and the doors of elysion open once more.

independent & semi selective lafrenze do not forget. written by mar

[776116-deactivated20161017]

Jes’ soul hunter Lafrenze design was THE DEAL 

I got so much excited with it that I

[queenofween-deactivated20240114]

in which lafrenze goes on a super rad quest to banish all of the dead who escaped hades back were they belong!!! also she uses alte rose’s sweet spellbook to do rad magic things like have eurydice as her sidekick heck yea

[mikanforever-blog]

[unsungprayers]

necroephiliac:

“I am sure you did. —— with due reason, of course. You seem to have recalled something unpleasant.” It is in the nature of secrets that they be stripped bare: she has a heart that sits cloistered waiting to be wrenched open, and he feels the weight of its burdens; knows the pressure of its temptations. “Experience makes a nest out of memory, and often do their discrepancies burrow through into action…expression.” The prince parts from her, moves quietly away where the gentle murmur of water —— pouring forth into a crystal goblet, fills the room. He returns (wearing sympathetic grins, all hollowed out) with new refreshment in hand, and proffers a drink to Lafrenze.

“It wasn’t meant for you, however.” That is her quiet reply; it was not meant for him, but another. Her eyes follow as he saunters away from her, lips pursed together. The brief touch of content caused for her heart to race, betrayal and pain engraved in tiny annoying sequences in her heart. Spilling her heart toward him wasn’t apart of her plans tonight. Clearing her throat, she inclines her head, hand taking the stem of the goblet and she sips from it daintily, “Thank you...” 

[unsungprayers]

necroephiliac:

Conscience slips and merges yet again from the black; staring down at open palms, the prince peers up upon himself - in the flesh where no mirror can replicate. Heavens! there it is! his honey blond hair and glacial blue eyes, he almost thought himself handsome while in another body not his own, but in his daughter’s very guise. “…ah….ah…how delightfully terrifying — “

@unsungprayers

She’s read about it, in the tomes she’s smuggled into the castle, with an illusion cast upon them so no one but she can see. Refining this spell took time and patience, and complete concentration – and the fact her Father was in on it amuses her. Seeing herself with the eyes of another (namely, her father’s own icy blue ones) is a bit off putting. But she keeps her composure,  not speaking for a few minutes and exhales. The weight off her chest feels strange, as do a number of other things.

“...How are you feeling?” She speaks softly, uncharacteristic of how the Prince normally acts, with gloved hand outstretched toward the other who now possesses her body. She’s certain she’s said the incarnation correctly, and yet, she has her doubts, there were minor things she messed up on. 

[unsungprayers]

necroephiliac

Reality falls on deaf ears as the prince snatches the woman’s wrist, raising it high. “You possess an ornament most curious for one such as yourself to carry.” Guilt-ridden sneers bloom — they sharpen as he turns wide-eyed, as he conceives a dagger to cut off the strings which bind the pendant to her wrist. (scary, it’s scary!) “ — I must know, what is it?” Be it decades or more, the rustic shine of some past commitment lures him still to its light, and to this day remains —— madly recognizable. He shreds it string by string and tears it asunder until he is left with the gold ——  with the silence of a smothered retribution. ——— “Explain to me….the details on how you obtained it.”

His grasp is tight, which causes the young woman to wince as he raises it high for all to see. A gasp tumbles from her lips, and attempts to claw at him, attempting to get it back but the guards hold her back, making her unable to do so. She’s frustrated, how arrogant of him to take what he wants. All nobles, they must be disgusting, lined with greed – she needed to get it back. It was the last thing given to her by her grandmother, after all, the woman who had taken her in. “It is mine,” She boldly declares, biting down on her lip, preventing any curses from slipping past, “...give it back! why should I tell you my own business?”

[unsungprayers]

necroephiliac

Jealousy smolders incognito, and he silences her request with a fabricated regret, tossing the book into an ash-filled fireplace. “It is quite enough, Lafrenze. I will have this place taken care of, myself.” It is by ill conviction where smiles are born off false promise —— when his head is in the black, wrapped layer after layer in keen disgust. Yet the prince lets a smidgen of gratitude to manifest - so to say that he will take every pleasure dismembering all the remnants of what is left - have it return to dust and soot as ought to be while mother nature takes the rest. “……leave everything as they are. I’m afraid we will not taking anything back with us.”

Despite them being father and daughter, this place, her former home brought her nostalgia. She feels her heart sink when he throws it haphazardly toward the fire place, almost carelessly; the ancient tome makes a hefty thump against the stone fire place, causing for the ash to dissipate, adding to the air of the unused cottage in the midst of the woods. It’s only natural for her to be rebellious, while they shared a connection, by blood no less, she didn’t like what she was hearing. The expression he bares causes her discomfort, but she makes her best effort to not let it show. She remains firm, not wanting to let go of the matter so easily.

“But why?” Her brows furrow downward, while her lips purse together, “the contents could prove useful for the Kingdom.” 

For the greater good, she believes, in case something, whether it be famine or plague washes over his land. And besides, in these changing times it could bring her great comfort. He forgets she’s grown independently and freely from the clutches of social norms for all these years; it won’t be easy to make her kneel like a dog. “...especially, if you were to grow ill due to something infectious, I would prefer not to become alone again..” 

...And she’s only told him bits and pieces of her lost history, there were a handful of other things that she desired to quell the dead. A role that she secretly chose to keep under wraps. “At least some of them, please Father?”

