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Feb. 25th, 2019
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ollou:
wip of a precious bby boi that needs to be protected at all costs ;w;
I AM STILL SO SHOOK AFTER THE ANIME AND DLC TRAILER FFFUU
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ollou:
wip of a precious bby boi that needs to be protected at all costs ;w;
I AM STILL SO SHOOK AFTER THE ANIME AND DLC TRAILER FFFUU
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lnkedpages:
“Forgive me if I taste a little too much like poison. If I am full of too much chaos. Forgive me if I have too much bottled within me that it makes the earth quiver. But I won’t apologize for the monster I became to survive the monsters around me.”
— or the screaming still ringing in my ears // L.H.Z (via lhzthepoet)
@sparklecryptid
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lnkedpages:
“Forgive me if I taste a little too much like poison. If I am full of too much chaos. Forgive me if I have too much bottled within me that it makes the earth quiver. But I won’t apologize for the monster I became to survive the monsters around me.”
— or the screaming still ringing in my ears // L.H.Z (via lhzthepoet)
@sparklecryptid
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lhzthepoet: “Dark: (adj.) 1. A thousand
Feb. 25th, 2019 02:37 amvia https://ift.tt/2UdRE8I
lhzthepoet:
“Dark: (adj.) 1. A thousand knives of solitude in the chest. Devoid of company. Devoid of light. (n.) 1. Your kingdom that stretches passed the domain of night, teetering between sleep, between the void. Power: (n) 1. A rush of adrenaline to your head. The gravity of each word and the destruction they may bear. It’s an addiction you once bore and then rejected when the carnage became too much. It didn’t protect you, did it, from the ravaging of your heart. Death: (n) 1. Slipping into the next world as softly as a dream. 2. The peace to life’s chaos. The end of turmoil. The end of the pain. 3. A reunion to all that you lost because of mortality. The Underworld: (n) 1. A place of resting. A place of justice for the weary soul, and ruin for the sinful. …. 2. A place without the sun.”
— The Definitions of Hades // Published in Myth Untold / Get it here
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lhzthepoet:
“Dark: (adj.) 1. A thousand knives of solitude in the chest. Devoid of company. Devoid of light. (n.) 1. Your kingdom that stretches passed the domain of night, teetering between sleep, between the void. Power: (n) 1. A rush of adrenaline to your head. The gravity of each word and the destruction they may bear. It’s an addiction you once bore and then rejected when the carnage became too much. It didn’t protect you, did it, from the ravaging of your heart. Death: (n) 1. Slipping into the next world as softly as a dream. 2. The peace to life’s chaos. The end of turmoil. The end of the pain. 3. A reunion to all that you lost because of mortality. The Underworld: (n) 1. A place of resting. A place of justice for the weary soul, and ruin for the sinful. …. 2. A place without the sun.”
— The Definitions of Hades // Published in Myth Untold / Get it here
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quotemadness:
“Something in my soul was rising, rising, ceaselessly, painfully, and refused to be still.”
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky (via quotemadness)
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quotemadness:
“Something in my soul was rising, rising, ceaselessly, painfully, and refused to be still.”
— Fyodor Dostoyevsky (via quotemadness)
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travelinglighttoday:
Mighty volcanic eruptions - trepidation and dread.
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travelinglighttoday:
Mighty volcanic eruptions - trepidation and dread.
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charlottedabookworm: “…Cor?”
Feb. 25th, 2019 09:17 amvia https://ift.tt/2BU82Ey
charlottedabookworm:
“…Cor?” Regis asked slowly, staring at the dirty form of one of his oldest friends, just back from a three-month mission to Gralea. At his side, he could see Clarus staring as well because…
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“What is it that you have there?”
“My coffee?” The young Marshall held up his mug – which he had been alternating between clutching close and practically inhaling with the intensity of a starving man – with a raised eyebrow.
A beat passed, all of them staring at each other.
“…I believe that His Majesty was referring to the baby in your arms, Cor.”
