lukeimyurlinx-blog

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

.

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

I’m not looking for somebody who will whisper sweet nothings into my ear to feed the ravenous ego of my heart. But someone who can look me straight in the eye and say, I love you, whether you fail or fall, just as you are.

Beau Taplin, The Ego (via wordsnquotes)

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

Zaveid ambles lover to his love from behind, a hand hiding behind his back as if brewing a surprise ( there was no need to, given Dezel's sight but posture, posture ). His free arm wrapped around Dezel's waist from behind, pulling the young wind closer. ' Ya look amazin' today. Must be a coincidence since I was thinkin' of gettin' ya somethin' jus' as a complement ~ ' He then moved the bouquet of flowers against Dezel's abdomen, knowing that he can tell it's there.

@vernaes

Dezel could sense Zaveid coming, of course. He expected the embrace, leaned into it a little-- but the perfume of flowers was a bit of a surprise. It took the wind a moment to catch him up, but he could feel the softness of the petals as soon as his hands came up to cradle the bouquet gently. 

It was... almost something too good and kind for him, really. At first he nearly expressed his distaste with such things; why cut flowers if they were only going to die? They had been living, trying their best just like anything else--

But then the smell settled in his mind, a scent that somehow touched his memory where it was locked away. 

“Zaveid, these are beautiful. This smell-- I know it from somewhere.” He said softly. 

“Thank you--” He trailed off, unable to find the words to push that any further but-- Dezel was reminded that Zaveid had always looked out for him, even when he had forgotten about him, chasing after Lafarga and the Wind Riders. 

He leaned back a bit more, resting his weight against the elder Seraph’s front before leaning up and back-- pressing kisses to his jawline. 

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

I take great care of myself by carefully shutting myself away.

Vincent van Gogh, Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van Gogh (via wordsnquotes)

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Manon, Ballerina  (via wordsnquotes)

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

I’ve been playing Tales of Zestiria and I really enjoy being able to talk to Rose and hear her commentary on our current mission. This is one of my favorite.

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

{ tfw ur accessibility read: “cosmetic” extensions are making chrome memory hog and crash and you just }

 { MMMMM look i can’t read anything that isn’t high contrast af, preferably white or yellow/green on black straight up chrome can u PLEASE  not }

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

What a terrible feeling to love someone and not be able to help them.

Jennifer Niven, All The Bright Places  (via wordsnquotes)

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

bokudou: 

          if he’s still ‘just sorey,’ he can’t help but wonder: just what was he before? prior to sentencing their once-great world to colossal ruin, who was ‘just sorey?’ a human being, destined for failure as much as the rest of them? someone who was fated to watch their friends’ lives crumble before them, and come to terms with the hand they played in it all? 

          how long would he have to stand by, and watch this happen? and how long before memories betray him, when everything else comes undone? “gramps was right. my kind is bound to bring ruin.” and he was right to lump himself in with the rest of them. 

          he’s certainly no better when it comes down to the wire, sick with his inability to make things right in the instant he sets out to. even noting dezel’s refusal to answer his question, sorey doesn’t press. “i’ve always been one of them, so i guess it’s true. i’m just me.” 

          he yields to the tremors in his pulse and looks over his shoulder instead. nothing extraordinary, and certainly nothing capable of saving this world. needless to say, it isn’t the spotlight he ever sought out. for sorey, it’s always been more faith and more need than anything else. people needed a shepherd, and he fit the bill.

          for some time, anyway. it looks like that era is long behind them. 

          so he sits with his back to the wall, and tries to occupy himself with one of the books in his bag. “i’m not very hungry. maybe later… and don’t worry about me, all right? i can take care of myself.” he says, refusing the signs his body has put forth like offerings. “if you want to get some rest, i can always take first watch.” 

There was no going back. What had happened could never be undone and if Sorey was cursed, it was no different from his own—and maybe Dezel had chosen to be among humans and separate from his own kind for so long that now he couldn't go back either. Wouldn't have known how.  

He can feel how tense Sorey is: how worn and tired. He had been that way for weeks and yet...  

He's torn between giving in and fighting to keep some sense of normalcy. It was with numbness that he puts them through the motions, that he tried to forget what he had done—how he had failed even if it was... for Sorey. Dezel doesn't know when the turning point had been and when he'd found that Sorey was his choice above everything else. In that split moment, he had chosen him, and survived what he never should have at the most terrible of prices.

Dezel wondered how he could thank him—how he could say that he owed him when the price had been so great.  

