-- A Way to Burn

-- A Way to Burn RULES & INFO

[moon--wake-blog]

{ All right so with all of that out of the way and the fact that I’m dropping threads on this blog, consider this a plotting call! Just hit that like button (♡ ) and I’ll swoop into your IMs (tomorrow, most likely, it’s 1am and I’m going to bed, hopefully, if not I’ve failed). We don’t have to do any extensive plotting (unless you want to), I just like to get an idea down since I understand most of the muses I have on here are from somewhat obscure series. I’m cool to write starters if you’re nervous about them so no worries, and also a-okay for AUs! If you dislike plotting, I’ll probably post a meme or something down the road! Try to have a muse in mind, but I won’t eat you alive if you don’t, or just want my opinion! } 

[moon--wake-blog]

{ I’m working on re-working/updating this blog again. I’m removing a lot of muses and re-adding a few old ones along with a few newer ones, and I’m getting little info pages up for all of them so you guys have something to work with for everyone. I’m also dropping all threads on this blog. I think part of the reason I was struggling when I returned last time was because I was forcing myself to try to jump back into threads that were super old and keep muses I have no will to write anymore and I just felt really bad for making people wait that long. 

As a note: I know the vast majority of my followers here are from the MXTX fandom, and I have removed all of my MXTX muses (it’s totally cool if you want to unfollow me as a result, but it would be super great if you could soft block me to make life slightly easier). I’ll will likely add a HoB muse back on here in the future. }

[moon--wake-blog]

sozotohakai‌:

Allen had been resting when something bothered Crown Clown, sending the first hint of alertness to his mind. But it was the sudden opening of the door to his chamber that made the young man jolt awake, sitting up in the bed with hands resting palm first on the sheets, as if he had been about to jump out.

His silver eyes flew to the one who entered first however, and the vague thought of now I know where Jin Ling learned that attitude stopped him from further action. Instead, he stared wide eyed, flickering his gaze to spark of power he felt just before the lightning whip appeared.

Allen couldn’t prevent the flinch as he felt the aggressive power, leaning back as his eyes grew guarded when he gazed back up into the man’s eyes. Crown Clown hissed into his mind, wary and unhappy, but like its host, it knew better than to be hostile right now. It had been pure luck that Jin Ling had not seemed wary, so it was not that surprising to face suspicion.

It didn’t mean he liked the feeling, not after that kind of look had been the last things he had known from the Order before his escape.

His brows furrowed as Allen felt himself grow too guarded to speak, deep down knowing it was fear that wanted to creep into his heart. But with how it stirred the Fourteenth, Allen had to push it back, had to concentrate on doing something to calm the situation.

Faint confusion flashed into his eyes at the mention of Sects, but otherwise his emotions did not display. He had not moved his gaze either, his guarded eyes unafraid to look right back at his interrogator. However, he forced his body to relax, forced his fingers to unclench the sheets, forced his heart to slow down.

“I have no idea who the Yiling Patriarch is, nor do I even know of Sects.” Allen’s voice finally worked, though soft. “I don’t even know where I am. I was in a rush when I transported myself, but I can tell it threw me far away from where I was, since my energy was almost fully drained. I guess my intent to go as far away as possible got taken too well.”

Allen breathed out slowly, not quite a sigh, and then he smiled, polite but still guarded. “My name’s Allen Walker, I come from England. I’m a travelling performer.” He would stop it there, but with how the man knew of his fighting abilities… “I was trained to fight however, as I am able to wield a weapon that chose me as its user. I’ve never seen a beast like your nephew and I fought before, I was lucky that it was full of darkness, as my weapon is most effective against those kind of beings.”

     Zidian’s violent, purple light buzzed through the dim room; bathing Jiang Cheng’s features in a soft, violet hue that cast deep shadows upon the angry wrinkles marring his forehead and how his dark brows were knitted together, forming a deep valley between his sharp eyes. Never once did his gaze leave the white-haired stranger’s face - always watching him; always judging him, as if he was looking for an excuse to strike - an excuse to destroy him where he sat and finish off what the unholy beast Jin Ling had beaten had started earlier. His nephew was a foolish child. He trusted too easily, and that trust was too often misplaced. As he believed it was now, and he would bring ruin upon this man before he could lay a finger on Jin Ling. 

      But there’s no trace of a lie in anything he does - not in the words he speaks or the expressions he makes. There’s something off about him. Something that doesn’t seem human - that should be reason enough to unleash Zidian on this stranger and prove there’s something lurking within his flesh that shouldn’t be there. Yet, he doesn’t. Much as he wishes to. If only because his claims that he simply doesn’t know what he’s referring to have caught him off guard. When Jin Ling had first described this man to him, he had thought him strange and suspicious, and he stood by that even now, but there was nothing about him that was hostile nor did he reek of malice and decay and destruction as the Yiling Patriarch had and should.   

