{ feu de ma vie.

[cantetis-archive]

the deal is the k fandom feels super dead and its not as fun anymore so im probs not gonna be back unless by some miracle when season 2 comes out we get a lot more lively. thats all. u probs wont see me around anyhow i go by a lot of aliases and i dont rlly wanna give out my blogs anymore

[amourites-blog]

new curfew. kids u gotta be in bed with lights out at.............. hm, let’s say...... 5pm.

[amourites-blog]

why do u all have to reply so quickly it makes me hurt inside

[mamodos]

[recorder]

you got smoke coming out of your lungs –charcoal black, like a sickness, like ashes in dim lighting. you’re a walking sun, man-shaped and man-made. you got fire blazing in your bloodstream like it’s nothing. you bleed and bruise like everyone else hands calloused by hard work, by the fine strings of the violin, by the sweep and slide over piano keys. you mourn, and the grief cuts another knife into you nobody sees it, they don’t have to –you took that knife and cut that same old grief down. And you burn– (probably the alcohol, it shapes you from the young-old weary bones to the taste of French and German on your tongue) –because you were born and moulded by fire by the same heat in his right hand by the same phoenix fire of his successor. you’re a devil of a different sort All charm and wit and –a kindness, oddly enough, that sears. you got a long time it’s plenty enough.

s.k.g. (aequore)

[amourites-blog]

( takehiko. )

          The traceuse stayed staring at the ground while he gave the lecture she’d attempted to skirt out of having, but obviously to no avail. It wold have been a lie to say that one hundred percent of her attention was on the bartender’s words, though. She heard everything he said and his point registered in her mind, yet most of her attention was fixated upon the pain in her nose beginning to increase.

          ( With the flow of adrenaline diminishing, there was nothing to block out the pain that was soon going to hit her full-throttle. )

          “I think you mean provin’ your womanliness.”

          She reached forward for the bag the bartender now held out to her. With the movement of her hand, the paper towel slipped, displaying a significant blotch of the blood which continued to stream from her face. In a quick motion, she pressed ( gently ) the ice pack against her nose, leaning forward as she held a new paper towel beneath it.

          A sound of discomfort could be heard before she spoke again.

          “ ‘m not a fan of hospitals. Spent a couple days in one last year. Too antiseptic-smelling. Too much medicine. If it’s broke can’t it just be wrenched back into place?” The traceuse looked up through her bangs as much as she could with her head tilted forward. “…I don’t wanna roll over and just take someone callin’ me a dyke. But I did. ‘s the racist remarks against me I won’t tolerate, Kusanagi-san.”

his brows stitched together, & his lips pressed tightly together in an expression of slight confusion ( but more likely: an expression of silent disapproval, which he would not verbally explain but would instead hint at subtly through the way he looked ). he knew by now that scolding wouldn’t achieve anything --- he’d never met a more stubborn group of people than the ones in homra. mikoto had been bad enough he thought, but now he found that the king’s disciples acted in the same exact --- frustrating --- way as their leader.

however, just because his scolding would not yield to a solution, it didn’t mean izumo would stop. because, as repetitive as the complaints were, izumo made his point well-known. the homra kids would not forget the consequences; if they stepped out of line, they would receive a strict talking-to, one which they’d doubtlessly heard five times or more previously.

      ❛ i don’t care if you’re ‘ not a fan of hospitals ’. it’d be stupid not to go, even if you don’t like ‘em. they’re meant to treat sick an’ injured people --- their purpose is to help people like you fix your nose if it’s broken. ❜

his fist clenched tightly against the wooden top of the bar. if takehiko continued to make excuses he might just drag her to the hospital himself; it was that kind of insolence he didn’t like to tolerate. he didn’t particularly like doctors, but it was their duty to make you better, wasn’t it? it was better to see them than to not, & if her nose was indeed broken, trying to ‘ wrench it back in ’, as she said, would definitely not be safe.