The truth remained though: the boy needed to eat something. Of course he wasn't hungry—he could see him shutting down before his eyes. Dezel scoffs and turns back toward the storm outside, frowning at the cold dampness settling in. A fire can't be recommended in this sort of enclosed space and—certainly not with the weather anyway. So he makes his way closer to Sorey, letting the morbid conversation die away a bit. Dezel has always been a man of few words, anyway. Stubbornly, he joins Sorey where he's sitting and fusses over what's in his bag.  

"I know you don't feel hungry, but--" But making something to eat is the only thing he can think of doing that isn't going to drive him nuts.  

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

You haven’t just lit a fire beneath me, you have ignited my bones.

Words for J  (via wordsnquotes)

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

To suffer is to produce knowledge.

Emil Cioran, The New Gods (via wordsnquotes)

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

when the shibe wants to fight u for ur dinner

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

Someone on a gaming forum: Dezel’s a really underdeveloped character, his only purpose in the plot was the player punch/ shock value. 

Me, an intellectual: Sure maybe if you’ve only watched the anime and or didn’t bother to find as many of the skits as you can get with him in game like. ??? or idk actually cared to use him in battle and stuff??? 

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

luzrovsoulrulay:

“I know,” Mikleo smirked a little bit. “I was trying to imply that, but yeah.” Using his other hand, he rubbed at the back of his fluffy hair. With his hand that was holding Dezel’s–he clutched at it with just enough pressure as he continued along the path.

“A lot of trees, other greenery, rocks, and wildlife.” Shrugging, he answered in a very analytical manner. “Elysia and the surrounding area is still rich in nature, but not so woodsy.”

"I can already feel the wind changing. It's so much clearer and cooler. Refreshing." He commented, and he returned the gentle pressure of Mikleo's hand on his.  

The scenery passing isn't something he can appreciate in the traditional sense, but he was still glad to experience it. It was almost funny how clinical the water Seraph could be, but he supposed that was the realm of water—the  mind and heart, anyway.  

When they approached the ruins, that verdant breeze seemed to die down—annoying, he'd have to rely on Mikleo just a bit more for that part but he'd act as though he didn't. His footsteps were careful, no longer stumbling. His mind however, found itself resting more clearly on the feeling of the other Seraph's skin through the small vents in his brown leather gloves.  

"...It feels unfair for me to come back before him," He finally commented, a bit of gloom working its way into his tone.  

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

There was a part of him that had hoped that it wouldn't come to this—that the talking could wait or be forgotten about altogether. He just wanted to follow Sorey and... well, he wasn't sure what exactly. When everyone had split up he had thought they'd just wander back to each other like they usually did but that didn't seem to be happening. This was... for real, wasn't it? And there was no going back.  

He takes a deep breath, leans against the stone wall and well—now it makes sense why: Ruins and no Mikleo? Because all of this is just too much. He crosses his arms, the wind whipping through his hair as the storm rages on just beyond the ancient walls.  

"You're still just Sorey."  

It was really that simple to him. He didn't understand the way the others had pushed against him. He had to do things his own way, and even if it was changing him... wasn't it part of the Shepherd's path? He might really fall and lose himself... and Dezel was determined to be there to either stop it or... stop him. Permanently.  

Of course, Dezel refuses to address the part about himself. With the malevolence festering inside him, he and Sorey really aren't that different now. Maybe that's why he can't bring himself to leave him even though it's obviously what he'd prefer.  

Instead, Dezel acts as though nothing is wrong and drops his arms to his sides. "Welp, might as well just camp here. You gotta eat. What sounds good?"  

cont from here.

          the sense in him has died down to sparks. the best and worst come and go in waves, some parts more familiar than others. even as he realizes how wrong it is to allow the wind seraph to stay, and fight alongside him, he can hardly refuse his company. he can’t fend him off like this—too crooked and weak, and too strange to see this kind of devotion up close. 

          after failing the masses, he can’t imagine a single reason as to why he might deserve this. anyone who still has faith in him is beyond misguided; perhaps beyond saving in a way that he can relate to. but that won’t stop him from trying. “of course you did. you’ve always done what you wanted to. but that doesn’t make this right.” 

          he barely deserves to stomp out the lord of calamity’s fire and claim it for his own, much less be a reward or a cause to champion. “and don’t tell yourself that. it’s not true, and it never has been.” 

          besides, believing such awful things will only mean falling faster. 

          “even if you shouldn’t… you trust me, don’t you?”

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

vernaes

  ❝ i will come back from the dead for you. ❞...

they !! give me !! these weird feelings aaaaaaaaaah !!

I’m said to be a dangerous fount of feels tbh. *pats u*

[lukeimyurlinx-blog]

bokudou

  ❝ you saved my life. i owe you, i owe you...

can i reply to this like a thread MGRLGNJBRKGN

You are always welcome to reply to anything always. e.e