        His talk of teleportation makes little sense, but he supposes a powerful enough sword might heed the command of a disoriented master and take him far from whatever danger might befall him. But his words imply there’s something so much more to it than that. He claims not to know of sects or cultivation as a whole, based upon what Jin Ling has already told him, yet, just as his nephew had told him, he seems to have some knowledge in the matter - or, at least, something that resembles it. England. The name is unfamiliar to him and sounds foreign, just as this man himself looks.           

      “You’re not lying, but you are withholding information from me. I don’t trust you. Watch what you say, or I will make your next words your last.” But this talk of a weapon that is built to destroy things that possess darkness within them does catch his interest. In a way, it sounds like Zidian itself, though perhaps less specialized. A weapon that was most effective against the evils of this world, and its only wielder has landed her - as if he has been gifted to him, and if he values his life and his place he’ll mind his manners. 

        “I couldn’t care less about where you come from or who you claim to be, I’m interested in that weapon of yours.” He holds nothing back; his voice blunt and hostile. “You say its most effective against beings full of darkness. Is it capable of locating those beings, and do its powers work against humans who have been possessed by darkness?” He will find him. He will find that man the moment his soul renters this world, and he will shove him back into his grave. They can claim what they like - with a death like that, his soul will never come back; it must have been torn to shreds. But he’s never been so weak. There’s never been a man more of a pain in the ass than he had been. He will come back. And he will destroy him for eternity when he does. 

[moon--wake-blog]

@yonipponichi​ || Plotted Starter

     The bitter cold of autumn was just beginning to set in, paving the dirt road with crisp leaves and dried up mud; the sheen of ice gluing what remained of the grass to the earth in the early morning chill. While this path itself was never frequently traveled, not when there were trains that cut through Hokkaido and tours that strayed away from the more treacherous paths for the safety of its members. They remember, though, back when this road had once been full of visitors - young and old, that all whispers a silent prayer to them for safe passage as they tugged on their boots and gathered their children to their bodies to keep them warm as they made the trek into the livelier parts of the region. It’s been decades - no, likely longer, since those days but they’ve lost track of the time. It all seems to blur together these days and they no longer truly recall how long its been since they’ve taken up this post. But they don’t mind the quiet; they enjoy it, in fact. The company of the few birds nesting upon their aged shrine is welcome, more so than the chaos and spite that always seems to cling to humans no matter how kindly they speak or how politely they carry themselves. 

       Humans are almost always selfish, cruel creatures they have learned. Yet the owls that take shelter beneath their crudely polished stones, clean their feathers, and chirp amongst themselves are innocent - animals are incapable of cruelty and they wish it were possible to truly touch them. But when they lean forward upon the roof of their meager shrine to ghost their icy fingers over the bird’s soft feathers, they feel nothing - their hand passes through its solid form and the owl lets out a screech of surprise as it lifts its frozen wings and attempts to fly away only to fall upon the frozen earth. With a series of screeches echoing through the mountain that rattled their formless body they watched; cold, blue eyes twisting open in concern as the bird continued to struggle. Leaping onto the ground, they made their way over to the bird, hand lingering above its form like they wished to help it. But if they touched it again, they would only hurt it more. 

        Lips curing downward into a frown, they returned to the shrine, rummaging through the offerings for something anything that might warm the bird - pulling out an old scarf at the bottom. Carefully taking it between their thumb and index finger to prevent from freezing too much of the cloth, they went back to the bird, kneeling down beside it and dropping the scarf upon its wing before rubbing the thick cloth against its feathers to thaw out the tiny bits of ice clinging to its body. It was still for a long moment - unable to see them and unable to touch them; confused and dazed, but seemingly comforted by the warmth. Yet, the moment the poor creatures hears the sound of footsteps echoing off of the shrine’s old, wooden walls, it wiggles away from the scarf, stretches its trembling wings and takes off. At first it dips several times, but it eventually regains its balance, much to Haku’s relief. 

       They watch the bird until its frame vanishes into the sunrise, only then do they turn to face the shrine and the woman currently standing before it. Visitors were rare after spring twisted into fall and the weather began to take a turn for the worse, even the locals who normally made it part of their daily routine to visit them would miss days, even weeks, here and there for the sake of their own safety; a visitor that they had been never seen before was rarer still. Even so, her prayer still reaches their ears; carried by the wind to them as they make their way over to the stranger. “To wish for such a thing from me...you would be better off praying at the temples within the city.” They doubt they will be heard, let alone seen, but habit makes them speak anyway, perhaps simply because they hope one day someone will hear them - if for no other reason than to fill the void that has seemingly plagued them since the day this shrine was made their home.  

