#dawnkeyed

[pegglesai]

opinion on Scott the Woz?

Really funny guy, I occasionally watch his stuff from time to time

My roommate and I quote StW at each other quite a bit, particularly "DAWNKEY KAWNG"

[skyywest]

“Dawnkey Kwong!? Is that you?!”

“Yes my child. Trans rights matter. I must leave now.”

[guidingkey]

@dawnkeyed​ sora will remember this

[slowbladed]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT.....your hair looks nice today.

   “AN ADMIRABLE attempt at a save. But...” He magically produces a bar of soap. “A swear is still a swear.”

[savethekiing]

zZz!!!!

goofy will take care of you !!

↳  (x)

    he didn’t realise he was rambling, he often did when it came to recounting the memories and stories they got from their adventure as a trio, there was something about sharing them with others that made them… so much more precious.   it was their memories, and to tell the stories and see the smiles and the laughter it brought made it completely magic.

   it was some time, and when he says ‘some time’… he means the shadows had long stretched along the ground signifying coming eve.   goofy finally takes in the silence, lack of hums and occasional comment on sora’s little stunts in the stories that only riku could make.   nothing at all.

    the captain glances over at riku, finding him to be leaning against the wall, shoulder supporting his weight and arms folded across his chest and his eyes were shut.    his ankles looked to have been crossed but had long dropped out of place in his stupor.   goofy stares for a moment until he laughs, stifling it with a gloved hand over his maw.

      ❝ –   did i talk that much ?? ❞   donald might of been onto something about him having a big mouth.  his amusement aside, he couldn’t leave riku looking like a statue so he steps over to him, so carefully taking a hold of his shoulders– usually so adapt, it surprises goofy a little how he doesn’t stir straight away… unlike sora, riku had grown into quite the light sleeper…. understandably.   and he eases him down into sitting, a chair rather conveniently behind him.   again, that was no surprise, DISNEY CASTLE was well known for it’s magic, and alive furniture… it always knew when it was needed.   it was then goofy sighs solemnly, if only there was enough of that magic to fill the gap sora left in riku’s heart.                                                                        in all their hearts.

[aelight]

‘ you deserve every ounce of happiness. ’

☆ .*･ some meme from forever ago / @dawnkeyed​

HIS  WORDS  ARE  GENTLE  ——  ;

soft  like  the  calming  canvas  of  the  ocean  ,  his  tone  lingers  like  the  manifestation  of  waves  on  shore.  his  presence  rarely  goes  unnoticed  ,  and  the  witch  wonders  if  it  was  simply  because  she  has  grown  rather  used  to  him  after  all  this  time.  his  existence  forever  tethered  to  these  chains  that  manifest  beneath  cobalt  gaze  ;  memories  belonging  to  another  or  perhaps  two  ,  his  destiny  is  fatefully woven  into  the  tales  of  land  ,  sea  ,  and  sky.  and  thus  ,  since  the  very  beginning  of  her  creation  ,  he  had  been  one  of  the  many  faces  that  she  has  grown  quite  familiar  with.

therefore  ,  she  suppose  it  wasn’t  too  surprising  that  he  would  even  take  the  time  to  listen  to  the  tragedy  of  her  woes  ;  her  hesitation  and  uncertainty  reborn  to  this  artificial  flesh  that  confines  the  resonance  of  her  own  heart.  (  she  feels  too  guilty  ),  namine  doesn’t  believe  she  deserves  this  miracle  of  life  while  another  is  missing  and  out  of  place.  their  connection  only  fading  on  whim  ,  and  she  fears  the  tiny  traces  that  remains  left  behind.

“  you  deserve  every  ounce  of  happiness “

❝  —  but  i’ve  caused  so  much  trouble  for  everyone.  ❞  cherubic  words  cannot  help  but  protest  ,  ❝  am  i  really  allowed  to  be  happy  ?  ❞  DiZ  once  told  her  that  nobodies  cannot  feel  ,  they  do  not  have  the  right  too  feel  …  but  he  was  wrong.  nobodies  can  grow  a  heart  ,  and  even  more  so  become  a  perfect  replica  of  life   ——  roxas   and  her  and  xion  too  ,  were  perfect  examples  of  this.  and  yet  ,  can  she  truly  say  that  she  belongs  ?  did  she  have  any  right  to  be  in  this  picture  filled  with  memories  ,  when  both  of  her  creators  are  missing  ?  it  pains  her  too  think  ,  but  even  so  ——  she  knows  that  neither  kairi  or  sora  would  appreciate  this  line  of  thinking  and  so  she  sighs. 

                                               (  namine  ,  your  existence  has  meaning.  )

eyes  carefully  rises  up  in  place  and  she  greets  him  with  a  strong  sense  of  realization.  although  she  was  the  anomaly  borne  from  kairi’s  heart  and  sora’s  body  ,  it  seems  that  her  understanding  was  far  less  than  that  of  riku  ;  indeed  ,  he  understood  their  hearts  even  while  they  remain  apart  and  it  was  his  message  that  embodied  all  three  of  their  hearts  words  of  validation.  from  all  of  them  to  her  ,  and  it  was  right  then  and  there  namine  smiles.

