boosting my ko-fi because i have nothing to eat for dinner and lunch tomorrow and would like to have food
ojovivo

Love Begins

#extradirty

Product Placement
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Kaledo Art

shark vs the universe
One Nice Bug Per Day
trying on a metaphor

ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation
Xuebing Du
KIROKAZE
taylor price

Janaina Medeiros
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
wallacepolsom

blake kathryn

NASA

ā
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@3amcorners
boosting my ko-fi because i have nothing to eat for dinner and lunch tomorrow and would like to have food

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Unforeseen
finally works on a prompt
this kinda turned more into a bit of a ventfic...ish?
but warning for child death mention
one word prompt
35. Unforeseen
He saw his death coming. Perhaps this was what made him lucky on his last few days of living: to allow himself the preparation for the death to comeā¦or maybe there was more to it than that.
Ion was a kind kid. And a self-aware one. He knew of the peopleās views on the Sunchildren ā knew that they would not take kindly to him. He knew of the Jibashiriās reluctance towards him after facing the failures of Risutaiosu and then Surepio after, and it all weighed upon him.Ā
He must have wondered: what could I do better for my people? What could I do that the other Sunchildren failed to do? It was a feat too much for a child like him, but he took it all the same in a way that a child would.Ā
Ion was a skilled fortuneteller, or he claimed to be before his people, and people had their doubts at first ā the same way they had doubted Surepioās capabilities of tending to their wounds.Ā
But Ion insisted, and heād tell their fortunes, staring into the scry glass he had, waiting and waiting until it felt like time had frozen over him ā that was when you knew that their fate had been revealed to him. And heād take a few seconds more before a smile pushed its way across his face, and heād gaze at the person and tell them, āThere is good fortune ahead of you.āĀ
Ion would say more than just that: heād sprinkle in how itād come to them, what to do to curry the fortune all the more, and what to avoid, and at the end of it, he would give the person a handcrafted sigil, made the night prior in his quarters.Ā
People did like good fortunes. People enjoyed hearing good things for themselves, and therefore, they would become piqued by his fortunes. More and more people would come, and more and more fortunes would be told, and Ion would not reject any one person from a good fortune.Ā
Perhaps we should have suspected it sooner, but we had never seen the people so happy when they interacted with the Sunchild. And so the fortunes stayed, and the sigils with them.Ā
But soon enough, fate would bring these fortunes to light ā the false fortunes to light, and in the face of these misfortunes, he would become a victim of his own making.Ā
Ion was ā that was how he could predict his own death. Whatever he had truly seen in the scry glass, it must not have been good for anyone if he had chosen to lie for their sake ā not wanting to tell of their doom or the tragedy that would play out.Ā
Our leader was a liar, but Ion was a kind kid.Ā
The Solar Rite came, and his people couldnāt wait for the start of a new reign.Ā The son returned to his father, and his people built a grave to honor Ion no Mikoto's name.Ā
I wonder: Was he loved in the end?Ā
He couldnāt be worse than those children of the past, gifting things instead of destroying them, giving hope instead of crushing it.Ā
The rejections of these sigils he gifted say otherwise. The anger these adults would unleash against their leader ā a child, no less ā would say otherwise. They build this shrine to Ion no Mikoto, at the edge of Byakuyakoku, and lay the remnant of their former leader with it like they wash their hands of any relation to him.Ā
But when he offered them these sigils and dreams of a bright future, there was love in the eyes of people ā something that no other Sunchild would ever face. When people came to visit, seeking out more fortunetelling and he gave them happier things to hope for, there was love there. Despite the results of his short-acting kindness ā despite the cruelty of his final days ā wouldnāt these joyful moments be considered love?Ā
Was he loved in the end? No, but I like to think he was, even for a brief moment. And maybe in future generations to come, the brevity of this love will echo in time, and they will see these rejections as gifts to a leader they had once adored.Ā
That is all I could hope for for Ion.Ā
I place my own sigil beside his grave.Ā
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Posted the prompt I did on AO3 now !
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Posted the prompt I did on AO3 now !
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Posted the prompt I did on AO3 now !

