief shelter in its winged shadow.
Then she put her back to the wind, bowing her shoulders as it snatched at the cover of her wings, and strode back toward the quiet comfort of her graves.
Read on AO3
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