#otkroveniye

[nyanyazuka-blog]

D4 corrin or G3 a actual corn B)

I love to not write my drafts doodles - Accepting

A fashion master and a fashion disaster

[ushinattakioku]

Paint

There’s a lot Caramia and Kyrie won’t tell her, but that’s okay. She doesn’t need to know it all. ‘I’ trust them, so she ensures herself, taking to her own tasks, sticking to a schedule she can manage within this world of turmoil and sudden changes. Don’t get in their way, keep the rank-and-file set in stone, be yourself, of course, but make sure the paintings stay their own.

“Fuka-san, be careful who you decide to get ‘chummy’ with, and don’t say anything unnecessary.”

Yet, they haven’t kicked her to the curb. They’ve given her a place to stay, a job, and… and she’s made friends here because of it. Tomorrow, so many days in advance, she has a spark of faith in what can become. Such as now, this is proven. She hopes at least, as she sits with legs folded beneath her, a canvas propped before her, vibrant colors at her disposal. 

A soft stroke and… 

Picture perfect. 

“Kamui-san,” Fuka smiles, “Thank you for today.”

She brushes a strand of her hair out of her face, not really minding if the paint smudges against her skin a bit. She can clean that off. For a moment, she purses her lips, examining every last feature of Kamui. If this is to be right, then she has to go all out! This… is something she wants to do for her. 

“You’re so pretty…” she says softly, “and nice! It’s amazing, how much you can do.”

Brush stroke after brush stroke, Fuka thinks about how great it is to have friends, friends like Kamui. There’s so little Fuka feels she can do in such a scary situation, she realizes, but something is better than nothing. A painting, a portrait, it’s not even of Kamui herself, more so an inspired ‘thank you.’ Flower fields, a gentle picture that could, hopefully, bring a little color to a room. 

“This isn’t very good, but it’s still a gift for you! This is for everything you’ve done so far, and all the work you still must do. Please, be careful, Kamui-san.”

Two worlds, ones that Kamui lives. That of a SWAT Leader, and that of a pivotal part of a family. Fuka… better knows that face of Kamui, big sister and occasional patron of the cafe she works at. Perhaps she can only paint a picture so well, put together such feelings in a way only she can understand, but she doesn’t set down her brush. Not yet. 

Melding and blending, every step. It can be wobbly, but it’s fine. This is someone Fuka believes she can trust in, because Kamui means what she says. It’s in her eyes, the tireless concern, endless worry, the thin, red lines that mark sleepless toils. A good person, it’s okay. 

Fuka is happy to be able to have this chance, and her time too. Even if her friend still has her mind on X-Day, she wants to give her room to relax, to breathe, to remember that there’s so much light in life that is still there, that there’s so much brightness she’s saving. 

No matter how thin the lines are, no matter how grey life can seem, Kamui feels like a beacon to Fuka, a serene hope. Truly, this is the image Kamui paints in her wake. Fuka is merely soaping it up, watching in awe how powerful people can be. It inspires her, makes her want to continue pushing herself to be the best she can be. To add all the colors they can back to the world, to grasp the future they can be happy in. 

That’s what her big sister wanted, isn’t it?

“For being my friend, this is to the future. I believe in you.”

[mikannotaiki]

i lost track of wat i sent LMFAO IF I SENT THIS ONE ALREADY....... Gaze

So powerful, the way merely a look or two can mean so much more. Once, he heard Caeldori sighing (rather dreamily, not that he’d tell anyone about it) on the topic of how eyes are the “portals to the soul” or… something like that, at least. It had been some sort of fancy, deep sort of thing and while that much mightn’t make the most sense, might not click exactly, he does know that there is something special. Maybe it’s his lack of experience - or interest? - that makes it simpler. Or… is it more complicated? 

What… does he see when he looks at her, into her eyes? Do those sparks that Caeldori talks about fly? Is that what he feels every time he’s with her? Or is that just something… that comes up because she’s trustworthy, as leader of the army he’s serving? 

Her eyes, gentle, that’s the world in them, isn’t it? Within them, he can see himself, becoming stronger, her passion and care being the force that pushes him forward. There’s only honesty, certainty, like it can last forever. Which somehow, through all his energy, his preparedness, his rough’n’tumble, wilderness at his back times, he’s fine with. 

