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#it's really cute to think about okay..

egophiliac · 1 month

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Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !

Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)

I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!

someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)

uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers #twisted wonderland episode 7 part 4 spoilers #twisted wonderland book 7 part 4 spoilers #mel is so cute but mal fits with the rest of the draconias better #eng version no you were supposed to save me not make things MORE confusing #anyway raverne huh #that uh. that sure feels like it's supposed to evoke raven doesn't it.#what does it mean WHAT DOES IT MEAN #hold on i'm going to flail around embarrassingly about anime character theories now #(okay first a disclaimer: i do think we need to sit down as a fandom at some point)#(and have a discussion about exactly what is actual canon versus meta speculation versus jokes)#(because i think there has been. some confusion. over that re:crowley and raverne specifically)#(but i do feel justified in being like THEY ARE PROBABLY CONNECTED SOMEHOW RIGHT?! right now)#like i really don't think it's as simple as crowley being raverne but with memory loss or something #(and if they pull that on us i'm going to need an EXTREMELY good explanation to go with it to justify that)#they've gone out of their way several times now to make a point about them acting and sounding different and it feels very intentional to m #(and once again: i super 100% absolutely do not believe that lilia wouldn't recognize him with the top half of his face covered)#i just think the contradictions are a lot stronger than the connections right now but there ARE some connections and i'm 👀ing at them #to be fair the connections are mostly meta like crowley being diablo/raverne being evocative of raven #also the general 'raverne mysteriously disappeared and apparently had distinctive eyes' thing #versus 'crowley's past is unknown and he never shows his eyes'#(i will argue that crowley DOES seem to have some kind of canon connection to briar valley)#(since he is clearly some sort of fae and the masks are a briar valley thing)#and that is kinda it right now isn't it #okay hold on i had to delete some tags because i used too many (thanks tumblr for letting me know and not just vanishing them OH WAIT)#so tl;dr: i'm in the 'crowley is connected to raverne somehow but it's more complicated than just him being in disguise' camp personally #but that will probably change as we get more info and also don't take this as an anti-speculation thing because i love theories HOORAY

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thelien-art · 5 months

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Shieldmaiden of Rohan, and Lady of Ithilien; Warrior and Healer

Chamomile: Chamomile helps to improve sleep, reduce anxiety, hay fever, inflammation, muscle spasms, wounds, ulcers, digestive disorders, and rheumatic pain - Chamomile symbolizes joy, positivity, peace, grace, and good luck.

Calendula: Calendula treats burns, bruises, and cuts - Calendula symbolizes endurance (due to its long bloom time), joy, remembrance, and grief.

Lavender: Lavender helps with sleep, treats skin blemishes, relieves pain, reduces blood pressure, combats fungus growth, and promotes hair growth; Lavender symbolizes purity, devotion, serenity, and grace - the color purple is the color of royalty, elegance, refinement and luxury.

Taraxacum (dandelion): Taraxacum leaves are used to stimulate the appetit, help digestion, and help the immune system - Taraxacum symbolizes hope, strength, and transformation.

Eowyn lived in Ithilien with Faramir, who had been declared ruling Prince of the land, after the war of the ring, and dwelt together in the hills of Emyn Arnen, where she was known as both the Lady of Ithilien and Emyn Arnen, as well as Shieldmaiden of Rohan, and shield arm.

#tolkien #jrr tolkien #lotr #lord of the rings #eowyn #dernhelm #rohan #tolkien art #lotr art #also tolkien said that she kept her friendship with merry even after he became master of buckland #i also think a lot about how its really cute he became a knight of rohan and i like to think she was the one doing it #meriadoc brandybuck you are here by a knight of rohan #i love it okay #i should make a faramir one too #my art #digital art #last note the longinsh hair in her earrings are supposed to be horse hair

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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drunk Bakugou that keeps blinking big wet eyes up at you while you help him get undressed and brush his teeth and wash his face. he’s slurring the whole time about how much he loves you and how pretty you are and how you’re the better part of him and how he’s gonna marry you and give you two and a half kids and a dog and a cat. muffles half of his confessions into your stomach where he keeps resting his heavy head, and doesn’t care about the tears and and toothpaste he’s getting on you in the process. no, he doesn’t remember everything when he wakes up, but he has an idea of what he’s said when you wake up with a grin, ready and armed to tease him.

#okay gn lol #I want to get this big man so drunk that he has to be carried like a burlap sack over eiji’s shoulder #the image of this has me in literal tears #he’s a lightweight too and I think that’s so cute of him #okay but Eiji who can hold his liquor really well 👀#and tries to take care of you and bkg at the same time 👀#but the two of you just concocted a plan of climbing this mountain of a man tonight 👀#okay now let me write about caretaker Eiji who never really gets more than buzzed #and offers to care for you (and maybe bkg too 👀) after a night out 🏃🏽‍♂️#I’ll write it in the morning for I yam sleepy #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬#tw: drunk

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lovesickeros · 5 days

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☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.