bleeding - heart .

is  the  blood  on  your  hands  dry  ?  is  it  slowly  disappearing  ?

[bladesurgence]

❛ I trust you. I need you. ❜

     Her whispers are the breeze leaving the wasteland, the vestiges of light falling beneath the horizon. And Irelia clings to whatever traces she can hear, hoping that by keeping the embers together she can rekindle the flame. Let be selfish this time, Earth Mother, and let me hold onto this life a little longer.

     Lying in her arms, a flower in the ashes, Ahri sets a hand against Irelia’s chest.

     Irelia staggers with her next step, and the climb weighs down on her. It feels like gravity has taken up arms against her. But her resolve is her strength, her commitment her energy, and she takes another step, then another. Even the weight of the sky on her shoulders would not stop her. She feels Ahri’s ragged breaths strain her body, and its uneven rhythm fills her with dread. When would those breaths stop being Ahri’s, and start becoming the Spirit’s?

     When Irelia raises her head again, however, their destination is in front of them. A small pond, water lilies decorating its surface and reeds bordering its edges. Irelia feels a renewed vigor in her steps, and she rushes to the bank, setting Ahri down. Cupping her hands together, she scoops up a handful of water and brings it to her mouth.

     “Drink, please.” Ahri responds with a faint nod, her eyes closing as the liquid passes between her lips.

     Irelia kneels beside her, taking Ahri’s hands in hers. Her ailment has not dulled her beauty, nor dimmed the sleekness of her hair. The land darkens as the sun passes behind a screen of clouds; an ominous sign for her vigil, but Irelia swears she will provide all the warmth Ahri needs.

     “The dreamcatcher plant is not just poisonous,” Irelia explains, recalling her o-ma’s teachings, “but also… imbued with magic. It’s named because of the hallucinations it causes. You’ll feel like you’re asleep, plagued with nightmares of your darkest fears.”

     She squeezes Ahri’s hand, and she feels her fingers brush against hers. It’s as close of a sign of understanding as she’ll get.

      “But you won’t be asleep - you’ll be here, with me. People will cry out, fight against their nightmares, even collapse entirely. The important thing is that you don’t give in. I’ll be at your side the whole time. When the visions come, you’ll have to fight it. Think of what’s real. Think of me.”

      Even as Irelia speaks, visions of hellfire and doom plague her mind too. She fixates her gaze on Ahri’s prone form, her tails splayed all around her. I can’t show fear. Soon I’ll be the only thing to anchor her to reality.

     She thinks she can make out a small smile crossing Ahri’s lips. But then her body begins to shake, struggling against invisible chains, and Irelia knows the trial has begun.

     Irelia leans down, placing her lips to Ahri’s forehead. “Stay with me, imella.”

[lifeinpoetry]

I am trying to write / a poem in which I am neither a monster nor a martyr

Kevin Kantor, a cento of poetry from his work created by Megan O’Hern, “You are Not Just Anything,” published in Crab Fat Magazine (via lifeinpoetry)

[antigonick]

“PROCTOR : I may think of you softly from time to time—”

— Arthur Miller, The Crucible

[blackcat-whitefox]

darling, sweet lover, one day this will all be over

[soulthroes]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭.

            “Turn your shoulder to me, little flower. Let me see the sun on your face.”

            She is so warm it feels like the sun is inside her; breathing in the hyacinth and forget-me-nots, Ahri casts a glance over her shoulder, impish amusement already bubbling up on the tip of her tongue, and preens for him. Her artist sets aside his sketchbook and leans forward, a smile mischievously working its way across his countenance. He had eyes so dark they sparkled.

            Ahri takes the bait, with a knowing smile to match his own. “Aren’t you going to draw?”

            “Ah,” he says, and leans back. “I lied. I only wanted an excuse to look at you.”

            “You can’t be trusted,” Ahri laughs, and in one fluid motion she rises to pounce. They tumble over and over through the wildflowers, a scatter of laughter in their wake, and roll to a stop with Ahri victoriously straddled across his lap. She brushes a strand of dark hair from her love’s eyes and smiles, coyly gloating. “That is what you get for deceiving me.”

            A clattering tumble of movement draws both their eyes downwards.