Is this what’s in those novels his friend reads? The ones she’ll mention while they do patrols? Sure, he tends to be a don’t knock it ‘til you try it kind of guy, but he’s still not going to read and find out. He’d rather, figure it out by living his days, one step at a time, one adventure a day keeps life steady, he’d say!

All he does know is that he doesn’t mind moments like these, so long as it’s her involved. Maybe that’s why Father and Mother are so strong, have been able to stay that way through this war, because of whatever this kind of feeling is. He doesn’t feel the need to speak, nor does he move so quickly as to throw this moment off - yet. 

Right, this stare is full of promises, of training left to be be had, of hikes and hunts and days remaining. Who knows how things ended up this way, and who knows who approves, but he’s ready to try and put the memory in his mind. He doesn’t need an explanation for the specifics, action and time will do. 

“Y’know, Corrin, not sure if anyone’s said this to you, they probably have though! But there’s a lot of fire in your eyes, and that makes ya really reliable! I’m glad I can count on you as a training partner, because I know, with you, I can become way stronger!”

And it really has to be her, doesn’t it? Corrin and her reassuring air, Corrin and the way her being there sparks interest in something that’s beyond him. 

[cfncbility-blog]

     walk behind me and i will lose my light.      walk in front of me and i will be left behind.      walk by my side and i will give you my life.

     private and highly selective corrin &&. marx      from fire emblem fates.

     portrayed by alex and leilani

[mikannotaiki]

Hands

Toughened from the elements, hardened from tightened grip, the stories are countable on each of his fingers - probably more. He’s lived as many days as many of those born years before him in the army, due to how Deeprealms work. Days of grabbing his naginata and tracing and locking fish in his stare, knee deep in water, give these digits of his character, reddened at the tips and just barely covered at the palms, this is how he’s always been. 

From the brief visits of his father, where roughhousing had been… more… common as a child, to the climbing of mountains and scaling of rivers within the pocket world he had the chance to call… a place of living, Shiro has gotten all too used to reaching out and gripping the land, with holding tight. 

Ball into a fist, he pumps himself up upon another catch. Being part of the army means pulling his own weight, not just alone, but as part of a team. In order to beat his father, to even stand a little to the legacy of Ryoma, High Prince of Hoshido, holder of the legendary weapon Raijinto, he must keep pushing himself, yanking back on whatever life throws next, using these very hands of his. 

But what of hers? Slender and tiny within his own, yet so strong they can lift the army, the nation, the entire world, yes, what tales might they bring? From her, to him, days of training, back and forth shouting and never giving in, what will they tell him? That he’s enough? Good enough to take on a whole army by himself? 

Okay… maybe not that reckless, but the feeling that swells up, bubbles and bursts through his entire spirit, it makes him feel that way, you know? 

Her kindness, her security, the way one look from her can motivate him tenfold, she really is the best training partner ever! He has to thank her, and the hopes she garners at the point of a finger, at the raise of a blade, man, he’s got to thank her for allowing him to continue to stand beside her. 

“Thanks for the confirmation, Corrin! I gotcha in the next battle! Your back is guarded so all arms are free to move forward!”

And she has a resolve that flutters through the way she conducts her handshakes. The strongest have it. His aunts, his uncle, his father, his cousin too, even with uncertainty, even when the soul is unsure of the future, resolve still shows through, even if the holder has yet to know of its surfacing. But Corrin… she is all too aware of what she wants, of the fate of herself and the course of war must be changed. Her lead is worthy to follow, her might calling loyalty to her side, and Shiro… he remains. 

And what of the way her grip tightens in the night, when late night patrols and hunting turns into a take-turns watch and camp-out. What anguishes her mind and spills into reality into twists and pain? Are these her toils of war? Where her pursuits of peace are stained time and time again by the falling of allies, the conflict of once-friends turned sworn-enemies? Are these the fears and secrets she’d never want to burden those around her with? 

The ones he’ll stay beside her for, the ones he’ll never want to let her let go for, even if guard he must. He’d never judge the way her pressures sheet his own pale. He’d never try her for her hidden feelings. It’s not like he’d know why she thought the way she did. He hasn’t seen the things she’s seen. Far as he knows, the world he’s lived in is small compared to a nation’s weight of troubles. 