[unsungprayers]

necroephiliac

There it is, there — the treacherous curl of his lips and the blandishment found in his empyrean gaze; mirroring a crystal clear heaven built to blind. “….I am always certain of my Kingdom’s future, if not curious.” And he is no less amorous to watch the sun make its rounds, witness dusk sweep in to set the maiden free from her flaming gown; like his dead rose - his raison d’etre most beloved suffused in red ( in fire, in blood, in wrath ). With fingers inching closer to lift the wet fabric laying near his side, the prince whispers under unwavering charms. “…and what of you? will your future bode well to reflect the red you don?”

Steady your breath, she gently breathes, a quiet sigh blown from her lips, trying to find distractions elsewhere, anywhere. Whether it be in the rain being pelted ‘gainst the carriage or the slow bumps in the road along the way. How arrogant, she believes as she listens to his foolish words leave his treacherous lips. The voices of the dead are faint, but there is a foreboding tone associated with it. Danger, her eyes are no longer blinded to the malice this world contained and she’s unable to control it – she is no Goddess who struck fear into the lives of millions.  She remains still, attention away from his gaze, as she rubs at her wrists now. 

“I have no interest in those affairs,” She replies flatly, keeping her tone steady, he didn’t need to know of her sins, “for I prefer to not overwhelm myself – while it’s tempting, I’d prefer to face it boldly in the present.” And what damage could she fix now that she’s been taken hostage? Only time could tell. Magic could be used, but she’d prefer not to be killed against her own will. Rage will only blind her, she feels, it’s already happened before. “ ....time will only tell what I shall face.”

[014eules]

Been a while since I drew some KagePro fanart T 7 T ));;

[madyd]

「返して」と嘆いたって

「もう嫌だよ」と哭いたって

[unsungprayers]

archivieren:

@unsungprayers from a Winter starter call here

“Oh!”

The witch walked onto her porch. It appeared as though her cottage had dropped her off someplace else while she slept, again. She caressed the wall by her door, wondering why her home was so restless lately, when she noticed a woman in red wandering through the snow.

“Excuse me, would you like to step inside for awhile? It’s rather cold out here.”

Sometimes she wished she wore heavier robes for the winter season, but finding the material and finding the coin to do so had been difficult. She tugs the red robe she wears, hoping to contain more warmth which proves fruitless when a breeze snakes around her loose fitting attire – a curse slips through the young witch’s lips and she goes to go through her bag to find her grandmother’s spell book to perhaps cast a spell to protect her from the eternal chill of the Earth. 

Her mid-rummaging is halted upon hearing a voice, one unfamiliar – which causes the albino to abruptly look upward to face a braided brunette and her grandiose cottage (––and out of thin air too, had she been so into her thoughts that she didn’t sense it?) Regardless of what brought them together, the white haired maiden gives the other a polite smile.

“Oh...?” Seeing her current situation, and the fact she can feel the chill from the Earth tickle at her bare skin, she decides to accept this invitation, “if you wouldn’t mind the company, Miss, then...I hope I am not disturbing you.?”

[unsungprayers]

–– ; 

[incompetxnce-archive-blog]

[unsungprayers]

incompetxnce:

Battler Ushiromiya has a sin. 

        His incompetence, 

              The failure to remember that sin,

                    Will cost him everything he loves.

                         W͕͕͗͗н͕͕͗͗e͕͕͗͗ɴ͕͗ ͕͗т͕͕͗͗н͕͕͗͗e͕͗ ͕͗S͕͕͗͗e͕͕͗͗α͕͕͗͗ɢ͕͕͗͗υ͕͕͗͗l͕͕͗͗l͕͕͗͗ѕ͕͗ ͕͗C͕͕͗͗r͕͕͗͗y͕͗ ͕͗т͕͕͗͗н͕͕͗͗e͕͕͗͗r͕͕͗͗e͕͗ ͕͗α͕͕͗͗r͕͕͗͗e͕͗ ͕͗ɴ͕͕͗͗o͕͗ ͕͗ѕ͕͕͗͗υ͕͕͗͗r͕͕͗͗v͕͕͗͗ι͕͕͗͗v͕͕͗͗o͕͕͗͗r͕͕͗͗ѕ͕͕͗͗.͕͗

Independent Battler Ushiromiya RP

Penned by Tenma

PERSONALS DO NOT REBLOG!

For the next five asks, my muse cannot tell a lie.

[unsungprayers]

Ah… If you are crying beyond the horizon, call on me anytime!

sound horizon starters / open

A huff leaves the sorcerer’s lips, while bemusement mars her features. She stares him down, not completely convinced by his words. She’s on her guard, last time she believed those words it allowed for the gates of Hades to be opened and to pour into the world of the living.

“Can I truly trust you, sir?” Her question is quiet, said in a hushed whisper; brows furrow downward while Lafrenze attempts to read the bard rouge.

[unsungprayers]

sound horizon starters! pt. 5

"I’m an idiot, so… I don’t know what to say at a time like this!"

"If a story that you can rewrite can be called a life,

Have I been burning down the present with true meaning?"

"Is it all right for me to be loved? To be honest… I’m afraid of being betrayed…"

"But that’s why our pain gives birth to new things."

"If I follow that procession of people, will I be able to reach you?"

"Every person is weak, and closes their eyes out of cowardice."

"The night’s still young!"

"I’m not very bright, I’m no good with words, and I’m not much to look at either. But I swear I will love you more than anyone else ever could…!"

"I made everyone around me my enemy and howled"

"Anyone who discriminates against people based on their outward appearance is shit…"

"If you get in my way, no matter who you are, I’ll bite you to death!"

"I’ve lived spewing out lies, like other people breathe…"

"Ah… If you are crying beyond the horizon, call on me anytime!"

[wnq-writers]

She was a fire but she didn’t burn steadily. She burned fast and bright, and all the people close to her, surrounded by her warmth, were left with cold ashes.

tinkermelon  (via wordsnquotes)