            “Take care not to lose these,” he says, and reaches for where Ahri’s tokens had fallen, two perfect halves laying open in the grass. She takes the stones gingerly and slots the pieces together, smoothing the pads of her fingers over the intricate whorls.

            “I can’t bear not to carry them with me,” she murmurs. She was rarely this careless; it would not happen again. Ahri glances away to secure them, and as she does her artist sits up, his palm braced against the grass. His other rises to cup her face, thumb smoothing softly over her cheekbone.

            “You’d like to find them, wouldn’t you?” he says. “Your family.”

            “I…” She had not once spoken the desire so plainly, but he knew her in ways she often didn’t even know herself. “I have thought about it,” she admits uneasily. “But I am… afraid. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

            “I’ll go with you.” He smiles, handsomely boyish, dark hair always falling into those dark eyes of his, and Ahri feels the rhythm of her chest go aflutter. “We’ll scour Ionia together, as far and as wide as it takes. Just imagine the places we’ll go. This forest begins to feels so small once you get to know it.”

            “You don’t know what you’re saying,” Ahri laughs, reaching to cup the back of his hand against her face. “I have never known my family. It would be a long and disappointing journey. “

            “You deserve to have a home,” he insists. “I would follow you to the ends of the world, jihelya.”

            Ahri’s doubt falters. She feels so warm- a rising sun, born again. She pulls back his hand and leans in to kiss him, tenderly and in silent thanks. “Then we’ll go,” she says, and their shared smiles are like new budding life.

            And if they found nothing, she would not grieve long, for she had already found a home in him.

[soulthroes]

the bowl is set down with little ceremony, placed at the foot of a great tree. in it are whatever fruits he managed to gather, along with a single stick of incense that he sticks into the earth & lights. it wasn't much, but for the creature of the forest, he will offer her a prayer for her blessings.

            This is not the first time he has come.

            At first Ahri was skeptical, as she always is: his intrusion so near to her home was unwelcome, and was more than enough cause for concern. She would let the offerings the man laid out for her go completely untouched, left to be carted off by wildlife or taken by rot. She would watch him come and go when she could, concealed in the branches of a towering oak, and sometimes she would arrive and find the gifts already there, his brief visit long since passed.

            (  Once, after he had already left, Ahri curiously plucked up the fragrant stick he had left behind in the earth, still curling sweet - smelling smoke into the air. She liked it so much she kept it —  just once —  and the next time he returned he left behind an extra, tucked in among the fruits. That cowed her into not approaching again for a long while.  ) 

            Ahri feels a strange frustration prickle her skin. He gained nothing —  she had hoped remaining impassive would dissuade him from returning, but he did time and time again, seemingly unswayed. She watches this time from a high bough of the very same tree he kneels at —  closer than she has ever dared approach —  her tails picking up an irritated, jittery sway. Words swell in her chest and stifle at the barrier of her tongue. 

            ‘ Why do you come here ?  ’

            The fox blurts out her demand almost without thinking. She sees him freeze, notices every muscle go cold and still halfway through the motion of lighting the incense. His gaze tips back, and for a long moment their eyes meet, hers a burning gold gleam in the shadow of the great oak. Ahri drops to the forest floor nigh soundlessly, tails fanning out to retain her balance. She reaches down to the bowl with her eyes still not leaving his, poised tense like an animal readying flight or fight, and gently plucks free a white pear — the motion of rising it to her nose to smell is one slick with suspicion. She wonders if he means to make her ill with poison… but the fruit is so clean and fragrant it makes her mouth water.

            She does not indulge in a bite, but she does not throw away the fruit either. She lowers her hand, cradling it close to her chest.

            ‘  … You should not come here,  ’  Ahri says, her accusatory edge softening.  ‘  Hasn’t anyone told you ?  These woods aren’t safe.  ’ 

[soulthroes]

what psds do you use for your graphics?

             hi there !  i actually have been making my own psd’s for a while so unfortunately im not comfortable releasing the one i’m currently using for other people

            here are some wonderful posts linking free - to - use psd’s however ( they’re all from kingsleigh and you should check out their whole blog bc they do some really lovely stuff, just dont forget to be courteous and like the post + credit their psd on your blog if you use !  )  one , two , three.