[imteamtaylor]

breathe | taylor swift

[moon--wake-blog]

unladylikc‌:

     Perhaps it was just her imagination, but Vivian could’ve sworn Therion’s voice shifted into a much lighter tone, the more he actually spoke. For once, he sounded… easygoing, as if at least some cheer returned back to his grumpy demeanor. Truth be told, she couldn’t help being  OVERJOYED;  in fact, should her silly remarks bring him any contentment whatsoever, then all the better. No matter how ridiculous it made her come across, Vivian would gladly crack jokes and form wild claims or guesses until Therion finally started smiling behind the other side of the door they were both situated against.

    Of course, it went without saying she knew ‘Durian’ couldn’t have been his ex-boyfriend’s name; still, she allowed herself to utter it aloud simply for ‘shits and giggles’. Judging from the muffled laugh that escaped his lips, on the other hand, Vivian assumed that she must have at least tickled his humerus bone a little bit, so she’ll smile triumphantly before lowering her chin and lifting each splayed fingertip over her chin to feign naivete.

      “ You mean his parents didn’t name him after an actual stinky fruit? Aww, talk about disappointing! ” Vivian bemoans, in reference to durians being known for tasting delicious yet possessing a funky, overpowering smell to them. At the very  LEAST,  though, she was now able to at least recall that Darius was indeed who she was referring to earlier. “ Oh well… regardless of whether or not it’s Darius or Durian, I’m sure you’re a way bigger catch than he could ever be, ” Vivian soon proceeds to shrug. Little by little, she then tilts her head back and shifts around  a bit so her spine was resting more comfortably along the door frame.

     Sure enough, a pleased hum soon elicits past her throat. “ Mmhm, you better be! In fact, you should let me hold all the things for you someday, like for example… your hand, ” Vivian deviously pipes up, accompanied by a cheeky grin and pleasant warmth  COURSING  through her cheeks. If nothing else, it might seem she was joking, but it wasn’t a lie she wanted to be affectionate with him, despite how unlikely it was for her to initiate all the touching… at least intentionally, that is.

     “ Hey, Therry-kins? Do you only prefer… other boys? ” Vivian eventually asks, mere moments prior from pursing her lips together in childish curiosity. If nothing else, she wouldn’t hold it against him for not finding women attractive, but his answer will determine whether or not she’ll be fantasizing about him tonight.

      “Heh, it would have been more fitting,” he snorted. If either one of them had been filthy, though, it had been him. At the time, he’d been little more than some rat playing at being human and feasting on the scraps hat had been tossed at him of pity by strangers or thriving off of the lies that rolled out of Darius’s vile mouth. Gods know, if he was being honest, if Darius was even his real name, if he’d chosen it himself, or just another lie he told Therion while they had still been together. He tried not to think about him most days, but he always did find his mind wandering back to him when he was alone and the voices of the other travelers were no longer there to distract him - much as he complained about their presence and snapped at them when they got on his nerves, he didn’t hate any of them. Did he trust them? Probably not. Maybe. He didn’t know. He’d thought he had lost his capacity to trust when he’d been stabbed in the back, but, now, he wasn’t so sure. 

       Heaving a sigh, he pressed the back of his head against the door. Hadn’t he thought of and spoken enough about hat bastard for one night? And Vivian’s starting to lose it. Like he was a catch. Sure, if someone was looking for a thief, he was the best one they were going to find, but anything more than that and he was next to useless. He didn’t make for a good friend let alone lover. But he knew better to take anything she said seriously. Was he better than Darius? Who knows. He couldn’t actually answer that question without feeling a pit form in his stomach because for all of the things he wasn’t, Darius was also so much more. In a good way and a bad way. He had been clever, independent, and strong - he’d been better at everything Therion considered himself an expert in, and kept his head above water until he decided he wanted to see him drown. He, on the other hand might as well have been hollow. 

       “Yeah right.” He rolled his eyes, lifting his hand to brush his bangs from his eye, running his calloused fingers over the jagged scar that cut through his face before letting it drop back down to his side. He turned his head to the side to glare at the other side of the door at her shameless request. He probably should have expected something so absurd to come out of her mouth by now. Gods, what was with these people and wanting to be so friendly with everyone? Couldn’t she just hold someone else’s hand if she wanted to hold something? Besides, she had another think coming if he was going to let her carry anything he managed to lift from the villagers while they were walking around. Knowing her she’s managed to get them caught. 

        “Not happening. Ask someone else,” Comes his response and one can almost feel his exasperation through the door. Of course, he thinks she’s mostly joking. Silence falls between them for a moment, though it’s not uncomfortable given that he’s never been the talkative type to begin with and it was rare to get more out of him than curt responses and a few eye rolls here and there. He turns his head back, facing the interior of the cluttered, small, and dusty room. 

