#accendible

from emoji & color palette art challenge [accepting!!]

HMMMM i choose caramelldansen 6g :]c

from art palette prompts [accepting!!]

BOOF WOOF WOOF

everyone sending ‘💋’ in my inbox gets a kiss from my muse.

I will join you in battle to the bitter end. And when the fighting is done, then you may lay me to rest.

What did it feel like, she wondered, to fulfill one's purpose? All along the road, she had stopped to listen to others, to lend an ear and then a sword to making their dreams and ambitions come true. In this way ( though it was genuine ), she had effectively put off doing the same for herself. To Merri, her own mind was a pool of dark water, and she shuddered to even chance catching her own reflection in it, fearful of what the ripples might reveal. A distorted face, a forgotten purpose. Who she had been, before Anticipation. Her past followed closely at her heels, hiding in the shadow she cast. She ran from it, but could never lose it. It was not that she assumed something terrible, nor did she feel any foreboding beyond that essential, base fear of the unknown. If she looked, would she like what was revealed to her? Would it give her clarity of purpose? What would she lose in return? If who she had become was not who she had been, would she be obligated to give way to that other person, and die a little death in doing so? The idea of being subsumed rocked her, and so she would not look.

Yet here was Latenna, who marched so proudly to the Haligtree to see her duty done. In the face of that, Merri felt a coward. She wanted to ask, Aren't you afraid? She wanted to ask, What lies beyond the completion of duty? And surely she felt now that there was a difference between I'm here to help and I'm here to do what I must, and that she had chosen the former, and that she was lesser for it.

And still, she couldn't bear the thought of her friend leaving. Hadn't she learned so much from her? Her skill with the bow had advanced from passable to superb simply by doing as Latenna did. The way she sprung onto wolves in battle had inspired Merri to move with her pack in a different way, to ride them as she did Torrent. She would never have dared to, without Latenna. Was all of that going to go away? Did it have to just stop? Would it be a gentle leaving, like Lobo sighing his last, or a short sharp shock, like hitting the end of a noose? And when Latenna was gone, when she had no one left to help, what would she do? What did she want?

💗 i do!! i do like!!!

This place is an abattoir.

The thought rings clear amid the confused fog of receding unconsciousness; the stench of rotting meat - and equally decayed butchers - causes the pyromancer’s body to flex uncontrollably as he goes to cover his mouth and nose...

...and finds himself bound in wood. 

He doesn’t think the butchers capable of planning - all he saw in their sodden eyes was hunger, deep and primal, not wisdom. Not cunning. That made their decision to stash him in a barrel all the more astonishing, because it served as the perfect trap for someone whose primary solution to anything was, as he put it, “enough fire to sort it out, however much that may be.”

Without any room to move or swing his arms, Laurentius finds himself unable to burst forth from the barrel, and any attempts to burn the container would only set himself alight along with it. 

He’s stuck, and he knows he’s stuck, and the panic rising in his gut and crawling past his ribcage jolts him completely awake.

This place is an abattoir, and he’s just a sack of meat, waiting for the cleaver - 

No, don’t think like that. Don’t let yourself panic. Swallow. Breathe. There has to be a way out of this. Panicking will accomplish nothing.

You’ll only die frightened, mutters his conscience, somewhere in the darkest corner of his head. 

Right. A plan. A plan...

❝  when your eyes are on me,  i feel like something worth seeing.  ❞

               @accendible​.  /  from here.  /  accepting.

‘ and how long did you have to think on that one ?? ’ 

before he opens his eyes  ,  porco has  half  a mind to think he’s  imagining  the sound of her voice  ,  her hand pushing his hair from his face.  but he sees her then  ,  hair blowing in the breeze from the open window  ,  &  he wonders if he really  did  die back there  ,  if this is some fucked up  afterlife  ,  or a  dream  of some sort.

but it’s  not  ,  his vision is too  blurry  for it to not be real.  the healing process is  slow  ,  he can’t imagine it’s a  pretty  sight  ,  but he offers her a half-smile nonetheless.

he’d say she’s  beautiful  like this  ,  if he wasn’t a  coward  ,  &  when the sun highlights the  color  to her cheeks  ,  porco realizes he  has  .  if he had any blood to  spare  ,  porco’s sure his  own  face would be turning just as red. 

‘ seriously.....you girls are so weird. ’ 

carefully  ,  he lifts his hand  ,  placing it over hers for a moment  ,  huffing out a  sigh  before he speaks  ,  looking at her through the corners of his eyes. 

☾* ░   The hunter. The moment she thought whether she’d find her or not - she did. People spoke about her, how they yearned to see or speak to her again. The day she held her, Yurie had learnt why. That familiar clutch in her stomach upon seeing the shadow cast against the light like the halo of a saint. The feeling was the same she felt that day in her arms. Like an instinct, close to a hunger. The dark eyes yearned to meet hers, to reflect the deepest feelings hidden behind the formal cover. How someone of such a high position could appear so weak, as her hands seek any reason to seek the arms covered by finely tailored outfit - to the smallest detail. Perhaps hidden under comforting intend - her own were merely selfish. Just like Yurie had been once hunched over sink, she’d now be the one embracing another.