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Sweet Dreams by award_staralternate_emailKyosai-Bun

posted last year, edited last year

Originally uploaded Oct 12, 2020

Every night over at Richard's house ends with Jac recieving gentle warmth from the comfort of her giant best friend. Whenever she is cold, frightened, lonesome, or just wants to have a peaceful night's rest, Jac can always count on him or Bo to soothe her and keep her safe.
Only trouble with Bo is that he tends to toss and turn in his sleep 😅
Once again this proves that the big bad Wile giant is in reality a softie at heart.

Richard and Jac are both my original characters
Please do not steal or repost

bed cute fingerdrawing giant gianttiny gt ibispaintdrawing jac myart myocs ocs richard sizedifference sleeping soft speeddrawing tiny

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Memoirs of the Lonely Phoenix by @Kyosai-Bun

Memoirs of the Lonely Phoenix I have risen once and I have fallen twice. I was the first of many, a progenitor, a prophet according to some. I was told I could set my foot atop the heads of kings, to unleash a storm upon the metal kingdoms and bring forth a lush overgrowth of forests. Such lofty goals were alluring, but it was not a path I chose to follow. Not once did I step forth however, for I was struck down before I was given a chance to soar. When the flock went towards their palaces in heaven, I was left clinging to my shell. Hunters held a bounty for my yolk, a cup forever refilled as a precious source of eternal youth. I was traded and shuffled in the back alleys of lowly passages, my treasured form hounded by a pack of hungry wolves. I yearned to see the bright sunshine of the noonday, yet in darkness I remained. Soon the ruffles ceased, as did the pain. The lives that I saved no longer wanted me, I was rescued or perhaps abandoned somewhere. It was cold and by that point, I was too tired to want to put in the effort to be reborn again. I wanted nothing more than to be rid of everything, but I could not merely cease. So instead I slept. For how long, I cannot tell from within these confines. It must have been eons, for my sense of self began to lay dormant. It was time for another to take my position as a wanderer of this world. No matter, I enjoy sleeping, continuing it only seems natural. Many times have I risen and many times I have fallen. The whispers in the corridors of my mind spoke of me being the fourth generation. I heeded the fragmented directions that had been perfected over the ages: to tuck in my wings so I could blend in with humans, to hold my chest up high while keeping my fire at bay. Nothing else mattered, so I was free to roam. Small capsules of history dotted across the land revealed that my prior selves had unfulfilled lives. I set out to do the opposite, a comfortable existence was all that I strived for. The cogs of the tall woodwork clocks were the new talk of the town. It wasn't long ago when the men and giants rode in droves on their carriages, bringing prosperity to this once humble place. And yet I largely kept to myself, speaking to the passing birds when few others bothered to notice. I learned to live with that however, the warm sip of tea on quiet mornings was more than enough to satisfy me. And yet, life always finds a way to grip you into the trenches of something grander, subtle, elegant but profound nonetheless. I met her at a lowly pub, she wore a long, satin gown with a white sash around her waist. She smiled and I grinned back. I was quite unremarkable, yet for some puzzling reason she took a liking to me. We continued to talk, and continued to meet for many an hour and in numerous places. And with every encounter our hearts danced a little bit more. I soon fell into her warm embrace, my lips locked with hers. She looked into my eyes one radiant dawn and asked if she could stay by my side forever. I said yes without a shadow of a doubt. At that moment, I wished for a power only mortals possessed. Such a union was set up for heartbreak, but my heart knew not then nor did it care. I loved her. Even if only for a fleeting moment I wanted nothing more than to spend as much of my life as I could with her. We sang the songs of the air and flame, and trotted through countless moonlit nights. She shared her love of exploration that brought within me a sense of wonder for the wider world, and on almost every work day we would pocket a quarter or two to fulfill our dreams of travel later in life. We nearly reached the top and bottom of the world, we sailed the vast seas and walked under groves of cherry blossoms. Every cherished moment with her, no matter how great or insignificant, made my life that much more full, my fire kindled brightly. And in our twilight years we continued to stroll in harmony. Even when her legs gave way, and her voice grew weak, we continued to waltz and sing duets in silence. Age meant nothing to me, but with enchantment I matched her face, her arms, her labored breath. Even as we grew old together, we never drifted apart. My wife, my linked partner, my better half, my dearest friend. I offered her my blood, and she knew very well who I was and what I was, but the thought of hurting me even for a single life pained her. And in her own words, she wanted to travel the vastness of the night to meet the constellations she admired in all of her years up close. And on the following dusk, when the deep orange of the sunset fell over her time worn cheeks, she left. Gods I wish I could have followed her. My heart became numb. This is the life immortals must tread, countless people gone in what seemed like mere minutes to us. I