#sparrow stories

[sparrowsupportgroup]

₊˚.༄ sweetness for the void ₊˚.༄

“Sweetness that can burn the tongue, that’s what Mhin hungered for.”

pairing: kuras/mhin

fandom: touchstarved

a/n: a lil’ story that I wrote for someone for the Secret Cupid gift exchange :) I hope y’all enjoy!!!!!

Sweetness that can burn the tongue, that’s what Mhin hungered for.

In the bitter nights, as the blood of a wretched Soulless stained their clothes and hands and face, Mhin’s stomach would feel a strange pang, their stiletto knife heavy in their grasp. Mhin would scan the despicable body for any signs of life - for the mere flutter of an eyelid, for the tick of a pulse under vile, translucent flesh, for the weak, grating rasp of something unworthy trying to cling to life, trying to survive - before delivering the killing blow, their blade sinking into the beast’s jugular with little effort.

Sometimes, Mhin would slit a Soulless’ throat knowing it was already dead, not for any reason beyond the grim satisfaction of the further destruction of something they deeply detested. It was their work; it was their responsibility. But on nights like those, that queer pang would throb in the core of them, like a second, sicker heartbeat, much more prominent than the many pulses before it.

As the vermin’s blood began to pool at the toes of their boots, their pallid, somber face shining back at them in the gore, Mhin finally realized the size of the void expanding inside them; this void was a galaxy, a phenomenon, a dark whirlpool that devoured the light and the stars and the moon in search of the one thing it desperately carved.

Sweetness that can soothe the ache; that’s what Mhin wanted but would never admit.

But Kuras knew. Kuras always knew what was wrong, even when something ails the soul and not the body.

Mhin tried not to make eye contact with the doctor; they didn’t want the hopeful, almost demure gleam of Kuras’s eyes to be imprinted in their mind, nor did they want his eyes to catch the vibrant flushing of their cheeks.

So, Mhin had no choice but to stare at Kuras’s present for them, being slid in their direction like a peace offering on a plate: a slice of a spongy light brown and white cake crowned with red and blue berries, smelling of warmth and loveliness.

“It’s a gift,” Kuras murmurs, a gentle smile playing on his lips that made Mhin’s stomach lurch pleasantly, though they refused to understand why. “A cake. Angel food cake, to be exact.”

Kuras’s eyes sang with a certain whimsy then, as if he and the universe were in on a miraculously clever inside joke that Mhin wasn’t privy to.

When Mhin didn’t say anything for quite some time, Kuras’s brows immediately furrowed with apologetic empathy. “I did not make the cake myself if that is your concern.” Kuras smiled again, but there was a melancholic glow to it now. “My attempts at baking have been…less than satisfactory, I’m disappointed to admit. I thought it was in your best interest to purchase a cake instead.” Kuras’s eyes shifted away, as if ashamed, and Mhin’s heart sank. “I apologize that it is not to your liking.”

Mhin quickly picked up a fork. “That’s not it,” they bite out and instantly grimace, their voice sounding much harsher than they intended. Kuras looked at them, patient as ever, and Mhin silently cursed the way his golden eyes sparkled so earnestly, how the honeyed brightness of them stoked the dwindling flame within Mhin’s blackening spirit.

“It’s just…,” Mhin searched for the right words, their mind working faster than their mouth, much to their agitation. “Why? Why would you buy me a cake?”

This time, Kuras is silent for a moment. His ever-watchful eyes observed Mhin’s face for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, now three. Mhin felt like a moth, forcefully pinned yet anxiously fluttering, under Kuras’s arresting gaze. What do you see? What will you find? What do you want?

“I am concerned for you.” Kuras finally spoke, his eyes soft and beautiful like a sunrise, and Mhin swallowed, a strange warmth glowing inside their chest. “I believe you deserve something sweet, for all the troubles you have endured in Eridia.” Sweetness that can fill the void.

