#vvielding

sends 20 golden retrievers both ur ways tbh

                Manic screams still resonated in her ears, within her very skull; shrill                 sounds which would haunt most, would cause a shuddering pause                 of tensed muscle, of calcified bone. Yet there was not a single drop of                 gore upon her skin ( nor the pure white of her dress ), merely the                 slightest hint of deep red beneath clipped finger nails, so difficult to                 see that its importance was null. Instead attention would be caught by                 the box in pale hands, the steady yet fast steps taken towards sole                 destination. Carried there as if on autopilot, the screams continued.

         ( it was for him, though, and perhaps that was what made it          as easy as breathing, to rip paper-thin tissue apart, to          extract his meal, feeling hardly a thing. )

                                Yet they quieted as the threshold was crossed, as                                 the entrance was sealed posthaste, as white clad                                 enchantress ( that was what they called her; along                                 with witch ) looked upon the shadowed leader,                                 fingers clenching about the solidity in her grasp, a                                 near gentleness softening her expression, a sharp                                 contrast to the emptiness which had been there.

                Eyebrows arched high above widened eyes, the scythe wielder                 stepped out from the shadow of the building which had been her                 hiding spot for fleeting minutes, knuckles pressing against narrow                 hips, fingers curled inwards toward her palm. Confusion was clear                 across her face, her expression, intrigue and dubiousness shining                 in her eyes. Yet no fear was felt, only curiosity simmering beneath                 the surface of pale skin.

           ❝ Please, stay where you are. ❞

    While she didn't want to be hostile, this stranger was getting far      too close for her own personal comfort. Her fingers were aimed      towards him, unhinged and ready to fire if she needed to. She would      not shoot at a child, but at the same time the weapon he held didn't      comfort her in the least. If her friends were in danger, she would      protect them, even from someone like him.

       A charm, threaded together and composed of thalassa shells rests in            his palm. It's similar to his own, albeit different. Already does he get the            feeling that it's very important to the boy.

「 ♛ ¢яσωη 」;;

                    ❝⋯First off-- please don't pull on                           on my face, I assure you I am                           [ indeed ] alive and not a clone. .❞

10. What is your favorite world?

Mmmm thats a tough one! I loveloveloooove Hollow Bastion, TWTNW, Does it surprise you that my favorites are the really screwy/evil worlds? Not to call Hollow Bastion evil, but some horrible shit went on there but I like a lot of Disney worlds too, like Symphony of Sorcery being high up there mostly cuz I grew up listening to the Nutcracker Suite eheheh.. Ooh, and Deep Space! I'm Lilo and Stitch trash goodbye sammi.

20. Did you save all 99 of the Dalmatian puppies?

Nope. Never knew where they were. and everytime I went to Pongo and Perdita's house, my sister or brother would be like HEY LOOK ITS 101 DALMATIONS!! OH YMG SOSH SAMI LOOKIT ALK THE PUPPIESHOOLYFUCKSJKDFNK and I decided to never go there again if my siblings were in the room :l

27. When did you cry?

“Sora!”

The poor nobody was puffing and panting, the  air  hardly filling  her  lungs  as she was dragged breathlessly ran behind her companion.   His hand clasped around  hers  was  the  only  way  that  she could hope to keep up, and she did her  best not to trip in the snow that  [ s w a l l o w e d ]  her little legs. Dressed as a bride who had met her untimely end         ( a common motif of Halloween Town to appear as frightening as possible )    she found the fake blood on her neck far too itchy and the dress too thin in the frigid air.  The veil blew behind her like smoke – twisting in the snow and collecting flakes as she was pulled to their destination.

In his attempt to prove her place in the universe, the keyblade wielder seemed covinced that, if Naminé’s name was on Santa’s good list,  she deserved her existence.    The witch was sceptical of Sora’s claim but, when he was set on an idea, she knew it was almost impossible to change his mind.    It had been that  which  pulled  her  away from the spooktastic  celebration  of  Halloween ( Jack had claimed it was only a few days away –  no doubt hoping they might stay to see it )    and through the portal to the brighter town of gingerbread and candy coloured buildings.     Naminé wasn’t sure which side of the world she liked most.   Halloween Town was macabre,  but full of energy and fun;  whilst Christmas Town was cheery, light-hearted but seemingly businesslike.