“I think she would have fun with that. She has new rain boots she wants to jump around in.”
❝ You think so...? --- Okay. --- Fakir...? What does cold feel like? ❞

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@schwxnprinz
“I think she would have fun with that. She has new rain boots she wants to jump around in.”
❝ You think so...? --- Okay. --- Fakir...? What does cold feel like? ❞

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“Do you want to play in puddles with Uzura once it stops?”
❝ ----- I don’t know. ❞
❝ --- Fakir. It’s snowing. ❞

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His distraction doesn’t escape her notice. Rue’s own gaze is drawn to the small creature peering at them from the winding branches; a singular spot of yellow in a landscape of greens. Somehow, the action both warms her heart and fills her with dread all the same. Heart or no heart, Mytho has always been attune to the weakness of small creatures— animals, children. She had once been just like that bird; small and frail and needing of care. Now, it is Mytho who needs it and Rue is all too happy to tendt o his needs when he is not otherwise under Fakir’s watchful eye. Rue’s gaze still lingers on the bird as she speaks, the discussion of their pas de deux momentarily forgotten.
❝—When was the last time you ate? Did Fakir feed you this morning?❞
Even before he answers, Rue is already reaching for the picnic basket at her side. Inside, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches, a thermos of soup, two glasses and water sit nestled atop a checkered blanket.
Despite her clear address, his attention never falters from the twittering creature above. Soft is the tune, a lilting melody warbled up from a golden throat, and to both sound and motion is his focus drawn. Perhaps it is that Rue is simply not seen as a small, weak creature through his transparent, doll-like eyes. It is Rue that feeds him, Rue that cares for him, Rue that directs his actions -- a direction without which, he’d surely be lost. From all angles, it is clear that Rue is strong compared to him... ...and yet, what does it truly mean to be strong? He can’t remember. He doesn’t need to. ❝ --- ...Mm? Yes. This...morning. ❞ The answer is as distant as his gaze, which traces the plumes of pure sunlight as they’re stretched toward the skies, into which the little bird takes flight. --- He cannot follow it there.
“There isn’t anything more you need to know. You already know more than you should have ever learned. If you were clueless, you would be safe. Go to bed.”
Obedience. Blind faith. It is all that he knows, and all that he has. It guides him back to the bed, leaving the gilded knob of their dorm room’s door cold in the wake of his pale fingers. Cold --- does he recognize that feeling...? ❝ ----- Okay, Fakir. ❞
“You don’t need to listen to voices that aren’t mine. Go back to bed.”
❝ --- But...Fakir... it knows my name. It called me ❛ Prince. ❜ What if it knows more...? I --- I want to ask it what it knows. ❞
❛ Really? Well, don’t you think she would enjoy that? ❜
❝ ...? I don’t know. I don’t know how that feels...to ENJOY something. ❞

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your head is both lonely & crowded ; a hundred different versions of yourself and not a single one understands the rest.
@schwxnprinz
“Mytho. Where do you think you’re going? It’s almost curfew.”
❝ ----- There was a voice... MOANING... it’s calling to me... ❞
princess tutu aesthetics - prince siegfried / mytho
Humans are very weak; they break easily. If they are broken, that means that everything is over.
Tomoe - Mikage (via kyoya-morislove)
and so we watched you disappear

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Princess Kraehe transformation
We love you, Prince.
Morris Day, thanking his host for last night’s show at Paisley Park. (via jaygabler)