Sweetness cannot thrive in this festering city, in this decaying world; sweetness was to be drained from the root before it even had a chance to bloom from the cracked concrete. Mhin knew this all too well, tendrils of resentment snaking around their heart. Yes, they knew how cruel the world can be. But Kuras was different; Kuras was the sole white pearl entrapped in a sea of black tar. He has mended their wounds, protected them as they chased the fitful phantoms of sleep, stood beside them in the dirt and grim and racket of the Wet Wick, a comforting hand on their shoulder. Kuras would not harm them. Kuras would not harm them. He would not.

And so, even with the familiar venomous whisper in the back of their mind hissing, what if you’re not safe here? What if he’s not safe?, Mhin speared the slice of cake as if it were a floundering Soulless and stuffed the bits of the desert in their mouth and swallowed and -

Fluff. The taste of soft fluff, as if made from a sweet spring cloud woven by Kuras’s healing hands and sugared with notes of vanilla and nutmeg, coated Mhin’s tongue. All those nights when they would go to bed in the cold, alone and covered in blood, high from the adrenaline of a Soulless kill, with their stomach and soul empty; the many torturous days scouring Eridia for a cure for their curse, feeling lesser than an ant hunting for food on the sordid ground; the aching pit inside of them, ravenous and hollow and always demanding more more more, never content, never satisfied; it all faded away to nothing, to nothing more than gossamer webs spinning in the wind.

None of the pain mattered anymore. Nothing mattered except for the present, the moment where Mhin exists now, where they stuff their gullet full of sweet angel food cake and Kuras just drank it all in.

Mhin didn’t notice it then, but Kuras was subtly mirroring their movements, mimicking the flexing of their fingers around their fork, the rise and fall of their hand from the plate to their mouth, the savoring of a delicacy filled with both sugar and spice, loaded with fluff and joy.

With the sweetness still heavy on his tongue, Kuras watched Mhin eat the angel food cake across from him. For the first time in his long-suffering eons spent alive, Kuras felt true, aching hunger.

#sparrow stories #touchstarved game #happy valentine’s day y’all!!!!!!!! #kuras x mhin #mhin x kuras

[whimsicallywiddershins]

You can really tell when fantasy book art started to go downhill when people started bringing computers into it. I really miss the days of gorgeous, highly detailed hand-drawn cover art. When did stock images and barely detailed photos become mainstream for book art?

#look at the bruises on Kel's face #from jousting and fighting #Daine's wild smoky curls #the richly detailed clothing #the story details like #numair the hawk #and the griffen #the little sparrow on squire's cover #the emotion in clouds eyes #tamora pierce #tortall #squire #wild magic #protector of the small #the immortals #books #cover art #book art #keladry of mindelan #veralidaine sarrasri #daine the wildmage

[leafatlaw]

Ask me how normal i am about sl! Scott and pearl, ask me i dare you

Their fucking,,, “were past that” “i love you” in the early episodes- pearl not saying it back– Scotts reluctance to team up with the mounders.. and then fucking scott in the final fight telling gem “you cant team with her[Pearl]”. they are so abnormal about eachother, worlds worst exs

#sparrow speaks #with alot of traffic smp stuff i try to be hyperaware of not making peoples entire stories revolve around some other guy #traffic smp #galaxy duo #scott smajor #pearlescentmoon #secret life #sl smp

[lavapulsemods]

The birds of A New Beginning

I'm obsessed with the sparrows' cheeks. They're so round!

#that chick has seen the cosmos #harvest moon #story of seasons #bokumono #harvest moon a new beginning #low poly #chicken #duck #sparrow

[sketchingsparrow]

"For many, they had known King Aydisthair for centuries as he came and went within their forest villages-- helping the local hunters gather provisions for the winter or aiding the rangers in keeping homes safe from predatory beasts. A kindly tracker they thought he was, not a king disguised, coming personally and without guard, to ensure the safety of his people."