“Oh, Prompto?” He said, glancing down at the baby sleeping in his arms as though he was surprised to see him there. Regis wasn’t fooled, Cor was planning something. “He wasn’t being taken care of properly, so I stole him.”
“You.” He paused, taking a deep breath, and tried to shove away his building headache. For fuck’s sake, Cor. “You stole him.” It wasn’t a question.
His friend nodded seriously, seemingly not seeing the issue here. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Sighing, Regis rubbed at his forehead before turning to the next issue. I’m going to regret this but: “…and the wolf?” The wolf who was obviously a shifter, and Regis was trying not to think of the trouble all of this was going to cause.
Damn it, Cor.
“Lump?” Cor asked innocently, gesturing to his companion.
Lump? He thought resignedly, because of course he named the wolf Lump. There was no way that that was the wolf’s actual name. The baby is lucky he ended up as a Prompto. “Yes.” He sighed. “Lump.”
“I freed him, he decided that I was an idiot who couldn’t care for myself or a child correctly, and then decided that he was going to follow me home.” Cor shrugged. “He’s good with killing things and Prompto likes him, so we’re keeping each other.”
“You’re keeping each other. Of course, you are. Why not.” He muttered, half-mad with the thought of the paperwork this entire clusterfuck was generating. And they hadn’t even gotten to the actual report yet. This was revenge for something that he’d done, it had to be, but damned if Regis knew what. “Are you trying to drive me to drink Cor?”
“Do you want the honest answer to that question, Your Majesty?” Cor asked with a smirk, sipping at his coffee while at his side the wolf chuffed, grinning toothily at him.
He narrowed his eyes at his friend.
That smug little shit.
“No,” He said flatly. “Get out of my office.” Fuck the debrief, they could finish it later, after he’d read the report and had had time to deal with this insanity. Right now, he needed a drink.
Cor’s smirk widened. “But, of course, Your Majesty.” Tipping his mug at them both, Cor spun on his heel and left the office – his friend following behind him. The door clicked shut behind them.
Regis tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Why?” He asked anyone that would listen.
Beside him, he could feel Clarus shrug as he settled against the desk. “It could be worse?” He offered, smiling slightly sheepishly when Regis looked at him. “At least it’s a wolf-shifter and not a behemoth pup this time?”
He shuddered at the memory of a sixteen-year-old Cor and the pup that he’d tried to hide and all the trouble that they had caused.
Clarus had a very good point, it could indeed be worse. But still…
“We really must stop letting him leave of the city without appropriate supervision.”
#poor Regis - Cor is teasing the fuck out of him
#Lump is chill with this because he loves pissing people off
#honestly - Clarus and Regis should have expected something like this
*cackles* Yes, this. Poor, poor Clarus+Regis - they really *should* have expected Cor ‘That Little Shit’ Leonis, aka The Immortal, to be perfectly deadpan and casual with regards to his rescuing/stealing a baby from the Niflheimr laboratories as well as a wolf shifter. Come to think of it - they’re pretty sure they haven’t ever seen a wolf shifter before; weren’t they supposed to be extinct?
Typical. Just typical; Cor goes out and returns with a baby and a representative of a supposedly extinct ‘shifter subspecies. Typical.
(And to think, they haven’t even seen Prompto shift skin yet, let alone realize that he’s a puppy as well!)
Ardyn is. Well. Increasingly amused/exasperated. He still thinks that Cor is a dumbass - admittedly a dumbass with a rare talent for sass, who seems to be treating the cub well - and he would like to register a complaint about the man naming him ‘Lump’. Well, really. ‘Lump’? But he’s pleasantly surprised at Cor’s - fairly accurate interpretation of Ardyn’s reasoning regarding the wolf’s tendency to follow him around - after all, someone needs to take care of this human and this pup.
Cor is lucky he’s pretty, Ardyn grouses to himself before settling down for a nap and a cuddle with a sleepy puppy. On Cor’s bed, of course.
(The soon-to-be nightly War For the Blanket and/or Mattress begins in very short order.)