      ❛ --- how many of ‘em were there? i thought our last incident with a gang made anybody thinkin’ about rivaling us back down for a little while. thought our message hit pretty hard last time... ❜

[amourites-blog]

🎵

send me a 🎵 & i will put my music player on shuffle, & take a line of the first song that comes up and post it as a starter!

    ❛ i have dreams about the days… ❜ the days when everything seemed alright, no more of this self-loathing, pitiful, sorrow-filled days in recent times. izumo still wasn’t adapting well; he was hurting inside, & hurting very badly, but he wouldn’t admit it nor would he show it. he’d practically buried himself alive trying to cope with the grief he felt but could not dispel.

[amourites-blog]

( anna. )

His smile does little to reassure her. Surely Izumo knew by now, that Anna was the last person anyone would be able to successfully lie to. Her brow furrows, lines creasing at her forehead as her lips purse.

“….Your smile isn’t the same anymore, Izumo. You need to rest as much as I do.”

Pausing in thought, she felt that familiar stab of guilt in her chest. Her state of health since her coronation had hardly been beneficial to his own state of mind, was there not something she could do for him? Gently tugging the bartender’s sleeve, she stared at him.

“….Izumo, can you sleep beside me? I promise, I’ll sleep if you do.”

      ❛ smilin’ has been a lot of work recently, anna. ❜ he said hesitantly, eyes lowered. he knew he couldn’t hide anything from anna, even if he wanted to. it hurt him to imagine that he could ever lie to her --- she was his king, but more importantly someone he loved & wanted to protect no matter what that might cost him. she deserved to know the truth; she deserved to know his feelings.

     ❛ but --- if it’ll get you to go to bed, then i’ll nap for a little while. i can’t stay forever, ‘cause i might have customers, but... since you’re makin’ me feel guilty if i say no, i’ll sleep next to you. ❜ he knew he couldn’t sleep on the couch, though; it was too uncomfortable, & he didn’t particularly like looking at it, after everything that had happened recently. he’d rather just go upstairs where they kept an old mattress & covers that izumo hadn’t made the effort to wash yet. maybe, also, he thought, anna might be able to sleep better if she could potentially still feel mikoto. he wasn’t sure if that was how it worked... it was worth a try, regardless. 

he tilted his head to the stairs to say that he’d rather take a nap up there than on the couch in the bar, & held out his hand for anna. he’d escort her there, like a gentleman would for a lady.

[amourites-blog]

( seri. )

                      ❝   I am not trying to avoid a thing. And you are                               nowhere near to deserve one.    ❞

    In a matter of seconds, she may have made her hands bleed if she had gripped any  tighter onto the glass that was set before her. This was to be expected of him , is it?  Just that her palm had the urge to slap the man to knock the latter out of his nonsense. But then there is no use getting into violence, it would just make her seem guilty, to which she is not. 

           ❝  Stop that, you’re being annoying . And– didn’t I tell you that the        crime rates had increased so badly that I don’t even have a free time?  ❞

   Follow that with a heavy frown before taking in the special cocktail set in front of her. She might as well take advantage of the situation and do vent her frustrations rather in her own manner. Truth is that a part of it was her not being able to get her drink, though her King’s condition would be the dominant one of the two. Nevertheless, this man will continue with his petty talk which is not even close to alleviating her worries for her Captain’s Weissman level at all. 

he chuckled softly --- once an ice woman, always an ice woman. seri didn’t seem to have much fun anymore, but then again, izumo couldn’t really remember any occasion where she had been relaxed enough with him to seem like she was having fun. he’d been able to adapt to her callous exterior, though, so now he didn’t seem to think much of it other than when she scolded him, it was amusing.

       ❛ when do you not find me annoyin’ seri-chan? i was pretty sure you’d appreciate the effort i put in our conversations, tryin’ not to let ‘em get too gloomy. ❜

well, it seemed as if that effort was made in vain. izumo had heard about the crime rates, & it only made sense that they skyrocket. the red clan, while irritating to the blues, had indeed proved to be a helpful nuisance. the kids that couldn’t control themselves often got into fights with rival gangs, kept them busy & distracted. but ever since the incident on the island, & mikoto’s death, the clan was stuck in too much grief to cause any trouble at all --- they’d simply faded away.

