gone.

after careful consideration, i’ve decided that i’m going to be archiving this blog and moving my tsubaki to a new blog, so that i can get a fresh start, as it were. in addition, that new blog is going to be a lot more private, and i’m not going to be following everyone that i follow here right off the bat. i’m not going to disclose the reasons for this move, but i will say that if you’d like to follow me on my new blog, you’re more than welcome to like this post; i’ll follow you from the new blog if you do. 

@perfectaed

 What originally started as a reconnaissance mission into the heart   of the enemy soon turned into a slight detour, as the outlaw began to    watch the practice of the pegasus knights, the male soldiers’ muscles   shining as they thrusted their lances forward, the eyes of the archer   growing ever wider. Suddenly, the feel of the wooden hilt of a lance hit   her shoulder, the blade evidently clear in front of her, as she turned to   see the male.      “—I-I WASN’T snooping, I swear!”   Often acting idiotic was the best defense… ℕ✗ █║│➴

        FEIGNING INNOCENCE WOULD NOT get the girl much of anywhere, unfortunately. tsubaki has never been so easily duped, for one, and for another, well ----- given the girl’s origins ( read: given who her father just-so happens to be ), he knows better than to believe most anything that leaves her lips. he’d tapped her with the hilt of his weapon almost playfully, and his lips are curled into something of a polite smile ( she’s of nohrian blood, sure, but the nohrians had come to be his allies in a strange turn of events ), but make no mistake: he is no less wary in spite of this. brow furrows curiously and eyes narrow ever-so slightly as he regards her, taking in her obviously false defense.

     ❛  lady fortune smiles today ; how fitting that her fair finger of fate should point me to you ! as a chosen one …  i, ophelia dusk, offer my assistance in these dark times.    ❜ / @perfectaed​ ♥’d !

@perfectaed​ liked for a starter !

                                                “ Aren’t your fingers wrinkled yet? ”

         He is the first to break the silence with an elbow situated on the bath’s edge. There is no eye contact, and yet his words BOUNCE through the steam in a cringe-worthy echo. Tsubaki has been here longer than he, and already Takumi’s skin has begun to prune ( though his flushed cheeks are far more noticeable. )

                                                “ Shouldn’t you be going soon? ”

         HE CAN’T SEE THE OTHER male's face clearly enough to confirm it ( chalk it up to the steam of the hot springs they bathed in ), but if he had to guess at what expression adorned his features as he questioned him, tsubaki would say this: that his lips had to be turned into something of a scowl, and that his cheeks were undoubtedly flushed, though, by no ( or mostly no ) means was this in part of the heat they subjected themselves to. he cannot help but to smile to himself, to chuckle in response to the other’s question. he keeps his distance, of course ----- but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have at least a bit of fun with him, did it? ( no, on the contrary, it probably meant he should, for he wasn’t in range of a thwack to the side of his head. )

        ❛  i should hope not. after all, i’d only arrived a few minutes before you did, prince takumi. skin doesn’t wrinkle that quickly! ❜  ah, one could almost detect the smirk he wore just by listening to the way he spoke. there’s a pause; the sky knight flexes and inspects one hand nonchalantly. then:

FIRST THREE TO STEP UP GET A SMOOCH. | ONE OF THREE.

          HE SHOULD HAVE EXPECTED A ceremony of this caliber to have been so full of life. the bustle of the hall, the immense gathering of guests, all waiting with baited breath to see a new king, a proper king, crowned in the name of their glorious land —– given the turn of events and the circumstances from which this coronation had arisen, it should not have come as any surprise. denizens of nohr and hoshido alike had set down their arms and gathered in castle krakenburg’s throne room for the event, after all. after the ceremony was over, and the then-prince found himself officially crowned king, those same nobles broke bread together, talked together, danced together in celebration. it was a new era —– so went the end of xander’s coronation speech, tied together in an eloquent manner that only the blond himself could manage. an era not of war, but of peace between nations, of reconstruction, of rebuilding nohr to its full potential and establishing a foundation for the bountiful friendship that he would strive to foster between his land and that of the rising sun.

         he, tsubaki, would never have expected to have been here, —– neither to bear witness to such a ceremony, nor to bear witness to such an age —– but then, he’d come to find that he felt that way about many things, as of late. he had not expected to find that nohrians were not only barbarous savages, but rather, civilized people themselves. he had not expected to fight alongside the nohrian royal family in the struggle for peace. he had not expected for one such royal to resonate so strongly with himself, to be so strikingly similar to himself, that he would captivate him so. captivate his mind. captivate his heart. and tonight, specifically, capture his gaze completely, for he’s certain that he’s watched the king walk ( and dance ) the floor for the entirety of the night, wordless. 

         a thousand people in the room at least, yet he’s paid none mind the way he has this man.

         ❛  those dancing lessons of ours certainly worked wonders, didn’t they? you must be glad that you took me up on my offer at all! ❜  a breathy laugh prefacing the observation, he announces his presence as he makes his way over. when he saw xander slip away from his latest ‘partner’ and out of sight, he gave chase; it’d led him here, to a corner room, untouched by party guests and occupied solely by themselves. he should have resisted the urge. he could not. in his formal attire, kingly crown in place of the one he’d wore prior to his coronation, xander is far more regal here, now, than he had been at any point in the night. he tries to reason with himself, to tell himself that it’s a trick of the mind ( or perhaps the heart, in this case; he feels his pulse quicken and chides himself for it ), but it is for naught. it’s all he can do not to hold his breath, to maintain the smiling facade as he continues his approach, hands clasped tightly before him.

