#aurelia

Zora Mermay Day 3 - Battle Ready

I missed a day and then had to work on commission work, so by the time I got today’s mermay doodle done I was exhausted xD
I’m in the process of changing Aurelia’s armor into a more conch shell look to match her weapon.

Zora Mermay 2022 [Day 2] - Peek

In Aurelia’s backstory she would never have had the chance to even visit a pond (She lived in a hiding place at the bottom of the sea) but this is what my brain came up with and I love it anyway o/
This was a nice calming exercise tbh cause my brain’s been stuck in rumination over a lot of stuff lately and I’ve just been…exhausted.
I hope you guys enjoy o/

feral-ballad:

Alicia Ostriker, from The Imaginary Lover; “In the twenty-fifth year of marriage, it goes on”

Esper Moniker

Decided on a real name for Esper, thus her actual name is Aurelia Scarsi-Rén 

 …still gonna mostly call her Esper doh

floralls:

SudeleyCastleGardensbyLINDSEYRENTON

evelyn-jade:

I made an experiment in drawing analog with the goal to get clear lines for this digital post process, but in the end of day this comes out. *scratches her head*
Edit: Thank you all for the amazing and kind feedback in the last days. I was impressed. ;_;

celestials-angel:

its a starry princess dress

princessdaisy:

casual Zelda + playing with Procreate’s new symmetry feature

grace-hollow-doll:

Photographer: Кирилл Аверьянов

happycottage:

♡ happiness moodboard ♡

sweetd3lights:

  © All rights reserved  by Tanja Brandt

floralls:

Alps, Switzerland   by  zhannakruk

♥     ♥

lovingexotics:

Source:here

moth-ski:

weird dog

I wanted to draw one of those cliche shoujo manga scenes where the protagonist randomly trips and falls right on top of the main love interest in a compromising position. So I did!

Aurelia is my oc and Lamis (the white haired one) belongs to @fumiddition and they are my favorite otp because they have an adorably ridiculous height difference. I said I drew this for her, but really I drew it for both of us. ;3

HQ: [x] [x]

Text version of Martial under the cut.

A house renowned stands in the land of Tartessus
where rich Corduba woos tranquil Baetis,
where fleeces are yellow-pale with native ore,
and living gold o’erlays the Western flock.
In the middle of the house, shadowing all the abode,
stands with dense leafage Caesar’s plane,
which an unconquered Guest’s propitious hand planted,
and which—then but a shoot—began from that hand to grow.
It seems to feel who was its creator and lord;
so green it is, and with its boughs it climbs high heaven.
Ofttimes under this tree sported Fauns flown with wine,
and a late-blown pipe startled the still house;
and, while o’er lonely fields she fled by night from Pan,
oft under these leaves the rustic Dryad nestled hid.
And fragrant has the dwelling been when Lyaeus held revel,
and more luxuriant grown the tree’s shade from spilth of wine,
and the blushing flower has been scattered down from last night’s wreath,
and none could claim his own roses.
O thou dear to the gods! O tree of mighty Caesar!
fear not the steel and sacrilegious fires.
Thou mayst hope thy leafy honours shall endure for ever:
it was not Pompey’s hands set thee there!

* translation by Walter C. A. Ker (1920)

There stands a far-famed house in Spanish land
Where wealthy Corduba loves calm Baetis’ strand,
Where yellow fleeces glow with native gold
And living foil o’erfilms the western fold.
O’ershadowing all the roof with mantle green
Of thickest foliage, Caesar’s plane is seen.
The conquering hand that planted luckily
Charmed the young rod into a lofty tree.
Proud of its lord, his tender nursling fair
Burgeoned and tossed great limbs in upper air.
The tipsy Fauns beneath its shadow played;
Oft their late pipe the silent home dismayed.
At night the Dryad through the country side
Flying from Pan beneath its leaves would hide.
Perfumed by revelling Bacchus all the place
Smelt sweet. His wine-cups swelled the tree apace.
Yesterday’s ruddy leaves all round were thrown,
Relics of chaplets none might call his own.
O happy day, O mighty Caesar’s tree,
Fear not the axe, the hearth’s impiety!
Year after year your honours you’ll renew,
For ‘twas no Pompey’s hand that planted you.

* translation by A. L. Francis and H. F. Tatum (1924)

In far Tartessus stands a house renowned,
Where rich Corduba Baetis woos in peace
And western sheep with living gold are crowned
Whose native ore makes pale the yellow fleece.

Within its midst is mighty Caesar’s plane
Which as a shoot by his own hand was given.
It seems to know from whom its life began;
So green it grows, so high it springs to heaven.

Oft drunken fauns have sported in its shade
And with their piping roused the house to fear,
Oft have its boughs concealed a Dryad maid
Who felt that Pan was in the darkness near.

The scent of Bacchic revels too it knows,
And thick have grown its leaves from spilth of wine,
While from red garlands fell the scattered rose,
And none could say of any bloom—‘ 'Twas mine.’

O dear to heaven, mighty Caesar’s tree,
Fear not the fire, the sacrilegious knife;
It was not Pompey’s hand that planted thee,
Thy honours shall enjoy eternal life.

* translation by J. A. Pott and F. A. Wright (1926)