#hellhoundslament

   THERE IS DEATH in his eyes; not the instantaneous kind, the one granting sweet mercy && relief from troubles that dared to. Not the victorious one, the one chased after by adrenaline && flames, the one where everything burns, gladly. His is a slow one, one that ate away, one that corroded at everything precious. His is a blindfold, his threatened to be all-consuming, && she bears witness to it all. Knowing the futility of trying to convince someone that they needed someone, anything, help---knowing it was futile, when that someone did not believe they needed it. 

   BUT. He is aware. Eyes, pained && exhausted, but clear. Voice, weary && choked, but audible. She wonders this: would he be able to hear her if she spoke, if she called out to him? She cannot wonder. TRY.

   “Affirmative.” Calls after him, to the receding figure, the heavy weight that burdens him almost visible against his silhouette. There is no shield, for once, over her singular gaze. It is un-shielded, vulnerable, allowing someone she had grown to respect, whose safety she found valuable, whose moods were soothing, whose skills a marvel---posse, in all the things that mattered && all the things that did not. AFFIRMATIVE, yes, her wish came to fruition. But not through her efforts, only through her relying on someone else to do what she could not. But not before her own wish BETRAYED HER, && everything that they had been. “Assistance,” voice a murmur on the breeze, carried to him.

   “Vincent.” He does not face her, && does not have to. In the same way that another had guarded her insecurities when betrayal, the feeling swells beneath her breast: the need to protect him. He would not be alone, && assistance would always be freely given to he who held her loyatly. “...not alone.”

MEME: handwriting ask meme.

RESPONSE:

Jamie, you’re an amazing friend and always so kind. I wish to nominate you! I hope today ends on a good note for you & that next week is better for you!

I also saw @onlyliberty and @dawnled were having some rough patches today, and they are both so lovely and kind and beautiful… I want things to improve for them, too!

It had been rather despicable to have up and disappeared for so long, hadn’t it? Yet, Lunafreya hardly objects when his overshadowing form engulfs her like a star at night, a blotch of white and blonde in his blackness and blood. Yet…there was a great sense of sanctity in his arms. Carefully did lithe arms wrap around his neck, pressing their bodies flush together as the blonde felt a sense of peace in his embrace. 

Soft Starters ( accepting )

@hellhoundslament

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄, is it idealistic? Perhaps so. She merely smiles, warmth radiating from her tender gaze, “Do you worry you will not be forgiven for the past?” these types of conversations feel nostalgic.

 From wary travelers, heroes that have fallen, or the adventurer without a path - how many times have they said such a thing to her? She can hardly recount it. Each time, it strikes nothing but empathy from the young woman.

  “They can” her voice does not waver in stance - it rings true with confidence. Faces of regret, words of longing to walk another path, she stands watching over them all believing that there is atonement. Why? She needs to, there is no specific reason other than that, she must if anything is to work - her hands will remain outstretched for all.

  “No one is solely pure in this world, we all have regrets && mistakes we would do anything to wash away” she carried her own, the weight overwhelming from time to time, but a little support helped to lessen the burden. Skylit eyes radiate with joy, her hands curl against blonde locks as she gently carries on in her words.

   “The important thing is we continue on, right our wrongs. All can be redeemed if they show sincerity in their actions - you are not a prisoner of your past” a gentle hand reaches for his own as she gazes upwards, beckoning him to follow her towards the horizon.