[soulthroes]

❛ You made a mistake. Everybody makes them. I’ve made many. It’s only fair that you made one. ❜

            Over. Under. Over.

            Ahri takes an errant strand of Irelia’s hair in her fingers- gently, like she’s handling something fragile- and tucks it back into its proper place. She has never braided another person’s hair before; everything is backwards from how she remembers it, the once familiar pattern turned on its head, but there is something methodical and soothing about the challenge. They talk while she works, about anything and everything, and that lulls her too. It opens her up in ways she has never opened up before, between the rhythm of Irelia’s voice and the feel of her hair in Ahri’s fingers, soft and weighted like silk. She does not mean to divulge as much as she does.

            Under. Over. Under.

            Ahri is thankful in that moment that Irelia’s back is to her. She has eyes that look like they see everything, and Ahri is too poor at concealing herself  ─  it makes her feel clumsy.  ‘  One is… generous,  ’  she says. She had committed crime after crime, without restraint and without any capacity or willingness to learn, and Irelia does not seem to mind. She is so earnest, so present, she only sees Ahri for what she is now- whatever that may be, Ahri allows herself the luxury of hoping it is kinder than what she sees in herself. The laugh that suddenly grows present in the hollow of her throat surprises her, but she lets it come regardless ─  it is short, a little breathless, and Ahri feels lighter for it.  ‘  …but If I’d known it was going to be a competition, I could have tried harder.  ’

            Over, under. Ahri smooths the final plaits into place and ties off the ends with a length of leather cord. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. She slides the length of the braid over Irelia’s shoulder so she can see and follows the movement, leaning around to look at her, her palm propped in the grass.  ‘  I think I’m getting better,  ’  she comments, still looking at the braid, but her eyes have turned soft and thoughtful. Everything felt backwards, still ─  that might not ever change… but the prospect of piecing it together again no longer seemed so daunting. 

            ‘  You look beautiful,  ’  she says, and she’s sure the braid has very little to do with that.

[k1du7t]

all i do is admire her but she kills me everytime

[bladesurgence]

❛ Look at me and tell me what you see. ❜

     Irelia feels a chill as Ahri sits there in front of her, tucking back her hair as if preening for her. At first glance the gold in her eyes looked like something too good to be true, liquid pyrite in the twinkle of a fox’s gaze.

     It’s rude to stare, Irelia thinks to herself, and she turns towards her other features: the ears that jut out from the top of her head, the tails that have curled up around her and fan out like the leaves of a plant. Even among vastaya, she feels different. A forest sprite, a creature of imagination, rather than a creature of magic like the Lhotlans or the Shimon.

     (And beauty, Irelia adds.)

     “I see…” Irelia stops herself, as if doubting the assessment she’s about to give. How would she describe it? “A canvas, one with many colors splashed onto it. If you paint it a certain way, the color changes - but there are too many elements on the canvas for one color to be distinct from the others.”

     She sits back, reclining onto the grass of the forest floor alongside Ahri, following the curve of her legs as they stretch out past her.

     “Or a concerto, like the sorts they play at the theater. There are many instruments there, combining to form a melody. You can focus on one, and try to tune out the others, but it’s incomplete like that. To understand it, you have to enjoy everything at once - and I think that’s what you are.” Irelia smiles, blades of grass passing through her fingers. “I don’t think it’s fair to call you human, or vastayan, or animal. You’re…something all your own.”

[promaethean]

A DARKER SHADE OF MAGIC / A GATHERING OF SHADOWS by v. e. schwab sentence meme.

❛  I’d rather die on an adventure than live standing still.  ❜

❛  After all, you can kill people, but you cannot kill magic. Not truly.  ❜

❛  Impossible. What a useless word, in a world with magic.  ❜

❛  Everyone thinks I have a death wish, you know? But I don’t want to die – dying is easy. No, I want to live, but getting close to death is the only way to feel alive. And once you do, it makes you realize that everything you were actually doing before wasn’t actually living. It was just making do. Call me crazy, but I think we do the best living when the stakes are high.  ❜

❛  You have two faces. One you wear for the world at large, and the one you wear for those you love.  ❜

❛  Everyone’s immortal until they’re not.  ❜

❛  It is as it is. It cannot be undone. So please, be grateful, and be done with it.  ❜