      ❛ i am glad you stopped by, though. i’ve heard enough about scepter 4′s problems right now; y’know, you deserve a break. you’ve probably been workin’ your hardest. drinks are on the house, seri-chan. please enjoy ‘em --- i’ll keep ‘em comin’ if you jus’ ask. ❜

[amourites-blog]

( mikoto. )

        – - ‘Pleasures’ was almost certainly the wrong word for anything anyone would consider having grown up with Mikoto to be. A lazy and despondent sort of man; perhaps the best that could be said of him was that he was incredibly low-maintenance. So long as he had food occasionally and somewhere to sleep - be it comfy or not, for he could sleep anywhere, really - then he was fairly content with his life.

Being a king did not suit him, and he knew that very well. Tatara and Izumo knew it too, though Tatara may occasionally try to claim the contrary. Simply put, leadership was not something Mikoto was cut out for in any way. Honestly he found his clansmen to be something of an annoyance at times - it was not that he didn’t like them, merely that they seemed to look up to him. He didn’t understand that at all. Tatara had once said something about ‘charisma’, yet how could Mikoto possibly have any of that? All he did was sleep most days, and occasionally bust up dangerous gangs if he felt so inclined.

So he would not grow irate with such quips of Izumo’s, knowing full well that such a thing was true. If it were up to him, he would much rather ditch these powers of his and live his life the way he’d always assumed he would: quietly.

     “why don’t you send ‘em on an errand run or something?”

in other words: not my problem.

it was a concrete fact that mikoto made a poor king. while he might’ve looked heroic ( like the image totsuka always seemed to describe --- mikoto in a long red cape with a fur collar, a sword in his hand, a grand gold crown atop his head, & his right foot ground hard into the spine of whatever enemy he had just conquered ), mikoto truly didn’t have the personality of a leader. every school project they did together, izumo had to lead; & it seemed like currently nothing had changed, izumo still managed to act as the guardian of everyone in homra.

but reality was unchangeable --- at least for mikoto, being a king was not something he could necessarily ‘ escape ’ unless he took extreme measures. 

izumo knew he couldn’t teach mikoto how to be a good leader, or a king. pursuits like that were a waste of time. but, regardless of him knowing he was unable to force mikoto to become responsible --- in some sort of way or another --- he still found himself wanting to point out that responsibility was important. at least he could still joke about it & make his point.

        ❛ you know i can’t get ‘em under control like you can, mikoto — snap your fingers an’ they come runnin’, practically. plus... y’know, what kind of king won’t let his dogs out to go play an’ release some of that energy? ❜

[amourites-blog]

fuck me up ( fuck me up inside ). screw yata taking naps with anna. it’s izumo napping with anna that rlly matters.

[roleplaymemesblog]

Send me a 🎵 and I will...

Put my iPod/music player on shuffle, and take the first line of the first song that comes up and post it as a starter!

[amourites-blog]

( anna. )

Anna knew that the boys were quietly waiting for some cue to get back into what had once been the s w i n g of homra . She was well aware of them and their awkward silence from time to time , but she made it something of a goal of her own personal desire to get them all to their natural selves again . The selves that would not be stable or accept something less than what they had before the fall of their previous king .  Their new king was still there though , and she spent quite a bit of time around as she seemed to prefer to remain where she remembered she was safe … where nothing bad had happened to her and hurt her . She loved this single place … but even to her , she did regret how dim the activity was .  Oh , but the word of her right hand man made her raise her head once more , a lull to the motion of her head to indicate she was inquiring what kind of plants he was thinking about .      “    … ? What kind of plants ? Bonsai … ?    “

izumo often blamed himself for this abrupt change in mood. while he had always been responsible, he hadn’t tried reasoning with mikoto when the man wanted to exact revenge upon totsuka’s killer. he hadn’t attempted to stop mikoto --- his friend, his king --- from potentially risking his own life for the sake of ‘ getting even ’. & he stood by, separated by an emotional barrier of his own creation ( he didn’t want to get involved even then, unsure of what might unfold in the future ), as his king’s sword dissipated & his death had hit the clan.

