Wear your scars proudly. Whatever tried to kill you failed.
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@serpentii
Wear your scars proudly. Whatever tried to kill you failed.
⁛┊┊❛ fiercefourthborn ❜
Gryff’s eyes remained wide open listening to her, phrases, that streamed like water with notes of the flow rippling softly. It had been so long. Memory sat deep in his bones, like a habit, like an instinct — a voice, that meant safety, solitude, care, that was enough to make him calm
that U S E D to be enough.
He gaped at her, he listened, he saw familiar features & heard familiar notes, but he did not recognize. What has changed in her, it was barely tangible at first sight, but it EXISTED, giving a feeling of a splinter in your hand — just being there, invisible, impossible to grasp, seemingly small & insignificant, but slowly driving you crazy with it’s mere presence.
She was different now. And this was some bullshit right here.
Gryff barely perceived what was said, with his mind still messed by the revelation, & what’s more important — with the lack of wish to understand. Edie spoke in some incoherent phrases, tint irony in it, that felt so strange & distant, that it made goosebumps run down his arms all out of sudden. She was missing the fucking point. He did not know what this was about, neither did he care for any bloody r i d d l e s, he cared for one thing — EXPLANATION, one that’d make sense, one that’d make her drop the fucking act & speak sense.
The Whitehill almost gave in to the temptation of stepping forward & straight up demanding one.
“We have to talk.” He breathed this out, then gritting teeth back, with little wish to say much more for others to see. He could feel Harys step forward silently somewhere behind him, but called the move off with a slight motion of his hand. Presence of the man gave him confidence like nothing else did, yet this had to be solved between the two of them. “In private.”
once, she would have cared about his ANGER and sought to QUIET him, UNDERSTAND what had pushed him so far. ONCE UPON A TIME, edie degore had spent her time trying to raising gryff to be s t r o n g and to wield his rage, not rely on it. looking upon him, it made an unfamiliar notion burst behind her ribs, expand throughout her, and it hungered. her beast-like smile was sharp, the barest flash of teeth behind her lips. ( NOTHING AS POWERFUL AS YOU WAS EVER FORGED WITHOUT FIRE AND SWEAT AND BLOOD ). eyes never quite left gryff, predatory in a manner, even as they counted the soldiers again.
her stride projected PRIDE and GRACE, a hand briefly touched rodrik’s shoulder ( i can handle him ). did he not see it ? did he not understand ? the line was drawn now and there would be no gaiety, there was no love, and there would be no JOY. she paused briefly, a sardonic bow given before all, as her lips curved more; a grinning beast. ❛ of course, m’lord. ❜ the word tacked on to the sentence, thick with a grim sense of obedience. ( i am nothing without the pain ). her eyes danced with shallow mirth. a simple gesture of her hand as she moved past him, feet carrying her towards ironrath’s forge.
❛ i don’t see what you can’t understand, gryff, ❜ her voice was soft, gentle. this was all purposeful, of course. the more he was placed off balance, the better she could act. the past could be a weapon as much as one’s body or a sword. memory had a way of bringing back feelings that could spring like WEEDS, choking one’s ability to do what they must. fingertips brushed across racked swords, edie checked every one idly, assurance that these blades were up to her standards.
❛ i stand with the forresters, ❜ her head tilted back slightly, eyes flicked to him in indolence. ❛ or did your father not tell you ? ❜
another easily exploited point. ( A WHITEHILL IS STILL A WHITEHILL ). she knew, she heard, she saw. ludd had attempted to assuage the brothers, stop the hatred, but hardly worthwhile in the end. oh, but she was aware of his worship of ludd, he would fight tooth and nail for his father. ( fool, caring is not an advantage here ). but he didn’t know this. gryff did not see the rot behind the shimmer.
USE THE LETTERS OF YOUR MUSE’S FIRST NAME TO DESCRIBE THEIR PERSONALITY !! // TAG SOME PEOPLE WHEN YOU’RE DONE —— REPOST, DON’T REBLOG.