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charlottedabookworm:
“…Cor?” Regis asked slowly, staring at the dirty form of one of his oldest friends, just back from a three-month mission to Gralea. At his side, he could see Clarus staring as well because…
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“What is it that you have there?”
“My coffee?” The young Marshall held up his mug – which he had been alternating between clutching close and practically inhaling with the intensity of a starving man – with a raised eyebrow.
A beat passed, all of them staring at each other.
“…I believe that His Majesty was referring to the baby in your arms, Cor.”
“Oh, Prompto?” He said, glancing down at the baby sleeping in his arms as though he was surprised to see him there. Regis wasn’t fooled, Cor was planning something. “He wasn’t being taken care of properly, so I stole him.”
“You.” He paused, taking a deep breath, and tried to shove away his building headache. For fuck’s sake, Cor. “You stole him.” It wasn’t a question.
His friend nodded seriously, seemingly not seeing the issue here. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Sighing, Regis rubbed at his forehead before turning to the next issue. I’m going to regret this but: “…and the wolf?” The wolf who was obviously a shifter, and Regis was trying not to think of the trouble all of this was going to cause.
Damn it, Cor.
“Lump?” Cor asked innocently, gesturing to his companion.
Lump? He thought resignedly, because of course he named the wolf Lump. There was no way that that was the wolf’s actual name. The baby is lucky he ended up as a Prompto. “Yes.” He sighed. “Lump.”
“I freed him, he decided that I was an idiot who couldn’t care for myself or a child correctly, and then decided that he was going to follow me home.” Cor shrugged. “He’s good with killing things and Prompto likes him, so we’re keeping each other.”
“You’re keeping each other. Of course, you are. Why not.” He muttered, half-mad with the thought of the paperwork this entire clusterfuck was generating. And they hadn’t even gotten to the actual report yet. This was revenge for something that he’d done, it had to be, but damned if Regis knew what. “Are you trying to drive me to drink Cor?”
“Do you want the honest answer to that question, Your Majesty?” Cor asked with a smirk, sipping at his coffee while at his side the wolf chuffed, grinning toothily at him.
He narrowed his eyes at his friend.
That smug little shit.
“No,” He said flatly. “Get out of my office.” Fuck the debrief, they could finish it later, after he’d read the report and had had time to deal with this insanity. Right now, he needed a drink.
Cor’s smirk widened. “But, of course, Your Majesty.” Tipping his mug at them both, Cor spun on his heel and left the office – his friend following behind him. The door clicked shut behind them.
Regis tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Why?” He asked anyone that would listen.
Beside him, he could feel Clarus shrug as he settled against the desk. “It could be worse?” He offered, smiling slightly sheepishly when Regis looked at him. “At least it’s a wolf-shifter and not a behemoth pup this time?”
He shuddered at the memory of a sixteen-year-old Cor and the pup that he’d tried to hide and all the trouble that they had caused.
Clarus had a very good point, it could indeed be worse. But still…
“We really must stop letting him leave of the city without appropriate supervision.”
#poor Regis - Cor is teasing the fuck out of him
#Lump is chill with this because he loves pissing people off
#honestly - Clarus and Regis should have expected something like this
*cackles* Yes, this. Poor, poor Clarus+Regis - they really *should* have expected Cor ‘That Little Shit’ Leonis, aka The Immortal, to be perfectly deadpan and casual with regards to his rescuing/stealing a baby from the Niflheimr laboratories as well as a wolf shifter. Come to think of it - they’re pretty sure they haven’t ever seen a wolf shifter before; weren’t they supposed to be extinct?
Typical. Just typical; Cor goes out and returns with a baby and a representative of a supposedly extinct ‘shifter subspecies. Typical.
(And to think, they haven’t even seen Prompto shift skin yet, let alone realize that he’s a puppy as well!)