#sparrow dnd #fantasy illustration #character design #original story #original character

[froggywentaprincin]

Why did I just realize sparrows technically a prince

#I know he isn’t referred to as one because that isn’t where his story starts #but still #Marian was a princess #robin married marian #eah #ever after high #sparrow hood #eah sparrow hood

[cerealforkart]

III. Lost in the Woods

“Nicholas! I found someone who knows the way out of here,” Princess Sparrow said, but when Prince Nicholas turned to see the guide she spoke of, he found her kneeling in the dirt.

“Who are you talking to?” Nicholas asked.

The Prince went to stand behind the Princess, but swiftly regretted the decision when he found himself meeting the eight glossy black eyes of the hairy beast crawling over the Princess’s bare arm.

“She knows every leaf and root of this forest, she says he can have us back to the road within an hour,” Princess Sparrow said. She raised the monster to properly meet her travelling companion, seemingly unable to identify the spider as grotesque.

Nicholas screamed.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #sparrow oak #nick close #nicholas foster #doodly #fairytale au #lovesong #the spider’s name is Sasha btw #I’m drawing these out of order btw #so there’s no chapter ii excerpt and art rn #I’m just throwing arbitrary numbers where I assume scenes would fit #In the book that doesn’t exist #edited because I forgot her cuff #which is actually pretty important to the story

[queenburd]

These tags made me happy 😊😊

So I doodled him today. Stanley B my special boy, you WOULD sympathize with the Princess despite everything.

(For this curious, Stanley B isn’t your basic Stanley from TSP. His Parable got…. Well, a little more intense. This isn’t your mom’s TSP. He has a good reason for relating to someone like the Princess.)

#the sparrow parable #parable actors #repeat and write this story #the stanley parable #slay the princess #just a little!!

[ellena-asg]

#pirates of the caribbean #james norrington #jack sparrow #sparrington #potcedit #pre-sparrington #young jack sparrow series #sins of the father (bless this book) #I chose Isaak Presley as teen Jack and Asher Morrissette as little James #oh to have it in the movie as Gibb's story! (can only dream) #victims of their fathers #two lost boys #soulmates on the opposite sides #entwined #destiny or something like that #the angstiest men in the Caribbean #they're everything and their story breaks my heart #OTP so damn much

[roguetelepaths]

Smarter people than me have probably made this analysis, but I've been getting into Jesus Christ Superstar recently (1973 movie and 2012 arena tour) and I'm obsessed with how Not The Main Character Jesus is. For the first half of the musical, we see him predominantly through everyone else's idea of and reactions to him— he is loved and hated and worshipped and asked for things by all of these people, but he himself is mostly silent, and when he says anything at all, it's less like the words of a revered teacher and more like the outbursts of an aging teen heartthrob whose fanbase has started to get a little too entitled to his personal space.

He doesn't become a person, within the narrative, until Gethsemane— until all that external validation and adoration is stripped away, leaving only an interior perspective that we haven't seen until now. The outbursts that seemed egocentric and shallow before suddenly seem symptomatic of knowing one's fate and being unable to do shit about it.

I'm not Christian anymore, but I see a lot of parallels— probably intentional ones— to how the church I grew up in utterly refused to assign Jesus any kind of human emotion or interiority, even while harping on and on about how He Sacrificed For Us™™™. He was always pictured as enduring great physical suffering, without any emotional suffering at all— no abandonment, no resentment of his purpose, just calm contentment and knowledge that all was going according to plan. Which I understand, in a way. Depicting Jesus as being angry at God would be a slippery slope to 15-16 year old me feeling like I was allowed to be angry at God, and we can't have that. 🙃

#jesus chris superstar #i think this might also be why the story of the signless resonated so hard with me when i read homestuck #because he very much did tell everyone who put him in irons just how angry he was that it had gotten to that point #i think it filled a void that newly ex christian sparrow needed filled #but didn't know they needed filled #anyhoo i love it when people are symbols and symbols turn out to at the end of it all still be people

[sparrowsupportgroup]

love & crafts | 1383 words

ais/reader

notes: gn!reader, the unnamed mc. Happy birthday Ais!