        ❛  you were magnificent, after all. every pair of eyes in that room was trained on you, king xander —– just as i said they’d be. ❜  his included. his especially. he pauses when there are mere feet between himself and the other, and looks at him almost searchingly, almost seriously. there’s a blond tousle poking out from beneath the crown, in complete disarray —– whether it’d occurred only recently, or whether it’d been there for a good portion of the night, he cannot say. but the inner perfectionist in him writhes at the very existence of it ( disarray is ill-befitting on someone of such status —– on someone of such beauty ), and, with a small quirk of lips ( because this incident reminds him of one prior, on one fine morning; and he cannot help but to laugh at the similarities —– history repeats itself, indeed ), one hand raises from his side cautiously, hesitantly, to fix it.  ❛ … ah —– hold still for a moment, alright?  ❜

       it’s a problem that is easily remedied, —– really, all he needs to do is tuck the strand behind his ear with the rest, and avoid the crown resting upon his head —– but even so, he lingers. his fingers trail downwards from the side of his face to his cheek, a ghost of a touch, barely coming into contact with the skin. xander’s body has gone rigid with him so close; he should withdraw, if not for the sake of being proper, then for the sake of his own comfort ( for what could such a reaction entail, if not discomfort? ), but he finds he cannot. that it’s not so simple as that. certainly not, for soon enough, he throws all caution to the wind, lays his hand gently upon his cheek, and leans up and in to claim the king’s lips in a kiss. it’s meant to be quick, to be soft, but when they’ve come together that becomes an impossibility. his hand’s aflame, his being’s alight. he pulls himself away when he finds that he has to, for his lungs have long since emptied themselves of breath —– and even then, he desires more, one more time, he wants to feel that rush, to satisfy a craving he’s only now realizing he’s had for some time. 

      but he can’t. realization sets upon him and twists his stomach into grotesque knots, and all of a sudden, he’s five, ten steps back from his prior position. he tears his hand away from xander’s face as though he’s been scorched. his eyes are wide, his mouth is dry, he struggles to find the words to say, but he cannot speak. he’s stammering. disheveled. so unlike the perfect, composed person he makes himself seem to be. and rightfully so; the only sort of ‘perfect’ that plagued him now was a perfect sense of chaos. of shame. ( for who was he, in relation to this man? )

                  ❛ i … ———- forgive me, i … … 

                                                             i think i’ve overstayed my welcome here. ❜

                   THE LAST THING SHE WANTS TO DO is waste his time on what she thinks is trivial curiosity on her behalf. they had. they had but a day at their disposal before they moved on to where they needed to go next, but a day was enough for her to take advantage of the sights and shops. thankfully, tsubaki was all too kind to come with her, and as they look around she’s overwhelmed by all the things she sees. one thing leads to another, and they find themselves at the window of a shop with the most colorful of dresses and fabrics, and she’s drawn to it immediately. it’s rare that she even thinks to spoil herself, but she couldn’t help it. ( maybe she’ll get something for him, and bring gifts home for everyone else– it just didn’t seem right to do herself. ) however, she’s indecisive about going in, and she looks to him to see if he was okay or not . his assurance means more to her than she must of realized, because she finds her worries melt away, instead a smile taking bloom on her face. 

                    ❝ Will you come into the shop with me, Tsubaki? I-If you don’t mind! ❞    

       SO SELDOM DO THE tides of war ebb for long enough that they’re able to spend time on things such as these: small, but meaningful pleasures, such as traversing city streets and shopping for items that might bring oneself joy. soon enough, they’d be on the march again ----- heading towards their next destination, their next battle, and no one knew what that in itself would entail. no one knew how many of them would survive, would barely scrape by, would sustain a fatal injury and perish. he tries not to think on it too much, but it’s a devastating reality. that they’ve gone thus far without casualties is a miracle, and one that he attributes mostly to the work of their leader, kamui. one could only hope that they continued down this path together; every last one of them.

      ... ah --- but now was hardly the time to dwell upon such things. he gazes upon her relieved, reassured smile, and his own smile widens in response. the days ahead of them were sure to be bleak, but at the very least, he had her smile ( and that of his liege ) to continue to light the way. he nods, chuckling slightly.

          “ what’s a guy like you doin’ in a place like this ? “ she’s genuine with her inquiry, interest piqued by unsure footsteps, a gaze flickering with question. she stands with appendages crossed just beneath the chronal accelerator anchored to her chest, brow quirked, mouth’s corners turned upward. “ lost your way, love ? maybe i can point you in the right direction. “ // @perfectaed

                                      ❛  ---------- it certainly looks that way, doesn’t it?  ❜

        UNFAMILIAR ARMOR AND STRANGE technology, the likes of which he’s certain he’s never seen back home; wherever the otherworldly gate had taken him, it was eons away from the civilization he looked upon with fond familiarity. lips purse as he looks her over, the naginata at his side clenched tightly in his dominant hand. it’s only natural for him to be wary, after all ----- isn’t  it? strange face, strange world. would that he could explain how he’d ended up here, but ... ( who would believe that he’d stepped into a portal, a gateway, unwittingly? )