She Who Shuns Duty
Maëliss/20/France

Art student with a passion for cats. I draw things.

The fandoms I mostly blog are Tactics Ogre, Final Fantasy (especially IX, XII and Tactics) and Bravely Default.

My sweet lovebird is Bluebudgie.

ai-rika:

Because you guys are AWESOME, more Korrasami yussssss

Asami

Korra

Photog

Bolin behind the scenes lolol. 

Kiss on the hand. I decided to do this one digitally, I hope it’s alright.

A kiss on the ~”back”~/wing.

I get secondhand embarassment when a movie French character (played by an English actor) whose English is supposed to be terrible starts speaking French and it sounds just as bad so I have to pause, listen to the scene all over again to try and decipher it.

draklorleah replied to your post: Also because this has kept on happenin…

HELLO LOU YOU ARE A MAGNIFICENT PERSON.

Ahh Leah! ;v; Not sure what I did to deserve your kindness but hello you big sweetheart!

Also because this has kept on happening the last month, I apologize if I haven’t answered some asks, it’s very likely tumblr swallowed it and I never got to see it :l

toterfisch:

Loreena McKennitt - Ce He Mise le Ulaingt? (The Two Trees)

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart
The holy tree is growing there;
From joy the holy branches start
And all the trembling flowers they bear.
The changing colours of its fruit
Have dowered the stars with merry light;
The surety of its hidden root
Has planted quiet in the night;
The shaking of its leafy head
Has given the waves their melody.
And made my lips and music wed,
Murmuring a wizard song for thee,
There the Loves a circle go,
The flaming circle of our days,
Gyring, spiring to and fro
In those great ignorant leafy ways;
Remembering all that shaken hair
And how the winged sandals dart
Thine eyes grow full of tender care;
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.


Gaze no more in the bitter glass
The demons, with their subtle guile,
Lift up before us when they pass,
Or only gaze a little while;
For there a fatal image grows
That the stormy night receives,
Roots half hidden under snows,
Broken boughs and blackened leaves.
For all things turn to barrenness
In the dim glass the demons hold,
The glass of outer weariness,
Made when God slept in times of old.
There, through the broken branches, go
The ravens of unresting thought;
Flying, crying, to and fro,
Cruel claw and hungry throat,
Or else they stand and sniff the wind,
And shake their ragged wings: alas!
Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:
Gaze no more in the bitter glass.
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,
The holy tree is growing there;
From joy the holy branches start,
And all the trembling branches bear.
Remembering all that shaken hair
And how the winged sandals dart,
Thine eyes grow full of tender care;
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.

Cletienne and his rendez-vous mission’s female only mage party.