The Seaspring was so beautiful despite its terrible power, sparkling so bright like the stained glass windows that resided in the remote temple where you were raised, violently red yet serene. If you were the naïve fool that everyone thought you were, you would’ve jumped in without a care in the world, you would’ve done anything, anything, to cleanse yourself of the twisting, sickening feeling that’s plaguing your stomach. But instead, you sit on a well-worn cushion on the wooden deck of the Seaspring, anxiously gripping onto a teacup as if it was a lifeline, refusing to look directly at a certain smirking, infuriating, beautiful demon man that sat across from you.

“You look tense, sparrow.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“You’re gonna break my teacup. Not fine.”

You blink owlishly at Ais, before relaxing your death grip on the rather frail cup. You avert your eyes away from him, not only out of embarrassment but also to avoid relishing in the gentle quirk of Ais’s lips, to avoid openly marveling at the way his crimson eyes crinkle at the corners when he’s filled with genuine mirth, to avoid confronting the strange fact that he made you feel….things. Good things.

You nibble on your lips, desperately wishing you had the charming courage of Leander or even the sleazy bravado of Vere to make this situation somewhat easier on your antsy nerves. “….I have a gift. For you.”

“Hm, what was that, sparrow?” Ais canted his head in your direction with concentration, as if he couldn’t hear what you said, but even without looking at him, you could just sense the heavy smugness that radiated off his entire being. Of course, he heard what you said. With those (frustratingly adorable) pointy ears of his, Ais could hear you sneeze in your room at The Wet Wick.

Your meekness quickly burns away to irritation. Ais always knew how to get a rise out of you, after all. “I SAID,” you spit, your bandaged hands springing towards the messenger bag resting by your side, angrily digging through its contents, “I have a gift for you!”

You hastily yank the object of your current distress out of the bag, ready to toss the damned thing at his horned head, but you freeze. Anxiety was seeping into your veins again and you quickly huddled Ais’s present close to your chest as if it could protect you from the emotional devastation of his inevitable rejection.

This time it was Ais’s turn to blink at you, before raising an eyebrow in cool intrigue. “A gift.”

“Yes,” you lowered your eyes to stare at the shimmering dark liquid of your teacup, “F-for your birthday.” Your voice lost all of its previous heat; now it was nothing more than a soft, fragile feather floating on the surface of the Seaspring. Ais didn’t say anything at first; realistically, he might’ve been silent for a couple of seconds, but to your anxiety-induced brain, his silence could’ve stretched for hours upon hours.

Then, in that low, commanding voice of his that you have come to both love and loathe, Ais said, “Give it to me.”

But you just held onto his present tighter, excuses spilling from your mouth like water, “You won’t even like it-”

“Please.”

Please. Words died in your throat immediately. You stared at Ais in startled awe, your eyes drinking in every inch of his face. The once fearsome, sharpened angles of his countenance that could and would happily slice someone open were soft, raw, almost demure. Please. Ais hardly ever said that word. But he said it to you, of all people; he said it to you…so kindly. So tenderly.

And one of his hands, so large and calloused, so scarred from the violence he had committed and endured over the years before you even entered his life, was stretched out, palm upward. A gentle pleasantry. A silent plea. A hopeful prayer. “Please,” he whispered, and your resolve instantly crumpled.

You felt like crying.

You gingerly placed the shoddily-wrapped gift in his awaiting palm. Ais took it from you and began to unwrap it, almost reverently, and oh Allmother, you could hear your heartbeat in your eardrums.

Once the last of the wrapping fell away, now a pile of red scraps gathered around his forgotten teacup, Ais just stared at the gift you were too ashamed to give him; an amigurumi version of his beloved Soulless pet Princess, in all her many-tendriled, multiple red-eyed glory.

