#strikefed

[nilnox-blog]

          ❝ please, you can rest now, ❞ gentle voice carries as her hand sets upon his upper arm. the space between blonde brows creases with worry for the stranger. when she had come to the village with limbs weary from travel she hadn’t expected to be recognized immediately ( thin hope, her visage and voice shown across every possible media in eos ) knew what it was for the moment she saw the fear in citizen’s eyes.

           the sickness was coming faster, darkness crawling from the corners of the world and lunafreya did not wish to think on the day when she wouldn’t arrive in time. as it was she withdraws from stranger before her. allows a tired smile to give what hope she can in the moment to him.

            ❝ you are safe, i promise you. i am lady lunafreya nox fleuret. and you are? ❞

@strikefed​ liked for a starter

[moriibund-blog]

gerard  lacroix is  a  minor  inconvenience.        he  is:     the  guy  that’s  had  his  hourglass  reconstructed  with  bare  hands,    and  sand  replenished   with  gilted  specks;    the  man  that’s  been  kissed  by  death  and  reemerged thriving.        the  problem:      his  grave  is  already  marked,   headstone  planted  amidst  putrefying  earth,    but  his  soul  refuses  to  vacate  despite   it   rightfully  belonging  to  the  underworld.   at  best,      the  guardian of  hell  is  vexed.    

❛    if  you  had  the  option  of  a  painless death,    would  you  be  more  inclined  to  take  it?    ❜         he’s  standing  there  with  sinewed   arms  folded  across his  chest,    an  air  of  nonchalance  encompassing him.    he  asks,    in  part,    because  this  harvest  could  be  easy.    and,   in  part  it’s  because  if  the  answer  is  no,  if  his  offer  of  peaceful  surrender  is  refused,   there’s  no  calling   uncle.      there  will  be  no  stopping  cerberus  if  abraded  fingers  must  wring  gerard’s  neck  just  to  bring  him  home.    if  that's  what  it  comes  to,  he  won't  apologize.     /     @strikefed.

[nilnox-blog]

~forehead touch~

these soft moments // not accepting my gay heart can’t take more

              he’s supposed to be resting but when lunafreya comes into the tent she’s met by eyes that remind her of her home. green of rainy forests, steep mountains and her stomach drops with the memory of her standing on the edge of a CLIFF before her mother pulled her back. lunafreya steps over the threshold into the room. her limbs are drawn close to her body, hesitation as she waits for question. for him to bid her to leave but instead, he only watches her. heart is a thrumming BIRD in her throat.

               she takes a seat beside him and sets her hand on his side ( to make sure sickness hasn’t returned, comforted by the steady beating of his heart ) in dim light the blue of her eyes is almost reflective. sky to green of trees, lunafreya leans forward on impulse rather than rational THOUGHT. closes her eyes just before she makes contact with his skin. knows to take caution with the touch but in quiet moment she takes a deep breath. withdraws hand and straightens back up when she mind catches up to action.

             ❝ i... will check on you in the morning. rest well. ❞