       He leans back when she finally voices her question, lips tugging downwards into a frown. He’d never thought much about it. Darius had been the only person in his life that he had ever loved, and he had been with him for years. Even now, it hadn’t been all that long since he’d betrayed him - a year, maybe, he’s not sure he’d tried not to keep track. In his entire life, he’d loved no one else but the man he had left him for dead. He, probably, wasn’t suited for love. “Why are you asking? I don’t think so, but who knows...” he heaves. There’s no anger in his voice, but there’s a sense of longing and, perhaps, sorrow instead. “Darius is - was the only person I’ve ever loved.” 

[bubblemints]

⟨  music to my ear.  ⟩

[moon--wake-blog]

bubblemints‌:

          — ♫ ✧･ﾟ  A faded-green bubblegum exploded at his lips with a loud, obnoxious (  POP  ) sound that filled the otherwise quiet room. Retracting it back swiftly inside his mouth as he kept on chewing without a single care in the world, even though the mint flavor died hours ago. — What truly made his summer vacation an unbearably BORING one, despite the joy of graduation and breaking free of school life, is the fact that all his friends departed Japan as soon as they were done with the finals. Going on vacations with their families and exploring the world before settling for college and future commitments. A sigh of frustration escaped his mouth as he rolled over on his bed, feet hanging loosely off the frame, he is a tall boy after all. It’s not that Hara doesn’t care about his future, it’s that   m u s i c   is more important to him now than a degree he will probably never even glance at more than once in his entire lifetime. It sounds bleak, but truthfully, unless it’s a music career, Hara can’t find it within him to think about going to university. && it’s not like he didn’t have a talent, he’d make a pretty god musician. 

          Across the room laid his dark blue electric guitar on the messy floor between floods and floods of objects neglected right beside the musical instrument, his treasure. The huge drums stood at the far corner of the room, often the source of noise in the house and the reason why the neighbors have something to bitch about to the police station every now and then ~. Coming from a wealthy family, like the rest of Kirisaki Daiichi high, money is, was and will never be a problem to kids like Hara who were born with a golden spoon inside their mouths. So a bright future is merely a luxurious image rather than an actual requirement for survival. Other kids who aren’t as fortunate as him have to work even harder to get into a good school in order to graduate with a guaranteed, stable job and somewhat a humble income. They didn’t have the luxury of following their dreams. And right now, the power forward wasn’t sure if he had the luxury of doing so either. 

          After graduation; things got intense between Hara && his parents, to put it mildly, who did not approve of a lifepath that did not involve a degree and a stable job coming along. In fact, a music career landed more like a joke than an actual plan of execution. HILARIOUS. Something to look back at as a mockery of his stupidity. So of course, his days && nights were spent either repeating the same points to his parents in the same damn never-ending argument && sounding like a broken record or spending the evening with his younger brother who did not seem to care one bit about Hara’s future. Guess that’s the perk of being a naive kid. After only few weeks of either an intense silent treatment between him && his parents or a full fledged heated argument that boils his blood with rage, for someone who’s actually pretty cold && chill, Hara rarely spent time at home. Hanging outside, even if it meant being by himself and attracting weird looks, sounded way better of a plan than spending the time at home with the current climate. 

         Collecting himself, Hara dragged his body off the comfy, cozy bed, immediately regretting doing so as the sudden cold air hitting his pale skin was not inviting at the least. Putting something on rather than staying in his boxers, the boy headed outside to the noisy, neonlight nightlife of Tokyo with no destination in mind. Hanamiya was probably still in Tokyo but Hara doubted he’s in the mood to leave his bedroom. LIKE EVER !! After few minutes of walking, Hara stepped inside a tiny but nice-looking coffee shop, what surprised him the most is how empty it is but maybe people do sleep at night after all. Although he isn’t a coffee person or a consumer of caffeine, he needed somewhere to crash for few and play with his Nintendo. 

          He pulled out his purple Nintendo and with the loudest volume possible started playing his music game. ~ Just for now at least, it seemed perfect to escape. 

       Time to himself was a luxury he didn’t often have. Every minute of every single day was carefully laid out and bursting at the seams - filled with watchful eyes and countless conversations that often faded to the back of his mind the moment the lights were turned off and he wasn’t staring into the eyes of eager and energetic fans that had been willing to spare them a moment of their time to support the group. He’d grown used to the busy schedule, to the same questions and answers that always filled his days, and the performances that reminded him why he still cared in the first place. He preferred to be busty; he preferred to devote his time to the strangers whose lives he had touched through his music, and preferred pouring everything he was into every word that spilled from his lips and every step he took while standing in front of an audience he felt like he knew despite their faces being little more than a blur to him beneath bright lights and eerie glow of neon colors flashing in the darkness laid out before him. But he wouldn’t complain when, every now and then, their schedule has its dips, either because extra days had been planned for an event that didn’t need them or there was a lull in the work made available to them for whatever reason (or simply that none of the work offered to them was up to the company’s standard). Few people would consider the deep emptiness of the night sky beneath a moon hidden behind looming buildings ‘time-off’ when they had spent the afternoon appearing on shows or in interviews, but to Tenn, this was a lull in his busy schedule.

