#martyrka

[khimerism]

a summoning from @martyrka​:  ’ there’s no freedom to be found for one such as me ’ / misc starters

her eyes move to focus on the miqo’te, lips curled up at the edges, one a little more than the other as her tail sways, she’s clearly amused by the drivel that’s being spouted. freedom can always be found, it just depends on what you’re willing to sacrifice for it. 

❝ do you truly believe that or is that a limitation placed on you, whether by yourself or another, that you refuse to break through? ❞ she hums softly, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair back from the miqo’te’s face. ❝ sweet thing, there is always freedom within our grasp, you just need to reach out and take it, so what’s stopping you? ❞

[salveticn-a]

@martyrka​ asked : ❰❰ MEDIC ❱❱   sender bandages receiver’s wounds

he could take care of himself . as far as it concerned him , he could take care of her as well , and yet not a limb dared move or flinch as the other tended to his wounds --- the aftermath of his recklessness . souls from across the star would think of him as a composed individual at first glance , one with his head on his shoulders , only to be left with their jaws to the ground upon realizing of just how strong and stubborn he tended to be .

and , as consequence , he was met with his head handed to him ... sometimes .

mismatched hues curiously peered upward to meet hers , his arm stiffened and still to ascertain that the other healed it without a trouble . he could take care of himself ; he could have healed it himself --- but the warmth he felt when somebody else tended to him was indescribable . he felt cared , adored ...

“ that should do it . ”   he murmured , moving his arm to test the bandages . they had been nicely applied , his arm safely wrapped . it stung a little if he moved it , but elidibus assumed it was normal .   curving his lips into a smile , the youth’s soul swelled warmly .   “ thank you ! ”

[enavant]

4’11 :)

❥  @martyrka  :  SEND ME YOUR MUSE’S HEIGHT && I’LL COMPARE IT TO MY OWN’S!

she’s wittle !! 🥺🥺🥺

[hopeunto]

                                                           𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐚  / @martyrka​

without a warning, cora lifts a hand up to raha’s forehead, moving a strand of red hair from his face, carefully tucking it behind his ear. & even as she moves her hand back, she says nothing; simply smiles at him, encouraging him to continue talking as he did before.

​                                                   𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝  /  𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈

These walls were accustom to the echoing reverb of his voice by this point. Even without proper knowledge of the topic at hand there were always speculations, theories, remnants and bits of the seldom knowledge he does know (typically from the plethora of books he has read, from the voices he’d eavesdrop upon) that he was eager to share, regardless of the fruitfulness — and who really knows what exactly could incite a burning lightbulb in ones head had he said just the right thing and just the sliver of that domino effect falling perfectly into place was thrilling enough for him. It’d take one hell of a force to really deter him whenever he went on about anything and everything all at once, so it comes as a complete shock to him when a hand so thoughtlessly brushes his hair back. His words trail off quieter, and quieter until they were nothing short of stutters — and all he can do is blink, his mouth parted. G’raha mouths the soundless implication that he was trying to find words still left in the air, yet nothing came from it. 

Her touch was like fire and he was a moth glued to the flame. All he could do was stare until that rising heat met his face and he was burning. It takes several more blinks, the whip of his ears and the aimless shifting of his body for him to regain a semblance of composure. “ A-ahem! R-right, so, as I was.. ” Saying... saying... What was he talking about again?