But he wants to help her, to be reliable to her. This is his training partner, the first to try his catches, and his friend. So with his hands, rough and trained for hunting and sparring, for learning what battles are, he’ll yet learn what else he can do, to lift her up, to make sure that no matter what terrorizes her, what ails her, he’s going to be there! 

“Hey, listen, next day you have some free time, and I don’t have duties, there’s a spot close by that’s great for climbin’! Kiragi showed it to me, but man, the view’s amazing! I think it’s just the sorta break ya need!”

[ushinattakioku]

Life Wings Photograph Alone

{ ONE WORD PROMPTS -- ALWAYS ACCEPTING !

“Thank you for coming over today, Kamui-san. I’ll be in your care!”

Of course, typically, it would likely be the other way around, in most cases. After all, this is her house, but if Fuka’s learned anything from her experiences here, it’s that Kamui is very reliable, and that she often seems to lean on her for support. Does she believe something else might happen to her, even if it’s just at home? Does she belief Kamui might have to suddenly leave, being called in, because of an incident related to Adonis?

That much is unclear, but Fuka truly is grateful that Kamui can have a moment of rest like this.

Welcome into part of my life, Kamui-san…

The other part of what current is the life of Fuka is a bit on the… messier side. Not even she really understands it, other than the fact that she works at a cafe for men who know her older sister.

I want… to keep living…

Fuka can’t do what Kamui does. That’s too scary, too out of range for her skill set. But she can keep pushing forward, spreading her wings and finding her own place in this really wonky world. Coming here so suddenly was life being pushed down a rabbit hole, but she’s, she’s doing alright.

“Ah..! Caesar-san’s being really good..!”

She says this, but he’s jumping after her feet as she moves about the room. Yet, it stills surprises her, overjoys her. She once again takes the simplest things and lifts them up to mean a lot! As if in tune with her over-expression, Caesar stops, turning his head away.

“Is he embarrassed?”

“Eh? Caesar-san is Caesar-san!” Perhaps she didn’t hear Kamui’s question right, or maybe that would have been her answer all along, but regardless, Fuka says just that and then moves on. Regardless, she smiles at Kamui, “But see! I’m not alone at all! Even if Kyrie-san, Caramia-san, and Axel-kun don’t stop by a whole lot,” maybe that’s for the best, Fuka, “I have Caesar-san here with me! And sometimes Okazaki-san is home, next door!!” That could or could not be a good sounding thing, Fuka, but let’s just keep going. “And of course, I have friends like you!”

She smiles brightly, “So than--” but she cuts herself off, whirling around and stepping toward the kitchen, “I-I hope I didn’t burn the tea!”

Who knows if Fuka actually knows if that’s not quite how that works either, but no matter. She strives off, ready to be a great host and support Kamui’s comfort here!

She returns to see Kamui looking at a photograph that’s hung on the wall -- one of the few Fuka currently possesses. “Here you go, Kamui-san!”

“Is this..?”

Fuka peers over, and nods, enthusiastically, “That’s my big sister and me! It’s thanks to her that I’m here, because she opened up the doors for me to get out there!” All the reasoning behinds it, Fuka doesn’t know at all. “I keep it there because I don’t want to forget her. That seems really weird, but I think she might slip away if I don’t...”

Fill the walls with more people her soaring brings her in contact with, fill every corner of the scrapbook of her life with all the colors of the rainbow. Fuka is as she likely always will be. Curious, driven, she alone can live her life.

Somehow remembering to set the tea tray down, and somehow not spilling everything on someone, Fuka grabs Kamui’s sleeve. Comfortable, grateful, she doesn’t want her to disappear either. Don’t leave her alone. She doesn’t seem to let the severity of X-Day bother her openly, but even a reckless, happy-go-lucky girl has her fears.

She doesn’t want to lose her friends.

“You’re a really great big sister!!”

[nyanyagi-blog]

EXAMINE! contact list

→ investigation : start !      ↳ closed !