     With a hood pulled high over his rosy locks and large-rimmed glasses covering much of his face to, hopefully, prevent people from noticing him, he made his way down the streets that had mostly quieted down for the night. But this was Tokyo, after all, there was rarely a time when this city wasn’t obnoxiously lively. The scenery; however, made for a decent walk and the idle chatter happening in the background was easy enough to ignore when he popped in a pair of headphones to scroll through all of the new videos and various songs that had been released within the past week or so - taking mental notes, memorizing the pitches in the singers’ voices, and shaping an opinion of those who were wither coming into the industry or were long-standing residents that had once caught his eye for one reason or another. Even when his life was consumed by it, he could never get enough of music. It was his world; it was everything that made him who he was, and gave him a reason to keep reaching forward. No one would ever doubt the passion he harbored for music - not after they had a single conversation with him, heard him song, or watched one of his live shows. Right now, though, he simply wanted to catch up on what he had missed and dig for something worthwhile amongst the drone of people who lacked passion for what they did.

      And it would be easier to enjoy them when he didn’t have to listen to his bandmates ramble in the background. A coffee shop was the prime spot to relax and listen to a few songs at this hour, and with the sheet number that lined Tokyo’s busy streets, he found one with very little difficulty - one that was mostly empty save for a few people huddled in the corner. Ordering a rather sweat-tasting drink he found himself a spot away from the other group and sat down, fully prepared to spend the next few hours watching repeats of live shows he had already intended, watching his own performances to make sure they were up to his standard, and listening to new songs that had been released by a few groups he had his eyes on. And, well, for the first half an hour or so of his time in the shop everything had gone as intended. The shop was quiet, the other customers left him alone, and the owner seemed completely absorbed in her job so she didn’t pay him any attention after he had sat down. But that peace was shattered by the sound of some game blasting from a handhold as a boy with bright, bubblegum pink hair came through the shop’s unsuspecting doors. He tried to drown the sound out with his headphones, but, after a few minutes he began to recognize the songs blaring from the handhold. It must have been some game about idols - some of the songs belonged to a few of his rivals and he wasn’t exactly surprised when one of TRIGGER’s own songs began rumbling through the shop from the boy’s game.    

       Taking his headphones out, he set his phone down on the sleek tabletop, hand supporting his chin as he listened to the other try to keep up with the song’s rhythm. The sound itself was a bit pixelated - nothing like the real deal when heard live or even from a CD, and the guy wasn’t exactly bad, but...a sigh fell from his lips, rosy irises shifting to look at the other - he seemed distracted and it was making his beat off and, frankly, it was starting to drive him crazy. Not just because this was one of his own songs, but because this guy clearly had some musical talent and was wasting it on some half-assed game with half-assed enthusiasm. “At least try to be on beat if you’re going to play that thing so loud. Your timing is off,” he said without much thought. His voice harsh and mostly disinterested. It was just some stupid game. He didn’t exactly care, but when the sound of his voice and his steps were being distorted because this guy was distracted, it was annoying.    

[fujiraid]

black side

[moon--wake-blog]

shuoshuzhe‌:

[ @moon–wake / sc. ft. lan sizhui ]

           sharply clapping his hands together to gather the attention of everyone, “ alright, enough, ” sizhui starts, looking between jin ling and the other group of cultivators ( he doesn’t recognize their faces ) ; having arrived late, he has no idea what just transpired between jin ling and the other group but with the looks of jin ling’s dirtied clothes, he could only make assumptions. sizhui tries to insert himself between jin ling at the person the younger was currently bickering with. “ i apologize, but jin — gongzi and i have another place to be, ” he offers a small smile, hoping to get the other party to back down. “ i am unsure what has transpired, but i hope that you gentlemen could excuse us ?? ” sizhui said, hoping to distance jin ling from the others before things got difficult…or worse, physical. he wasn’t about to apologize for whatever jin ling did ( he has no idea what happened and he’s sure jin ling didn’t want him to be apologizing for him anyways )…the other party doesn’t seem like they were going to apologize either.

       All of the tension in his taught muscles is released the moment Lan Sizhui’s clap startles every enraged fiber of his being out of his chilled bloodstream for the sort time it takes for Jin Ling to tear his gaze away from the other cultivators to glare at his...friend. His lips are quick to twist downwards into a harsh frown as the other inserts himself between him and the group, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he shifted around Lan Sizhui’s form to glare the others.  “I don’t need your help,” he spat. He’d always been on his own; he’d never needed anyone but Fairy to back up him (he never had anyone else who would even consider doing so before now). And old habits were hard to kill when his pride was leaking out all around him and he wanted nothing more than to put those rival cultivators in their place for speaking poorly of his parents. But, for now, all he did was ball his hands into tight fists and direct his anger back towards its source. “And you better not think I’m running away, I’ll take you on any time.” Kicking up a clump of dirt in their direction, he turned on his heels and walked away, grumbling under his breath until the group was well out of sight. “I would have been fine,” he eventually groans between his detailed threats and harsh complaints when they’re put of earshot of the rival group of cultivators, but his anger has largely deflated now - enough for him to admit, to himself, that he was grateful for Lan Sizhui’s help (though he’d rather be caught dead than admitting something so embarrassing).   

