Riri writes

this is @riri-shark-in-perpetual-motion 's writing side blog so all my stuff doesn't get lost

I'll also post about my ocs here when I get a change

I'll also post my drawings and art and stuff (when it's good) on here so it's not dead

Tags-

#riri reblogs - reblogging something I wrote

#riri's ao3 - stuff from me ao3

#riri writes - all my writing

#riri's ocs - about my ocs

my ao3 account

fic masterlist

OCs :3

Tagging all my moots so they know I'm here-

Frankie

Ae got horns! also Ae are still deaf.

Alistor

(the more i look at the full body drawing, the more they look like a medieval drawing)(but im pretty proud of it)(the scribbles on his right side are burn scars)

it got proper burn scars, an eye patch, and turned into a snake boy.

Abel

(the lower image is the proper size and placement of them)

name- Bizzy

prns- she/its

Its blocky shape means it walks quite stiffly, but its voice is incredibly sonourous and melodic (due to the fact that shes made of metal and also because of all the wells and all the dips and ridges bismuth has). Because of this, she is a very popular singer/model (cause I think they'd be the same/very similar jobs because of the echolocation thingy) however this quality means its voice is a little bit harder for Grace to initially understand.

ref sheet (kinda bad lowkey, also hasnt got all the bismuthy wells in it yet cause I havent actually gotten a proper design for it, just the shapes)-

magic girl transformation

ryland grace attempts. the ones with his glasses on are a bit long because i was leaning really far back so yeah. also cool little eye, squiggles, and grace staring into your soul /silly. also some cursive thingies (blurred bits are names)

I don't do anything I don't understand.

White dress, dirty hands.

So how have I come to be like this?

White dress, dirty hands.

Standing knee deep in the ground.

White dress, dirty hands.

Clinging to the earth in my palms.

White dress, dirty hands.

Wearing my wedding clothes from ages past.

White dress, dirty hands.

What have I done?

I'm wearing a white dress, I have dirty hands, I'm knee deep in my grave that I am digging.

And I do not understand.

We got married on a rainy day in April,

the thirty first, I remember it well.

You were ethereal, heavenly, pure,

your complexion as pale as snow.

I can't seem to look at you when the sun hits your face,

my gaze seems to go right through you.

That doesn't stop you being mesmerizing, my dear,

even when I can't see you.

You vowed to steal my breath with every kiss,

and I vowed to always warm your deathly cold hands.

For you, my dear, I'd take all my savings

to buy the oldest home I can

so we can spend our honeymoon phase in a haunted house.

Let the groans and creaks dictate our days.

Let the ghouls and ghosts spectate our love.

I am not a fool, my dear.

I know this is the work of a madman.

But tell me, my dear, how am I supposed to let you go

if every breath reminds me of the last you took.

Paths overgrown with grass.

Dandelions growing in the concrete cracks.

Microscopic rainforests found under the sidewalks.

Ivy creeping up our walls.

Wasps nests hiding in our sheds.

Birds nests nestled in our attics.

Looking around, we can the tapestries.

Tapestries of our demise.

When the last building has fallen and the last man takes his final breath,

then the green things who hunger will rise.

With my family, the living reminder

that I'm still here to stay.

It was an old graveyard,

no names legible,

every remnant of these people

who stepped on the same earth as I am,

eroded away.

Forgotten.

Forgotten by us, not the earth.

How could she forget, she saw these people grow.

She saw these people thrive.

She saw these people die.

So as a gift to this loss,

a gift to these people of ages past,

our mother earth leaves a gift to her people

so there were wildflowers.

Wildflowers on an unmarked grave.

sunflowers in my eyes,

cherry blossoms in my ribcage,

and ivy in my thighs.

I am but a product of my surroundings,

and my surroundings are all flowers.

How grateful I am for the way I am living

and I plan to cherish every hour.