#noxianqueen

[ofironloyalty]

noxianqueen replied to your post “and last before i go to rest, when i am saying ‘ handling negativity...”

THE VOLUME IN THIS POST? IS ASTRONOMICAL

apologies if i came off a bit cranky in that post last night but i am more exhausted / saddened than anything else.

it’s just that even after a small hiatus most of the interactions were all about ‘ try to irritate and make tianna and d.emacians look bad as much as possible ‘. like even when she is civil, for some reason she is misunderstood as if she is attacking or being ironic to someone, which is not true.

it’s like as if i have my muse going to your LB and be like ‘ you are arrested, i hate you and region and i will remind you that every chance i get ‘. that’s what i get since i have created the blog tbh, both ic and ooc.

like, if my followers don’t like d.emacia then please don’t bug me about it. i am here as a hobby, i am not remotely that hardcore of a fan to be ‘ living for lore ‘. i am here for chill writing, that’s all.

and seeing other characters who have done x 10 the crimes getting praised instead just . . feels weird. not because they are getting praised because d.emacians are the ‘ black sheep ‘ while having their good traits erased on purpose.

i just want to develop my muse beyond just the armor and fights. that’s all i ask.

[noxian-rose]

You can’t just lock me in a mirror and not give me anything to do, really this is unjust and cruel even of myself

CLEANING OUT THE ASK BOX . |  

sounds like a personal problem there evaine :^) why don’t you fiddle your thumbs or knit a sweater or something like normal people do in their free time . gosH eVaine i don’t pay you to sass me through the mirror . 

[weavedstone-blog]

                                      you could break the earth.                                                    you could protect more than your tribe.                                         never again will you be a weapon of war.

for @noxianqueen                                         

[revenantcrowned]

❛ Stay. I want you to stay. ❜

OUTLAST II STARTERS.

Oh, that wasn’t fair - she knew it wasn’t fair, to cling to him and press her face to the small of his back and wrap her arms round his waist so sweetly when he was to march again the next morning. 

(It was only unfair because he knew that she knew that he wanted to stay and didn’t know how.)

He breathes out, lets the air shudder from his lungs in a slow huff that could almost be ragged if he were anyone else, and he reaches back to tug her away, pick her up and settle her in his lap. “If I do, you will hate me in the morning all the more for leaving,” he says, low and somber, because it’s the truth. 

(It’s easier that she hate him for the two graves in the shadow of the Bastion, all too fresh. It would hurt them both more if she didn’t.)

So he shakes his head and takes her hand in his much larger one instead, bowing low to brush his lips across her knuckles, so gentle it hurts. “Try to get some sleep, Evaine. I will see you again before I go.”

[narcisisto]

noxianqueen replied to your post “me, after being awake for 24 hours: makes a shitty meme me, again: do...”

Yeah That’s why swain hides his hand now He’s embarrassed

he thought it’d be funny in the spur of the moment a friendly jab. a friendly zap and then he realized his mistake far too late

[jericho-swaggins]

noxianqueen replied to your post “not gonna be very active today”

Smooch

( ˘ ³˘)♥

[miighted]

There is a blossoming expectation, the way she mocks and disdains all orders by secretly aiding the crownsguard. Watching for them to ride with the day, or set just as quickly. She has long known secrets, and she knows how exquisite she looks draped in blue and gold. There is little animosity in her voice as she smiles, despite the venom that keeps her heart beating. As any Demacian advisor should, she appears—hopeful. “I do wish to brief you once you’ve managed your barring, Sir.”

                Carefully, Garen unwraps the bandages that had been hastily tied around his hand and forearm whilst he had been on the battlefield. Luckily, it was his left hand that had been wounded, but he still required both to wield his great sword. He had continued to do so despite the pain, but now that the battle had been arduously won, he was left with a searing pain and heavy soreness in his hand like it was sitting underneath several massive weights. A beast that one of the Noxians had seen fit to collar and ride into battle had bit his hand, but only released the Might after he had slain it. It was only now in this moment of respite that Garen had the chance to truly examine the wound. 

                He looks up from staring down at his marred hand when the adviser approaches, the hint of dark circles under his eyes as exhaustion from fighting for nearly three days straight begins to wear down on the Might ( none of his soldiers had to match his unnatural perseverance, but he was still human, he still had his limits; the longest Garen had ever fought without leave from the battlefield was four days ). He nods after the adviser speaks and begins to wrap fresh bandages around his hand and forearm. 

                “Yes, of course,” he answers, “I will be with you momentarily. I must see to my wounded before we speak, but if it is dire, accompany me and tell me as we move. Time is precious, adviser.”  

[noxianking]

“were you not aware I was capable of playing music?” She chuckles, moving to sit next to him. The harp is smaller than she’s used to at her manor, big enough to be laid in her lap, perhaps this could be considered romantic. She plays for a while, stealing looks from him and finally, simply stopping to laugh at his expressions. “Are you intrigued by the music or my ability? I do like to keep you interested.”

He can’t help himself.  He likes to come off as if he’s been jaded by his old age (old age--he’s only 46!  And he’s almost certain he’ll never truly know how old Evaine is...), but the music soothes him, like it did as a child.

“My mother played the harp.  A grand one in the foyer of our estate.  It was a beautiful thing, really.”  He unconsciously looks in the direction the massive instrument used to be.  The foyer always seemed so empty without it.  Perhaps he’ll replace it with a piano one day.

“I had it melted down when she was executed.”