[moon--wake-blog]

jiianghu‌:

@moon–wake // starter call.

         knocking back a mouthful of emperor’s smile , wei wuxian  lounged lazily backwards against the pillar supporting him up , lips flicking up into a half - grin , using the back of his sleeve to wipe the liquor that dripped down his chin .  “ what’s with the look ? did i miss another meeting or something ? “

      Crossing his arms in front of his chest, a scowl nestled itself onto his strict features as he glared at the other; brows bulled into a tight line that made his forehead wrinkle while his lips busied themselves by stretching downwards into a tight frown. “Tch, since when have you ever bothered to show up in the first place? Keep this up, and even I might stop speaking to you.” This, of course, referred to Wei Wuxian picking up the straggly remains of the Wen Sect that should have been burned alive in his less than humble opinion rather than his poor conduct in general. No, he could tolerate - even expected, the other to avoid meetings and ignore the demands of the cultivation world as a whole. He always had. What he couldn’t stand was seeing those dogs crawling around him, begging for scraps and rolling over for their moronic savior. 

[unladylikc]

[unladylikc]

unladylikc‌:

                        ❛  wings of transformation are born                                                 through both patience and struggle.  ❜

                                               PERSONALS, DO NOT REBLOG

[imteamtaylor]

cornelia street | taylor swift

[moon--wake-blog]

abxndonedd‌:

      But there is something special and something very different and Teddy only notices it once he gets close enough to the demon’s face. His eyes. The kitten briefly remembers being told that the demon king can’t see, but at the time Teddy didn’t understand the truth behind those words. 

      He allows his fingers to be pried away from hair and instead continues to explore the king’s face. The demon’s words continue to fall short on the child, who’s goal in life is to quench boredom. “I wanna push luck.” He explains with a giggle as he slowly trails a finger down the demon’s forehead and to one of his eyes. He knows not to outright poke it, as that would hurt, but he does slowly creep closer and closer… His voice is a whisper now that he’s concentrating. 

      “Can’t see…?”

      “As I can tell,” is his simple, largely disinterested response to the child’s giggle as he can feel the boy’s fingers continue to travel about his face. Instinct making him pull his head away from the child’s grasp as he feels his hand reach one of his eyes to avoid being poked if that is the other’s intent. While he can tolerate much of the boy’s useless probing, he had little interest entertaining the idea of his eyes, though mostly uselessly, being poked and jabbed at. It’s only after he attempts to speak that he realizes why the boy has such a sudden interest in his face, or rather, his eyes. For a toddler, he imagines the notion of being unable to see a difficult concept to grasp, and he’s merely attempting to understand what had already been explained to him.

        “Yes, you are right. I cannot see.” But he doesn’t know how to explain it to a child of Teddy’s age, at least in a manner that he would be capable of understanding. If he were just a bit older, it would have been a far easier task. But he could only shake his head to vanish the thoughts. “My eyes cannot see what yours are able to. To me, everything around me is dark - there is nothing.” That didn’t sound quite right either, but it had been centuries since he had lost his vision, and he had grown so used to it that it was difficult for him to even try to imagine what things had been like before, nor did he wish to think too much on it. 

         “I know you are here, but I do not know what you look like, for example. I suppose, if you were to close your eyes that would be the closest you could come to understanding.” It was by no means the same thing, or even close, but he was toddler and he supposed that was the easiest way to explain it to him.  

[moon--wake-blog]

awakenfate‌:

           By this point in her tenure as summoner of Askr, Rosamaria had dealt with her fair share of prickly heroes; men and women allike. And for the most part, that suited her just fine. Sharena was the one who was most disappointed with outcomes like that, even if it didn’t deter her from befriending them. The fact still remained that Rosamaria just didn’t have that same determination or ease for making friends in her. Beyond her sweet words that really only served to stroke egos and get her one step closer to what she needed from others, she simply didn’t click with people. That was true even before she arrived here. 

          So, she had to wonder why she was drawn to him. What could have possibly possessed her to leave her perfectly good perch from her balcony upon seeing him with that horse of his and make the effort of walking all the way out to the grounds, trudging through the grass in her very nice and new heels? Sure wasn’t his sparkling personality. Her gaze boldly lingered upon his scars, and she instinctively knew it wasn’t that either. Curious as she was about them, she didn’t make it a habit to really track people down like this. They came to her, not the other way around. 