E - Enigmatic D - Deceptive Disciplined I - Independent E - Elegant TAGGED BY: @fiercefourthborn TAGGING: who ever hasn’t done it. :|
reads @morethanjustwords‘s reply:
pridefulsuggestion :
I do not pray - I command
BURN MY SHADOW | WAR STORIES | UNKLE
⁛┊┊❛ terrarosas ❜
She giggled as Edie’s arms wrapped around her — a slightly nervous, tittering noise at being so near another person. Still not completely used to closeness and the meaning of it. Her touch, however, did not bring with it anxiety, but a spark of excitement, warm and lovely and blooming in her abdomen. Greta stroked the other woman’s hair as she’d done for her only moments before — did not think twice about whether or not her actions were appropriate, or welcomed. A part of her knew it was what she should do. The part that resented the ones Edie said would DISAGREE with her about what she deserved.
“Hm…” Greta made a show of thinking deeply, her smile almost girlish — playfulness reflected in her eyes. “I’m picturing a small little cottage on the coast. With a window you can see the whole ocean from. I can just see you now — with the wind blowing in your hair. The air smelling of salt and rain.”
Smile faltered then, as the words slipped off her tongue, the dreaminess now replaced with something more wistful. “Perhaps you could share it with someone you cared about — have some children, if that’s what you wanted. It’d be a quiet, happy life without any sadness.”
the ruffle, the rise and bounce of greta’s shoulder at her small laugh, made her lift her head slightly. greta was always an interesting case. she knew more now than she had once. it was strange how she could find moments that brought dubious and sullen thoughts to the forefront of her mind. touch was a way of conveying so many different emotions. good or ill intent, it could lead to people like her brother, who could not be touched without permission lest harm befall them, or like greta… a hum of contentment rose from her, face buried back into the crook of the woman’s neck.
there was no doubt in her over greta’s position, a mother in the sense of care and gentleness. ❛ sounds lovely, ❜ edie lifted her head again, smile faint. ❛ how’d you know i like the sea ? ❜ BITTER and COLD, she could remember the days she had sat ‘pon the docks at the cradle and watched the fishermen in the distance, felt the harsh winds on her skin, and tasted the salt in the air. but even if such a well defined dream could be true, edie had her ties with the forresters, and now, her house. arms squeezed tighter, smile brightened, and a teasing lit entered her voice. ❛ someone i care about, hm ? like you ? ❜
that list numbered in the few, those who she truly cared for. ❛ possible as it could be, i wouldn’t be able. ❜ a sigh left her lips, ❛ my house can’t stand on its own. ❜
tfw your muse craves that poly relationship.
→ ❝DISHONORED sentence starters❞
“We all start with innocence, but the world leads us to guilt.”
“The world doesn’t punish wicked people.”
“Do you think you’ll get your own squad after what happened last night?”
“When you are near, my heart is at peace.”
“She had to die!”
“You’re a mystery, and I can’t have that.”
“Our choices always matter to someone, somewhere.”
“I do believe this is going to be a fabulous evening.”
“Careful, he’s armed.”
“I was born into nothing, and it’s nothing I’ll return to.”
“Going to a party?”
“Coming from a party?”
“There’s always more to learn about pain.”
“I hope you don’t mind having a lady in your room.”
“You were making funny faces when you were sleeping.”
“May all the spirits guide you, and may your enemy’s head hit the floor without you taking a scratch.”
“Are you hoping to stab me in the back?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a lovely time.”
“I’ve killed a hundred of your kind, and I’ll kill a thousand more before I’m gone.”
“I’ve lived a long, long time, and these are the moments I wait for.”
“You fascinate me.”
“Are all artists narcissists?”
“Strange how there’s always a little more innocence left to lose.”
“I’m just a little fish in a big pond.”
“Are you chasing something, or running away?”
“You move so silently. You could be a dancer.”
“I have no regrets. What about you?”
“What happens to scary monsters in the end?”
“I treat every sunset as if it’s our last.”
“When the music stops, we all fall down.”
“It’s that moment just before the light goes that matters most of all.”
“I’m enjoying our renewed friendship.”
“You have no right to take this from me!”
“Your life has taken a turn, has it not?”
“All things end, all things burn to ash. But you, my friend, burn bright.”
“There’s blood on all the coins that pass through here.”
“My mother warned me never to make an enemy of a witch.”
“My life is yours. Kill me or let me live, if it even matters to you.”
“I expect a good show.”
“Let’s go home.”
She kissed demons and slept with ghosts because living with the dead felt more like home.
zoë perez
excerpt from “sleeping with ghost”.
(via sugarskinned)