   THERE WASN’T A time your contact list has… been substantially full. it’s because of your lifestyle, who you are as a person. you’re rather selective of the people you keep in contact with, the people that you choose to contact and save in your phone. considering your history, perhaps it makes sense that your contact list just fits within a single page on your phone. 

   you remember your very first cellphone. during the peak of your rebellious phase, your homecoming each night bloodied and bruised had spawned worry within your parents and they entrusted you with a phone for the sake of in cases. it’s not like it mattered, since most of the root causes of the injuries spawned from reasons worth not to be called for. the list had consisted of your parents, your mother and father, your older brother (again, out of necessity, you don’t recall purposely calling him first), and your home phone number at the time. 

   there were other people that called you, but you judged them not to be worth being logged into your phone (blurred faces within faint memories, images of past fellow rival delinquents, ones that may or may not still be alive, perhaps better forgotten). you always remembered the numbers and associated them with faces instead. it was too much hassle to log them into your phone anyways.

   you also remember when your first cellphone broke. anticlimactic as it was, your phone having slipped out of your pocket onto the concrete below your feet, initially cracking the corner. the delinquent you were against in the moments of shuffling away from your grip, had whirled their momentum into a forceful kick against the phone on the ground, further shattering it into pieces. you felt no attachment, it didn’t matter anyways. 

   your next cellphone wasn’t until your first week recruited within the first investigation unit. it was actually minegishi that insisted you purchase another cellphone to be able to stay in touch with the others from the unit. again, out of necessity you found yourself adopting another phone. the contact list consisted of merely the other members of the first investigation unit, and the occasional other member of the police force. shiraishi had been one of them– and fellow kamui of the first unit, but again, you found the hassle of purposely saving contacts a hassle, and simply associated numbers with faces and names instead. 

   in reality, you realize, perhaps your contacts list would be more abundant if you made the conscious effort. unfortunately, you’ve drilled in the notion of detachment, initially your family and now from others– that it isn’t necessary–. you’re not fond of letting others in, nor expressing much of yourself to begin with. conversations through the phone were always curt– anything classified would always be discussed in person, so frankly, the usage of a phone became strictly a formality. 

   after you left the investigation unit, you had your phone wiped. following regulations, you erased all data and past connections to police force– the very little of it that you did have on your phone, at least. as you gradually recruit others into your new x-day investigation unit, your phone is logged with new contacts. understandable, if you were all going to be continuously working together to crack the case. 

   there aren’t many people saved, but for some odd reason, it feels oddly more full than ever before. granted while at the investigations unit it was literally at it’s most, but– it was different. whether you wanted to consciously accept it or not, but the importance of the saved contacts on your phone this time, were heavier, and held more value to you personally. 

   you can’t help a sigh as you scroll through your recent messages–, rambles from enomoto about tonight’s dinner, sasazuka’s occasional update (but moreso doughnut orders), shiraishi’s ambiguous riddled messages, and– and, hoshino’s recent message that she would be coming later tonight.

   reasoning for why it felt different doesn’t come easily. was it because of the gravity of their situation– they were in a tight serious situation that required a intensity– but from the recent messages from your colleagues, it could be interpreted otherwise. …you close your phone, sliding it back into your pocket, as your hand reaches to tug a cigarette nimbly instead.

   it was as simple as that. there was no need for deep analysis, despite the seriousness laced around their group, it came with, familiarity and an odd sense of belonging. a feeling you purposely drove away from, had unwillingly found you again. it isn’t something you’re used to, spurring a… strange sensation within your chest. 

   you’re used to your contact list being bland, but as your phone chimes a new message, you find that– you don’t necessarily dread opening to read the text. is it something you want to get used to? probably not. it’s better to shun it away, but–, reasoning with yourself–, work must get done.

   …work, you say, despite it weighing heavily in your mind. 

[jijiizuki-blog]

@otkroveniye

He could hear the sound of a hammer pounding down metal. The noise wouldn’t stop, it just kept going on and on and on. However, it wasn’t an unpleasant noise, no. It was as if the noise was telling him to wake up and greet somebody. Mikazuki Munechika couldn’t help but chuckled, so somebody finally managed to forge him? If they put that much effort into wishing for him to appear, this old man perhaps should reward them. Taking a step forward to the light that was before him, he opened his eyes.

Before him was a young girl with ash-blonde hair and ruby eyes. How rare, was she a foreigner? Regardless, this young girl is to be Mikazuki’s Master. 

“Mikazuki Munechika. They call me Mikazuki on account of the many patterns on my blade. Please take care of me.”

It was his typical line that he says. Nothing special. 

“Now then, are you my new master, beautiful young lady?” 

He wasn’t wrong. It was his first impression on her. A beautiful girl. He felt a little honor to be forged by such beauty, but his life was already filled with beautiful things.