❛  The thing about freedom? It doesn’t come naturally. Almost no one has it handed to them. I’m free because I fought for it.  ❜

❛  I know you can do this. I know you can hear me. Stay with me. Listen to my voice.  ❜

❛  Maybe you just got a taste of what it really means to be alive. You almost died. So now you know what it feels like to live. To fear for that life. To fight for it. And once you know, well, there’s no going back.  ❜

❛  You made a mistake. Everybody makes them. Even me. I’ve made many. It’s only fair that you made one.  ❜

❛  I did only what I had to do. If I could have given my life for yours, I would have.  ❜

❛  A kiss for luck. Not that I need it.  ❜

❛  I know. I know what and who you are. What will you do? Kill me?  ❜

❛  Why am I the only one in this fucking world to be held accountable for my actions?  ❜

❛  Aren’t you afraid of dying?  ❜

❛  I’m sorry. For whatever happened to you. For whoever hurt you so deeply that you see things like friends and fondness as weapons instead of shields.  ❜

❛  You know so little of war. Battles may be fought from the outside in, but wars are won from the inside out.  ❜

❛  Between the two of us, we’ll tear the whole world down.  ❜

❛  I am going to cut that smile off your face.  ❜

❛  It hurts. More than dying ever did. There are days when I feel like I deserve this.  ❜

❛  Death doesn’t scare me. Not nearly as much as the idea of wasting a perfectly good life in fear of it.  ❜

❛ You’re always so eager to slash and stab, why couldn’t you have stabbed him.  ❜

❛  Which is it, huh? You’re angry at me, or worried about me, or happy to see me? Because I can’t keep up.  ❜

❛  Wouldn’t it be amazing, if we got away with it?  ❜

Keep reading

[soulthroes]

            that last ask i answered got me thinking but here’s a tiny headcanon: i still am not totally sold on what i want ahri’s age to be, but whether it’s by human standards or 1000-year-old-kumiho standards, i still stand by the hc that ahri is relatively young, and her use of magic could actually benefit from some practice and discipline. she is entirely self-taught, having been raised in the wild, and she essentially only knows the magic she does because of her latent ties to the magic of runeterra + her own base instincts. that isn’t to say she isn’t deadly- which she definitely is- but in a straight fight, i don’t think it’s unreasonable to say that ahri might lose to people who are more experienced, trained, or disciplined in their fighting style, magic or otherwise. a couple people that come to mind: zed, irelia, syndra.

            what this does mean is that ahri has a TON of room to improve and refine her magic as she ages  ─ which could mean massive potential growth over time, seeing as her life span is preeeeeetty long. 

[soulthroes]

“ Watch your tone. I’m doing you a favor. ”

            the hounds of noxus were baying at her heels. 

            they’d already given chase through a kilometre of dense forest, drunk off the scent of fresh blood. moments before, they had been driving native ionians from their quiet homes and taking steel to the ones that did not cooperate, but the enemy forces were soon captivated by the sight of such a rare ionian prize: a timid gleam of white fur emerging from the underbrush, shadowed in sharp relief against the flames of the home they had just razed to the ground. 

            and they were all the more enraged when she struck down a dozen of their men.

            she led them astray as best she could, sprinting through the foliage like a deadly guiding star, but the noxians are quick and relentless in their pursuit. two arrows slung in her direction scream at ahri’s ear, close enough for her heart to claw into her throat, but the next slices horizontal against her calf and brings her sprint to a stumble; another gouges across her forearm and pins her sleeve to the bark of an old oak. it is agony to rip it free and continue on.

            as she breaks into an expansive grove as fast as her limp will take her, the warband not far behind, she faces what seems- at first- to be her death. he blends into the darkness so well she nearly runs straight into him, a lamb sprinting to its slaughter: ahri brings herself to a jarring stop, wounds screaming in protest. her chin tips back, scratched and smudged with filth, pupils blown wide with shock. she is met with the impassive gleam of steel, a cold ember of red burning beneath. and she, like any wounded, cornered animal, does the only thing she knows how. she strikes.