Your hands needed something to fidget with, so you reached for your teacup and downed its contents in one graceless gulp. But your mouth felt so dry still; it felt so dry that you considered drinking from the blood-red waters of the Seaspring, loss of sanity be damned.

But instead, you did what you do best; you rambled to the point of tears.

“I heard Leander say today was your birthday,” you rush out, your words tripping over themselves, “and so I decided to crochet you a gift because birthdays are made for gifts and you deserve a gift and you love Princess so much and I’m sorry if you don’t like it, I really am-”

“….Thank you, sparrow. Thank you.”

Ais looked at you so warmly that you’re surprised you didn’t melt right on the spot. “I’ll protect it with my life,” he said, his voice still a tender yet strong murmur, and if you didn’t have any dignity left, you’d launch yourself over his tea kettle and teacups and hold onto him and never, ever let him go.

But those fantasies were going to remain as fantasies today. You smile at Ais shyly, “...I’m really glad you like it.”

Ais hummed appreciatively and placed the Princess amigurumi onto his lap. For the next couple of minutes, the two of you sat in comfortable, blissful silence.

Until Ais flashed a familiar mischievous, fanged grin in your direction. Your heart started to race all over again. Oh, Allmother.

“You know, this gift was the least you could do, after what you did to me,” Ais said, his eyes twinkling with dark joy. You blink rapidly, squinting your eyes at him in confusion. “Wh-what I did to you? What are you even talking about?”

As if showing off his most prized possession, Ais proudly flaunted his other hand to you, and a hot, mortified feeling quickly devoured any inkling of happiness that had made your heart sing previously.

It was the nasty bitemark that you blessed him with that one muggy night in the alleyway after he brutalized the roughneck that shoved you. You still felt ashamed that you let yourself lose control of your baser instincts like some type of hungry savage, so in your horrified shock, you dropped the teacup you were holding and watched as it splintered into a thousand glittering pieces upon the deck of the Seaspring.

Your mouth opened and closed like a dying fish; how you wish you could die right now, either by your hand or by Ais’s. Panicked, you began to gather the shards in shaking hands, apologizing profusely. “Oh Allmother, I’m so sorry, Ais, I didn’t mean-”

The sound of Ais’s hearty chuckles stopped you dead in your tracks. You tentatively glance upwards, and to both your amazement and relief, Ais was laughing. Ais was smiling. Ais was happy.

And your heart soared.

Ais grinned at you, mirth crinkling the corner of his eyes in the very manner you cherished so much. “A gift and a show for my birthday. Thanks again, sparrow.”

Outwardly, you rolled your eyes in exasperation, but inside you could’ve cried tears of real joy. “I’m so glad my misery makes you happy, you bastard.”

Ais was still chuckling when he came over to assist you in cleaning up the mess you made. “It does.”

Deftly, Ais collected the shards without nary a nick on his fingers. When that was done, he sat next to you, looking at you so warmly you just basked in his gaze for a little while.

Until he dared to open his mouth again.

“Maybe for my next birthday, you could get me some new teacups, hm?”

“....I hate you so much.”

Ais smiled at you tenderly. “I know.”

#AIS DAY #sparrow stories #touchstarved game #HAPPY BIRTHDAY AIS!!!!! LOVE YOU #ais/reader

[ancalimearts]

It is looking on in horror as your protective shell is peeled away as effortlessly as string cheese, revealing the delicate soft tissue of trauma and insecurities within. Yes, mental illness was vivisection - and suicide much the same, but with death fully realized, cadaverous and chemically hardened. You are flayed and pinned, and at the mercy of a med student's errant scissors, but at least you are dead.

A little ol' art project I did of my oc, Elliot, as he struggles with mental illness during his med school days. Enjoy!! This was very cathartic for me.

#elliot sparrow #my ocs #space story

[spotsupstuff]

Aughaug Sparrows is very pretty.