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Posted the prompt I did on AO3 now !
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Posted the prompt I did on AO3 now !
3 or 31
hi anon! sorry it took a bit but i did want to finish this today haha
I don't really know if it turned out... okay, but you know. I'll edit it another time
31. ā lies
āHere is the map of Byakuyakoku,ā He raised the paper in his hands for her to see: overuse clear in the crinkles that would have made the topography of the map lifelike⦠had it not been so crudely drawn. His finger tapped at one spot of it: the three points of Helios clear on the smudge that would presumably be the piece of land they call their home.Ā
He shifted to use his other hand, pointing to the opposite side of the map ā a bigger blob than Byakuyakoku.Ā
āAnd this is the world outside!ā Piramumon told her.Ā
The world outside? To anyone else, this would be an unknown, but to Clymene, an official of Byakuyakoku, she knew this was true.
Clymene gasped, opening her mouth, but just when she felt the vibrations of her voice in her throat, she stopped herself, covering her mouth instantly to cease any noise.Ā
Piramumon stared at her, clear white irises that blinked back in confusion, āWhat?ā
She gazed back at the bedroom door, feeling her heart hammer against her chest, but a few seconds of stillness eased her.Ā
Biting down on her lips, Clymene lowered her hand from her face as she arched her brows and shook her head sternly.
Piramumon narrowed his eyes at her response.
āI didnāt even tell you what I was going to do yet!ā He argued, and with a small huff, he continued his explanation, āAnyways, you see this red line here?āĀ
His small pointer finger traced the road drawn between little Byakuyakoku and the unknown outside smudges before smiling above his map, grasping the edges proudly, āThis is how Iām going to get to the outside world!āĀ
Get toā¦the outside world?Ā
She snickered. She slapped her hand over her mouth to suppress the bellowing laughter that threatened to escape her. In no way was this map proficient enough of a clear route to go to the outside world, but to a kid, it must have meant everything. She could see it in how his eyes shone or how fast he spoke when he explained. And it was obvious, too, in how eager he was to show her this map.Ā
Clymene took a deep breath and sighed out silently, lowering her hand when she felt she was in control of her laughter, and she smiled at the child before her, whose eyes were as curious and wide as the depths below their kingdom.Ā
Then she offered her hand, gesturing with the wave of her fingers to hand her the map.
And briskly, Piramumon placed it in her hand (she almost feared that his doing so would rip his efforts).Ā
Looking carefully, she could see small figures: a drawing of himself standing at the beginning of this red route in bright yellow on top of the black smudge of Byakuyakoku ā a bright and eager smile just like the one he held now.Ā
Her thumb rubbed close to their home on the map, not being able to fight back a quiet chuckle at the sight.
āSo once the Solar Rite ritual is over, Iām gonna find my way there!ā
Her limbs stiffened, expression dropped an instant.
How could she forget about the Solar Rite? It was coming so soon. She even knew it, walking into this room today. It was hard for her to pay any attention to Piramumon until the very second he had stuffed the map in her face.Ā
But his smile, the little hopes he had drawn upon this map he gave her ā the brief moment of joy with him that could delude her to thinking of them as only mother and child ā it made her forget.Ā
Her eyes strained. She couldnāt tell him the truth. She couldnāt say anything at all. She could only fight back the grimace that strained her expression, forcing a smile at Piramumon and offering his map back to him.
And carelessly, heād take it back, eyes still brimming with joy and hope, staring at his dreams and pride and not at the lie that sits upon her lips.Ā
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
i havent written poems in a while but i had to do it for an extra class im in and since then ive been wanting to pick up song writing
except i have none of my instruments on me except singing

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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i'm never gonna finish this fic so here take snippets of the unfinished product:
It might have been the first memory his young mind could truly understand. When the arguments between his parents sounded analogous to the barkings of dogs, incomprehensible to his ears, it
[And there was fire. Sparks. The birth of something beautiful in the laughters of his parents ā a resolution unspoken. It was there he finds warmth that Rigel couldnāt offer, crackles in his heart like firewood. And on this memory he was established.
[To his fatherās grave, Berkut vowed that the crackles heās learned shall birth a legacy unforgotten so long as he shall stand and create a family of his own. He swears.]
[To his motherās, the vow shall be made solemn in the physical form of the ring she once bore: a reminder of what should have been and what could still be should he wish it.]
[To his parents, he swears to their ashes, their fire burning out to their
[His ears tickle at the sound of her words, surges fire in a place he wouldnāt have guessed it would once more. Images dance across his mind as she shares, and the crackles.]
[Was she to be the one to put this fire out? The one to whom heād give the entirety of Valentia to.
No. Not by her traitorous hands. If she were to be the one to extinguish his flames, then he shall burn her all away before she could ever lay another hand on him again. Burn her away to save himself.
Burn it all away.
Her chilling screeches that echo in the tower in exchange for warmth once more.
His face cracks like wood into a smile.
There was fire once more.
Memory Item #11: Sandals
This is a sort of continuation to MI: iPod
I had heard the news from my friend. The way they spoke so nonchalantly about it all made it harder to comprehend. The end? Just by sleeping. How they had lost their family already as soon as reports started to fill the news.
How I hadnāt known before was a surprise, but that day, when we both were walking by the beach, I was having different thoughts on my mind: I was thinking about the other night about that song ā about a warm embrace of someone I knew long ago, a soft voice of comfort as light as the wind, a face of understanding. How the memories of them drifted away and have now left me with a feeling as though it were a dream.
Then the news. It was the news that made me freeze in realization. It was the realization that I had failed to contact that person in such a long time. That even when we had shared so many memories together, and how they have done so much for me, I havenāt talked to them. Now it was the end. Anyone could go so easily, just by drifting away in sleep.
A sudden longing for that ethereal warmth urged me to run.
I didnāt care.
I knew where to go find them. I needed to see them one last time. To be in that warm embrace as I have lately dreamed to be.
I ran as much as I could, following a Ā path toward the hill that separates the two cities, when I tripped on my sandal and fell off the side of the hillā¦.
Everything hurt. My head oozed blood and my arm and leg broke from the fall. I could feel scratches from the branches all over my body. Everything was just mere pain and overwhelmed, I cried loudly.
But even in that moment, despite how much pain I was feeling, a sea of regret washed over me. It was the acknowledgement that it was impossible to grant my wish. You were too far away and I was the one who left you behind.
And yet, I still have the courage to wish to see you again. To feel your warmth again. To hear your voice once more. I wanted to hold that love close to me once moreā¦
I begged for my body to get up, but everything hurt from the fall. It began to tire, and my fear grew.
No, pleaseā¦. I didnāt want this to be the end. I wanted to see you again! Please⦠I just want to be with you againā¦