            blue flame ignites at her fingertips. ahri heaves back her uninjured arm, teeth grit into a scowl, her chest heaving with exhaustion; despite her injured state, her unnatural speed persists, and she darts forward, tails a violent lash of white behind her. she will kill him and be done with it. his essence will go to the maggots for all she cares.

            his hand closes around her wrist, and all comes to a cold standstill.

            ahri’s composure breaks. she heaves a pained gasp and watches the magic at her fingertips sputter and choke out like a dying flame, swallowed by something more sinister. shadows coalesce over her flesh where he touches her, his grip firm enough that she fears her bones will give way; her arm begins to feel like it no longer belongs to her, an empty void of ache and cold settling in and draining her vitality. she snarls a guttural, wounded sound, fangs bared, but he seems to know it is nothing but a defiant display.

            ‘  watch your tone,  ’  he says. a trickle of cold runs down ahri’s spine.  ‘  i’m doing you a favor.  ’ 

            the man releases her, and all at once her knees buckle, as if he had sapped away the last of her body’s will to stand. he steps past her just as the noxian hounds burst through the treeline. they seem affronted by this new aggressor, but seeing that the grove is otherwise empty, are unswayed in their confidence. they raise their weapons with renewed bloodlust.

            ahri can do nothing but sit and watch the slaughter as it unfolds.

            the man in front of her melts into shadow, a darkness so hungry it swallows the moonlight. eight of them are dead before the warband realizes they are the lambs: they erupt with wounds so grotesque they are soon nothing more than flesh and blood. a spray of it touches ahri’s cheek, smears the front of her robes with gore. a ripple of primal fear travels through what still remains of their ranks. the once peaceful grove becomes soaked in noxian blood; their cries of retreat are silenced as soon as they come. eventually, quiet reclaims the forest.

            the grass she kneels in has begun to pool crimson. ahri stands, trembling with exertion, just as the man who had saved her life melts back into view. he says nothing, regarding the fallen noxians through a mask that conveys just as little. only once she steps forward, falling under a shaft of moonlight, does he seem to remember her presence. she can smell it now, no longer masked by her own desperate will to live: that same cloying darkness. it is an assault on her senses, and her tails pick up an anxious sway.

            ‘  … what are you ?  ’

[soulthroes]

            ok this is a really small random thought i just had, and i know like all of ahri’s art contradicts me, and the cinematic also contradicts me i’m pretty sure, but im putting my foot down : ahri doesn’t have four ears. she just doesn’t !  ahri does not have a set of human ears. her fox ears are her only pair and they function the way a pair of fox ears should. see a visual reference: here, and here.  (  i realize these images are Very anime but im sorry i could not find any scientific anatomical models on catgirls. ) to put it into writing, her ears are positioned on her head in such a way that the sides of the ears extend down to more or less where the human earlobe would naturally rest. you’d only really be able to see this if she had no hair, and ahri can’t actually put her hair up in a proper high ponytail bc her ears would get all caught and in the way, so the ‘base’ of her ears are pretty much always covered.

            ahri’s sense of hearing is much more sensitive than that of a regular humans, so her having four ears really does not make a whole lot of sense in terms of level of hearing, not to mention how would that affect her centre of balance ?  i just don’t get it. two ears only.

[luzdanaee]

Drew my girl ahri :>

[soulthroes]

            while i do follow ahri’s new lore, i think the old - lore theme of ahri ‘ wanting to be human ’ is one that persists; in this case, it wouldn’t be a literal change she’s looking for ( there is no magical transformation that’s going to come along and make her a regular mortal ) but rather a mental / moral transformation. from the wiki page on kumihos  :  ‘ some tales say that if a kumiho abstains from killing and eating humans for a thousand days, it can become human. ’

            ahri hopes to become human in the sense that she hopes one day to feel more than beast. her existence up to a very recent point has been that of a mostly self - serving creature, without even a tribe to call her own, and although she is more than well aware that mankind can be selfish and cruel, she is also fascinated by their ability to band together and survive hardship through their strong sense of community. this would still explain why some vastaya like xayah- who have come to distrust humans, in a general sense- would see ahri’s desire to mingle among them as ill - advised or even traitorous. 

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

…and my heart, which is very big, I promise it is very large, a monster of sorts, takes it all in – all in comes the fury of love.

Anne Sexton, from The Big Heart (via symurgh)