Ardyn is. Well. Increasingly amused/exasperated. He still thinks that Cor is a dumbass - admittedly a dumbass with a rare talent for sass, who seems to be treating the cub well - and he would like to register a complaint about the man naming him ‘Lump’. Well, really. ‘Lump’? But he’s pleasantly surprised at Cor’s - fairly accurate interpretation of Ardyn’s reasoning regarding the wolf’s tendency to follow him around - after all, someone needs to take care of this human and this pup.
Cor is lucky he’s pretty, Ardyn grouses to himself before settling down for a nap and a cuddle with a sleepy puppy. On Cor’s bed, of course.
(The soon-to-be nightly War For the Blanket and/or Mattress begins in very short order.)
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Oooh, yes.
Tredd and Crowe overall have an interesting relationship in like Torchbearer verses. And like in general the way we portray Torchbearers in general have complex relationships with themselves and Ifrit, we tend to portray one of Ifrit’s major aspects as passion/emotion/inspiration in various stripes. Fire, heat, as connected to ideas and thoughts.
So Torchbearers in general tend to be very intimate, and Crowe and he sleep together regularly without having a label for it. They’re strong friends, and love each other, and sometimes that love edges more towards romantic, and sometimes it dips towards sibling relationship stuff. All in all they tend to be complex and well, growing, not staying in a single shape.
Crowe would be incredibly happy too. Our background for Crowe in torchbearer verses is that she’s Galahdian, but was thrown out of her village after her parents died at a young age. She wasn’t old enough to remember why precisely, but there’s implications that she caused it somehow and the others considered her cursed.
She ends up finding shelter in the ruins of what was a temple of Ifrit, not knowing who he is, and climbs over a mostly in tact statue, and starts to feel warm even in the rain. She stays there a pretty long time, talking to “the statue man” and kind of cobbles together her own faith basically off the faint feel of his presence that she wakes up there. Until she ends up getting scooped off to Insomnia at around age 10-12 and growing up there. She finds Tredd and befriends him pretty fast in Insomnia, though she’s basically a feral kid at that point. She doesn’t really settle or come into her own till she finds Nyx and Libertus who help stabilize her more.
Also yeah. Ifrit would not be happy if he woke up to find the Torchbearer Pets verse. Probably respond by trying to derail the prophecy in some manner. Even if it was just making sure Noctis survived as an ally against Bahamut. The one thing that Ifrit could potentially have learned after being dead for so long is patience. Well. Patience and bitterness.
@gingersmiith / @ardensaltius
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Oooh, yes.
Tredd and Crowe overall have an interesting relationship in like Torchbearer verses. And like in general the way we portray Torchbearers in general have complex relationships with themselves and Ifrit, we tend to portray one of Ifrit’s major aspects as passion/emotion/inspiration in various stripes. Fire, heat, as connected to ideas and thoughts.
So Torchbearers in general tend to be very intimate, and Crowe and he sleep together regularly without having a label for it. They’re strong friends, and love each other, and sometimes that love edges more towards romantic, and sometimes it dips towards sibling relationship stuff. All in all they tend to be complex and well, growing, not staying in a single shape.
Crowe would be incredibly happy too. Our background for Crowe in torchbearer verses is that she’s Galahdian, but was thrown out of her village after her parents died at a young age. She wasn’t old enough to remember why precisely, but there’s implications that she caused it somehow and the others considered her cursed.
She ends up finding shelter in the ruins of what was a temple of Ifrit, not knowing who he is, and climbs over a mostly in tact statue, and starts to feel warm even in the rain. She stays there a pretty long time, talking to “the statue man” and kind of cobbles together her own faith basically off the faint feel of his presence that she wakes up there. Until she ends up getting scooped off to Insomnia at around age 10-12 and growing up there. She finds Tredd and befriends him pretty fast in Insomnia, though she’s basically a feral kid at that point. She doesn’t really settle or come into her own till she finds Nyx and Libertus who help stabilize her more.
Also yeah. Ifrit would not be happy if he woke up to find the Torchbearer Pets verse. Probably respond by trying to derail the prophecy in some manner. Even if it was just making sure Noctis survived as an ally against Bahamut. The one thing that Ifrit could potentially have learned after being dead for so long is patience. Well. Patience and bitterness.