could not bear her loss, nor could I fathom going through this again with anyone else. How mortals put up with it is beyond comprehension, perhaps a shorter lifespan serves as a release to handle such pain. When am I allowed to rest? Nothing brings me joy anymore, to fill out this empty husk left behind seemed like a fool's errand. For many more grueling years I wallowed in this thought, I did not wish to connect with anyone, anything. Until at last, my soul slipped into dormancy. Sleep, at the very least, gave me the closure I wanted. Perhaps we will even cross paths once more in my dreams, I think my chained soul can reach the stars if only for a moment. I've died many times, though I picked myself back up at every chance I got. Seventh generation here, name's not important. When you're like me and you've carved a path for yourself in these streets, you learn to gain a thick skin and a knack for not fearing what's right in front of ya. And this was long before I began to listen to the voices in my head yapping about me being some kind of deathless god. After that revelation you couldn't get me to stand still. The guys before me must have had it good, yet they had let the world walk over them. As for me, I swung back with piping-hot cinders, and I wasn't afraid to bite. Living a life vexing the devils, to retreat and do it all over again. It was an endless game, one that scratched an inch that few other jobs could satisfy. Bounties and heists were all the same to me, I cared not for any moral high ground. As word spread of my successful hunts, all matters of men and Wile came pleading on their knees. But I only bent towards the most rewarding gigs, nothing else was worth my time. Save for… kids who needed help finding their mothers, or nice old ladies who had their sole treasure stolen, or people who stopped to offer kindness knowing damn well who I was without expecting anything in return. I couldn't say no to them, even providing my services free of charge in these cases. While I lived in infamy by and large, some within the wider community spoke kindly of me and what I've done for them. It wasn't much, but it felt good. So long as I avoided the eyes of hogs and white suited gents, there was little that stood against me. And yet thanks to them, I couldn't dawdle in any one place for too long. I sometimes had thoughts of what it would be like to settle down with a burly, yet tender man who wanted to stick around with whatever I was. I guess it will remain a pipe dream, such a high stakes profession demanded I be on the move. And I still loved and rolled with it in spite of it all. No one stood a chance against me, yet I applauded their repeated efforts. The thugs would soon be creative with their attempts however, for they caught wind that I wasn't immune to pain. My job steadily became much harder, that alone made me hesitant to press on. The days began to blur, how long has it been since the thrills had lost their luster? My passion faded with every new mission, and I couldn't understand why. My hesitation led to my downfall, that I'm most certain of. Had I not tripped and fallen into that explosive, it would have passed through me harmlessly like it normally did. My mind suddenly slipped out of my control, the nails of my soul clung on in desperation. How could this have happened?! I can only become dormant of my own volition, right? Why did I succumb to it then?! I'm not finished yet!!! I screamed at the top of my lungs. Yet what's left of my body uttered not a single sound. As I sunk deeper into the abyss, I reflected on everything, and all that I should have done. There was so much I took for granted, so much I had missed, so many things I fell short of experiencing for myself. I never got to feel warmth up close, nor spend my days on things that actually mattered. I won't truly die, I know that now. But I hope the life that follows won't fall into the same trappings mine had. I'm not ready to become fully dormant yet, I'll show them myself if I have to. I’m the eighth and current generation, and I don't have much to share from the relatively short time I've been here. I hatched scared according to Hayden, seventh gen for clarification. I mean, I don't know how it was for them, but the voices in my head were loud in the beginning, which led to a skewed first impression of the world. Despite all that, I'm enjoying my time here so far. Sure life is not without its headaches, and boy was that ever apparent just a few years back. But I met many cool folks who helped me along the way, and I'm thankful to have them as lifelong friends. I broke the curse of lonely phoenix Wiles it seems, that much I can say. I still have no idea what I want to do with my life, and I'll take as long as I need to figure that out. In the meantime I want to focus on the little things that spark joy in my heart. Like the melon bread that's worth the trip to the other side of town, or the crisp smells of the fireplace on a frigid winter’s night. I met someone who lit up a candle in my chest, the best moments I have so far have been with him. My heart skipped a bit when we held hands for the first time. Here's to many more moments like this. Maybe I'll be a poet like fourth gen, or work hard to make people smile like six did. I want to make seven proud, I know a little flame lights up in my eyes from him still. Wherever I'll wind up, I know I'll be ready. Whether grand things await me, or a simple ordinary life, my only wish is to have cherished moments throughout. And to share it with anyone who cares to join me in this little journey of mine.trophy

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