          … And then there was the horse. No one could deny the practicality of such a creature on the battlefield, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable with them. It noticed her before he did, breathing loudly in her direction and sending tension coiling tightly through her neck and shoulders. Pressing her ruby lips together, she folded her arms beneath her chest, as if that could protect her from this creature should it suddenly decide that it hated her and it expressed that however horses did…. With a kick? Donkeys did that but she thought she heard—.

          Oh. 

            ❝ … Right. ❞  How easily that tidbit escaped her. Her eyes lingered upon where only what she imagined must be… glass, looking out at her, completely unseeing. Blind. He’s blind, Rosa. 

          Alright, well, he had every right to be annoyed with her.  ❝ How do you want me to do that, exactly? Going around around saying ‘It is I, Rosamaria, your great and beautiful summoner’ every time I approach you not only feels like it’ll be troublesome, but pretentious too. —Not that any of that isn’t true. ❞   She grinned at him, her hand reaching up to card through some dark curls. That comment about using his blade against her? Completely brushed off.  ❝ I’m tempted to suggest that maybe I could wear a bell, you know, like one of those cute necklaces? But I’m not sure if any of the cats around here are already running around with one of those. Also, that leans a little bit into the kinky, and I don’t think we’re there quite yet. ❞  After a long and lingering gaze, she decided that, no, she wouldn’t be particularly opposed to it. Rosamaria bit down on her lower lip. Would make him a less grumpy, that’s for sure. 

             If only he’d stop acting like she was an annoying piece of gum attached to the heel of his boot, then they’d get somewhere. She’s far too pretty for that kind of treatment too, and she knew it.   

          ❝ Anyway, I only wanted to see what it was you were doing out here. It’s not the first time I’ve noticed you doing something similar, actually. The longer you’re here, you’ll come to realize that this is a running theme. I have a need to know things. ❞ Actually, she just needed to get this ( whatever this is ) out of her system, and she hoped that whatever mundane answer he gives her will get the job done.

      Her comments were, as always, easy enough to brush aside, though he didn’t actively ignore her, it was the next best thing. Given how little interest he had in this world, its people, and the other heroes that had been summoned here and forced to fight, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he chose to keep to himself, often ignoring the attempts of the more outspoken members of the army to speak with him. He was willing to defend those he had to fight beside when assigned to a mission, but, otherwise, he had no interest in anyone or anything related to this world. Selfish, or even cruel, perhaps? But he had spent every waking hour of his entire existence protecting, defending, and serving Daein, and Daein alone. The world was vast, of course, both this one and the one he had been dragged here from, but his world had always been, and always would only be, the country he had been born in and fought for in multiple, bloody wars - the land where his Lord was dead and buried. 

       “Do what you wish.” It was simply a polite way to say ‘I don’t care’ given only out of habit having been a knight for so long. As it stood, she was his master at the moment, and his conduct wouldn’t allow him to be outright rude towards her, but his unwillingness was made apparent in nearly every aspect of his speech and mannerisms, even down to how Suntaria reacted to the people of this world. Her muscles tense; nostrils flaring, and her deep, ebony irises glaring down anyone who drew close to her, even as Ira’s fingers idly stroked her neck, both for her sake as well as his own. 

       Frankly, he didn’t actually know what type of necklace she was referring to and didn’t care enough to ask - whatever she told him would have been largely uselessly anyway, but he’d like to spare his own ears, as well as those of the animals residing here, from such a fate.  “A bell is unnecessary.” Almost as unnecessary as buttering herself up every single time she comes near him is, but he’ll leave that comment to himself, after all, he doesn’t know what she looks like and will never know what she looks like. For all he knew, she could have been quite beautiful or downright hideous. “I will memorize the sound of your footsteps soon enough so there is no need for such drastic measures.” 

       Given that she was his commander, it would only be natural. But with the sheer number of people here, it was impossible for him to memorize the tiny details of everyone residing within the palace and he no intention of putting in that much work towards something so useless. No, he would only bother to memorize the habits and sounds of those most important and relevant to their cause and though she was a bit difficult, no one could argue against how vital she was for the sake of Askr’s growing army. 

        “Nothing that need be of concern to you.” Is he mildly concerned that  her need to know everything that is unfolding around her might backfire on her one day? Yes, of course, but he won’t give voice to it. And though his words aren’t intended to be rude, he could have very well come off as cold in the process. After all, he truly believed what he was doing at the moment to be something mundane and useless for her to know the details of, though he wasn’t unwilling to tell her in order to, hopefully, stop her incoming series of questions. 

         “I am simply having her memorize the land.” He had a vague idea of the layout of the palace himself, but for anything more than trying not to get lost, it wasn’t terribly helpful when things were constantly changing and people were always being added into the equation. It was easier for him to have Suntaria memorize the various paths, where they lead, and avoid any obstacles in the process. She had always been quick to learn and nearly memorized every path to and from the palace, as well as where the stables, garden, and the palace itself was located. Since he had lost his vision, she had always been the one to guide him when he needed her.    