@gingersmiith / @ardensaltius
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hisroyalhighnarse69:
Tales From The Roadtrip
We actually didn’t know Cor was coming with us.
About four hours after we left Insomnia, we pulled into this gas station and while Weskham was putting the fuel in he heard a thump from the boot of the Regalia. Naturally, we were all on edge. Clarus and I fought over who had to open it and die first for a good twenty minutes until Cid slapped us and opened it up.
There, squished among our belongings was a very grumpy fifteen-year-old. He was even less impressed when we forced him to sit in the back between Clarus and myself.
Apparently, the boot was more comfortable than being stuck between our ‘fat asses’. He shut up after Clarus threatened to throw him out.
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hisroyalhighnarse69:
Tales From The Roadtrip
We actually didn’t know Cor was coming with us.
About four hours after we left Insomnia, we pulled into this gas station and while Weskham was putting the fuel in he heard a thump from the boot of the Regalia. Naturally, we were all on edge. Clarus and I fought over who had to open it and die first for a good twenty minutes until Cid slapped us and opened it up.
There, squished among our belongings was a very grumpy fifteen-year-old. He was even less impressed when we forced him to sit in the back between Clarus and myself.
Apparently, the boot was more comfortable than being stuck between our ‘fat asses’. He shut up after Clarus threatened to throw him out.
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Any Caladion thoughts?
Feb. 25th, 2019 09:22 pmvia https://ift.tt/2ViBlb5
he sees his family. he sees them in the faces of the eldar that remain in middle-earth though their heart calls for the west. he sees his family in the grinning faces of elrond’s twins. caladion sees his family when he doesn’t mean to look.
he hates it. hates being reminded of who he’s related too. hates that when he sees his family as spectres haunting him they glow like blazing stars.
mostly, he hates how even in death they’re beautiful. how they bear no wounds to tell the story of how they died. how despite how bright, how full of light feanor and his dead sons are there’s a darkness in them. their light is that backlit by shadows of ambition and fealty and despite his best attempts at denying it, caladion knows that their blood runs through him.
he knows that if someone even thought of threatening what is his he would tear them limb from limb. caladion knows that his loyalty is dangerous, that once he deems you worth following there is almost nothing he wouldn’t do.
he knows this. its why he avoided gil-galad. for all that elrond tries to hide it, caladion can see the same selfish loyalty in him. its why gil-galad’s death almost ruined elrond.
its why he caladion avoided celebrimbor. curufin had urged him to seek out celebrimbor but caladion had barely been an adult and he still knew that that was dangerous. that if celebrimbor welcomed him, if they were family, then caladion’s own loyalty would not allow him to leave celebrimbor when the time came.
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he sees his family. he sees them in the faces of the eldar that remain in middle-earth though their heart calls for the west. he sees his family in the grinning faces of elrond’s twins. caladion sees his family when he doesn’t mean to look.
he hates it. hates being reminded of who he’s related too. hates that when he sees his family as spectres haunting him they glow like blazing stars.
mostly, he hates how even in death they’re beautiful. how they bear no wounds to tell the story of how they died. how despite how bright, how full of light feanor and his dead sons are there’s a darkness in them. their light is that backlit by shadows of ambition and fealty and despite his best attempts at denying it, caladion knows that their blood runs through him.
he knows that if someone even thought of threatening what is his he would tear them limb from limb. caladion knows that his loyalty is dangerous, that once he deems you worth following there is almost nothing he wouldn’t do.
he knows this. its why he avoided gil-galad. for all that elrond tries to hide it, caladion can see the same selfish loyalty in him. its why gil-galad’s death almost ruined elrond.
its why he caladion avoided celebrimbor. curufin had urged him to seek out celebrimbor but caladion had barely been an adult and he still knew that that was dangerous. that if celebrimbor welcomed him, if they were family, then caladion’s own loyalty would not allow him to leave celebrimbor when the time came.
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