he wasn’t there for support; he’d left. & he felt extremely displeased with himself for abandoning his clan in perhaps the time they most needed him. they didn’t trust him --- he was past redemption, for always avoiding conflicts & problems the way he did.

truly, he was a let-down to his clan, his best friends, his new king. it must’ve been difficult for her to trust him, being that he had also abandoned her after mikoto’s death, & allowed her to fall victim to the green clan’s plans.

        ❛ — bonsai... that reminds me too much of that guy. he had that interest in bonsai for quite a while... i was thinkin’ somethin’ more along the lines of flowers --- or a vine type. i dunno, honestly. jus’ somethin’ happy. ❜

[amourites-blog]

( ??? )

                 &&;; “Oh no, I doubt I could even accept that.” She uttered in a quiet tone, her head tilting to look back at the male whom had been so kind to her, of all people in the world. “Really, it isn’t as though they’re heavy at all, so it’s fine.” With that said and done; she stepped out of the way for him to enter the small shop, gaze glancing down to the produce in bags - She always brought far too much food to eat alone.

                "A-Again, thank you very much.” With final words, she shuffled over towards where the tea was kept; diving back into her own little world, she scanned the names (this shop had everything from white peoney tea, rose petal and traditional green tea.) her head tilted upwards so very carefully, in the back of her mind she was well aware that the gentleman was still in the store - Oh how she disliked being extra-aware of people like him.

                Opposite to him, she had a very specific palette, proven as she spotted the tea she was in need of; vanilla black-creme; a few shelves up and higher than her head, it caused a small sigh from her, placing the bags down beside her for but a moment, she reached high for the tin - So, close, so close! Just a little more and she could reach it—

he smiled gently again & allowed the woman to enter before him, closing the door as he had stepped both feet inside. a quick scan around the place told him that what he wanted would be in the far corners of the room ( it was an old advertising technique, to put the expensive, organic, otherwise most appealing goods at the front of the store so that when customers entered they would immediately be distracted with the more costly options ).

he didn’t mind that kind of advertising, of course, but being a bartender for quite some time, he’d caught onto the idea of putting more exotic liquors in clearer view than the cheap brand ones, & was guilty of doing the same exact thing. so, he couldn’t necessarily judge.

regardless, it was not difficult to find what he wanted --- any old box, so long as it was labeled as cheap & contained a lot of bags --- & within a few mere glances at the shelves, he’d picked out what he wanted & was prepared to check out.

he didn’t want to invade unnecessarily again, especially if his attempts to help might’ve appeared relentless & unwelcome, but he had seen the same girl struggling with reaching something on a high shelf, & he wasn’t sure whether to offer assistance or not. he could reach it, being as tall as he was, but he was hesitant simply because he didn’t know whether she would want him to help again. maybe asking would be the best decision, he thought?

         ❛ erm, d’you need help with that? i could probably reach it... ❜

[sublimuse]

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[some-velvet-mornings]

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[amourites-blog]

sclacies replied to your post:

i quote but let us replace gentleman to ladykiller : ‘you are not the ladykiller you think you are.. kusanagi’ courtesy of a drunk seri – oops

it’s quite obvious that he’s a ladykiller, though. i mean, when you first see him --- a man past his prime teenage years, but still in an awkward transition to trying to become a classy gentleman in his 30s, who wears shades inside & is more than likely dragging seven or eight rowdy teenage kids who look like they’re part of a gang behind them --- immediately the word that comes to mind is: LADYKILLER. in large neon-lit letters, of course.