[moon--wake-blog]

MAKE A TEACUP BASED OFF YOUR MUSE !!

Tagged by: @sozotohakai (Thank you! ) Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this!

I went with Jin Ling!

[moon--wake-blog]

unladylikc‌:

     Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as if Claude had failed to notice, causing her sheepish gaze to lower with the blush along her cheeks only intensifying. Oh, she should have known that he would have seen through the word, ‘daydreaming’! Then again, she was never one to lie or dance around the truth particularly well; still, Vivian hopes her staring might have been open enough to interpretation, he would have never suspected a less innocent meaning behind those  LINGERING  looks. Why, for all she knew, Claude could have believed her to be lovesick, rather than lust stricken. Either way, provided she was honest, none of those prospects were admittedly ideal.

    “ I-I have no idea what you’re talking about, Claudish! ” Vivian stammers out at long last while ensuring her voice remained a hushed whisper. In the end, the last thing she’d want is for anyone to eavesdrop on their conversation. Regardless, Claude did have a point… only, it felt inappropriate to center her fantasies around those who have yet to turn a certain age, which was why Sylvain and Hubert became tools to fuel her imagination. Even so, did he truly have to call her out on it? “ Just so we’re clear… my tastes lie in the realm of fiction, m-meaning nobody here is my type. I was simply daydreaming for different reasons! ” she later proceeds to add.

    Rather hesitantly, Vivian then tilts her chin upwards, once Claude meanders on  AHEAD.  Soon, an exasperated sigh leaves her lips. Exactly what had she gotten herself into now? “ …Those are impressive, I gotta say, ” Vivian soon acknowledges. “ Granted, rarely anyone can out manly Raph, but a man who can flex with confidence earns my instant respect and favouritism. Maybe when you’re less busy, Claudish, I can treat you to some protein coffee to buff up your arms. As of late, I’ve been buying lots of imperial beans and I really want to share some with a fellow stalwart peer. ”

     Though she says this, actual reality proves otherwise, for unlike Hilda, Vivian was a verified ‘delicate flower’ who would  KEEL  over by a fierce wind, no matter how much she may boast about her own strength. Then again, if Claude wanted to remain in her good graces, he’d better not point that out.

        A harmless chuckle fell from his lips as she tried to stammer out an excuse for her wandering eyes and apparent interest in the taller man a few warm bodies in front of them. Frankly, Sylvain and Hubert really did stand out in a crowd; if only because one had bright, red hair and the other looked like he hadn’t slept in at least a decade. But he wasn’t really here to judge her taste in men, someone like Hilda would have been more suited for that (though he’d, personally advise against either one given the rumors about the first and the fact that Hubert looked like he had crawled straight of of a coffin).”Sure, Sure,” he teased; his elbows folded behind his head and his posture relaxed as they waited in line. The scent of a warm meal reminding him that he was hear to grab a bite to eat and not discuss her possibly terrible relationship plans.

        “Oh, really? Well, I can think of a few people here who act like they’ve come straight of a work of fiction.” Frankly, if he didn’t know any better, he might seriously question if Hubert was a vampire. “So I bet there’s a few people here who are your type.” Dimitri might as well have been the perfect, pretty-faced prince out of the tales of old - minus that bloodlust he had going on, and he was pretty confident in Hubert’s ability to play the role of some dark and brooding villain that just needed the right person to come along and yank him from the darkness...all right, so maybe not. But the thought was a mildly entertaining to one to say the least. “And what is that different reason you were daydreaming then?” There was no malice in his tone, he was simply playing around; passing time and learning what he could about the other students.   

        Regardless, she appeared to be in good spirits. “Yeah, I don’t think he has much competition in that category, well, except for maybe you.” Or rather Hilda. Funny how one of them pretended to be a delicate flower despite being more than capable of bench pressing him and the other thought herself manly despite actually being a delicate flower that would tumble over if he were to so much as blow on her. Well, regardless, he didn’t mind playing along if it didn’t get in the way of their missions or his own plans. “I’ll keep your offer in mind. If I want to keep up with you, I’ll have to work on buffing up my arms a bit.” That was hardly truly, as an archer his arms were well-toned and fairly powerful and, even if they weren’t, he was still fairly confident that he would have been stronger than her. 

        Slowly, the line dragged on, and the two taller students in questions vanished around the bend just as they managed to get to the very edge of the table where the maids were busying themselves slapping food down on everyone’s trays. The food here wasn’t exactly anything to write home about, but he’d never been picky and, if it was edible, he was eating it. He imagined things must be far more difficult for the more noble students who had spent their entire lives on custom meals that probably cost more than anything he had, and would ever have, on his person. And, frankly, he was thrilled when it wad their turn to have a few pieces of meat, bread, and whatever else was in that pile, slapped onto his dish. 

[theendlessforest]