Euros VERY much agrees. tho he's really not doing her any favors by yanking her head towards him outta nowhere While she's eating too. let a woman eat her instant noodles, man, she fuckin loves 'em

here have some bonus doodles i ran off to sketch out while workin on ur ask

#Spot says stuff #rain world #rw #oc tag #imma start throwin my things more into the main tag i put too much time into this stuff to Not to i think #oc: caper of euros #oc: three sparrows #its funny- sparrows actually wasnt originally meant to do that much. the doodle of her on euros intro page? i just quickly scribbled that- #-down without much thought. her name? hard bullshitin on my part. but now... hmmmm.... with every doodle i get more n more attached. Fuck. #THERES LIKE. THREE BIG STORIES WITH THESE FUCKS. -shakes them- CAN WE CALM DOWN NOT EVERY SINGLE ONE OF U NEEDS A PERSONAL TALE #Zephyr; Fish and his gang; Euros/Sparrows... fucks sake man..

[thisisntreaver]

Thinking once more about the chain of events of fable and how if William had been able to destroy his mask Jack wouldn't have attacked Oakvale and the hero of oakvale and Theresa could have had normal lives. Theresa never would have butted in Lucien could have had a chance to grieve healthily and he wouldn't have killed Rose and Sparrow wouldn't have spent their entire early life on a quest for vengeance that wouldn't sooth the hurt. The darkness would never have entered Albion and Logan and the HOBW would never be pit against each other. And if none of that had happened Gabriel would have just been able to live his life.

Which is a really long winded way to say this is all Jack fault

#fable #fable 2 #fable 3 #fable the journey #I may make a longerpost on itbut legitimately everything is connected and it has me INSANE #fable theresa #sparrow #fable rose #hero of bower lake #hero of brightwall #hero of oakvale #Gabriel #logan of albion #lucien Fairfax #listen I give Theresa a lot of grief but ultimately #her path is due to how she was harmed as a child #like i firmly believe most of our heros *still* would have been heros #but they could have hd much different stories #jack of blades #my enemy

[llumimoon]

The Talk (page 15) END

Doodler AU post || start || previous || bonus

And that’s a wrap! :D Thank you guys SO MUCH for reading, genuinely I appreciate it soso much that so many of you liked my lil comic <3 If you’re wondering, Dot’s story isn’t over, in a lot of ways this comic was meant to be just the beginning!

Dialogue under the cut!

Sparrow:You really liked that hot chocolate, huh?

Sparrow: Let’s get you another one, okay?

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads s2 #dungeons and daddies season 2 #sparrow oak #the doodler #lark oak #mercedes oak garcia #henry oak #doodle dot au #cal draws #thetalkcomic #OUGGHH I CANT BELIEVE ITS OVER !! #I’m very proud of myself for finishing this and keeping a schedule <333 #i hope you guys enjoyed the story :] #I’ll probably release the bonus page sometime this weekend #it’s some dialogue between Sparrow and Lark that I think is v interesting #but I couldn’t find a way to stick it in the comic cause I already had gotten too far by the time I thought it up #BTW. the hot chocolate is a Henry and Mercedes recipe #and yes the hot chocolate Dot drank was the same recipe #I loved drawinf the oak family 🥺 they r soooo important to me <3 #OH and I’m gonna release a poll abt the next story bit later also

[leafatlaw]

I miss the prime defenders os much i need to awjfs;lgt"hkDH VJ;KBAJK;GGHJKBD;kjhhvfhdblng;zkjbvhxdkfdfjdzbnljzgdklnhdfvnsngrjxfdjkhjcfjkcdxfhjcdfhjd

#sparrow speaks #<- voice of a guy who hasnt finsihed whatching s2 #i just dkgjkdfjglfdkj;dfkjgkdjfl;fdjk;gjf;ldflkgdjkl;ffjlkdkjfd\ #jdgdjghgfkjgdnxfvjgrohuhtgs #i miss them so much #something about the silly coming of age superhero story has entranced me #for the better part of a year now