❝  maybe  …  your  right   —— no ,  you  are  right.  i  was  just  being  silly.  ❞  the  witch  of  memories  cannot  help  but  release  a  soft  sounding  laugh  ,  ❝  sora  and  kairi  wouldn’t  like  seeing  me  like  this… so  thank  you  ,  riku  ,  for  reminding  me  again  that  i  am  …  a  somebody  who  can  find  her  own  happiness.  ❞  

[destinkeys]

❝ it’s safe here. ❞

caring sentence starters

     HIS BACK SLIDES AGAINST THE WALL as he comes into contact with the ground. he’s panting , running low on breath , after running away for what had seemed like hours ( but , in reality , was probably only a few minutes ).

     ❝ you sure? ❞he eyes the other SUSPICIOUSLY – still keeping his guard up despite being miles away from the last heartless they had spotted. maybe it was because he was with riku that he still felt so uneasy. the two of them hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot , &. if he had a say in who he was going to explore the newly discovered world with , riku wouldn’t have been his FIRST choice.

     standing up once again to look outside their safe zone , roxas confirmed for himself that they weren’t still being followed. that was a good sign , at least. ❝ what if more are coming from the other direction? ❞ he doubted that the keyblade master had neglected to check , &. it wasn’t especially kind of him to QUESTION him , even if they weren’t ❛best buddies❜. ❝ sorry , i guess i’m just tense. you’re probably right. ❞

[conquerus]

🌼 + instead of it being a single flower, it's a flower crown of baby's breath, because REASONS.

he’s babey! give him a flower / accepting.

          sora’s legs pull comfortably underneath him, criss-cross applesauce. he leans back, weight on the palms of his hands, watching the light lift into the sky. it’s not the first time he’s had trouble sleeping over the last couple months, and he guesses it won’t be the last. it’s all right–donald can always take on gummi ship steering, and he can cover the rest of his nap time later on. he’s just… not tired, right now. 

         and forcing it always ends in dreams too strange to think about. blue-grey seeps into the horizon’s corners, and his lungs swell with cold air. it’s nice like this, not too quiet, reminding him a little of a time when fireflies would come around on the islands. when he was young, and had to be reminded not to catch them in tiny jars. 

          sooner than later, the quiet’s cut short by a few light steps. 

          they’re not far, and he turns his head to find riku–who he figures has the same problem. what he doesn’t expect in the same tune is the white band of small flowers in his hands. what he expects even less is the gentle way it falls onto the crown of his head, plopping conveniently over and across the worst of his spikes. 

          it’s so early, he doubts for a second–

          “riku… am i dreaming?” it wouldn’t be such a surprise, if he is. rubbing his cheeks with the palms of his hands and sitting up, he tries to shake off his head. there’s too much clarity for this to be his mind playing pretend. 

          plus, when he takes another deep breath, he can smell the flowers and their warm, faint fragrance. sora closes his eyes, thick lashes fluttering as he blinks back to the sight of his best friend. okay, there’s no way this is a dream. 

          “heh, i guess not! thanks, riku–these are great.” he has to restrain himself from poking at the flowers to sniff them a little closer, and pats the spot next to him instead. “wanna sit for a while? i was just… saying goodnight to the stars.” 

[venofire-moved]

@dawnkeyed doesn’t want me to shatter their windows.

      Her fingers set against her own lips, absent and soft as she considered what she was doing. After a moment a breath escaped her, clearly displeased by her unwillingness to proceed, then she looked up toward the stranger not far from her. “The water isn’t as... awful, as it looks, is it?” 

[zettaflarc-a]

@dawnkeyed ​ ♥’ed

“It’s— It’s not—” Sora groaned and let his body hit the sand. “It’s not fair!” he rose his arms in sheer frustration. “How can you still be so fast?”

[slowbladed]

dawnkeyed replied to your post: HOLY FUCKING SHIT.....your hair looks nice today.

NOT THE SOAP

YOU DID IT TO YOURSELF. NOW SAY AHHH~!

[eidolonmagic]

What Shape Does Your Pain Take?

A Picture.

A single image reminding you of someone or something you've lost, something you don't want to live without. You can't seem to move on, to accept life has changed, to live again.

You're trapped in the picture, in the past.

Maybe this was a lost family member or friend, maybe this was a sickness that isn't going away, maybe this was sinking into depression. But you can't help but remember how life was before, how life after will never be the same, and can't help but feel that nothing in the future will be able to fill the hole the past left.

Nothing lasts forever... Right?

Tagged by: Stolen from @dawnkeyed because he tagged everyone

Tagging: @incinders @idkmybffpyramid @asouldivided

[arch-wistcrias]

me: yk those bracelets u make in camp jaycee: caaahhhhmp??? i never went to caaaahhhhhhmp me: -bursts out into some nasty ass laughter- jaycee: whAT WAS THAT UGLY LAUGH  me: iTS MY DAWNKEY LAFF

@chatonesque

[treypug]

if you ever thought buffy's sister could be such an ass, it's because she's the.... dawnkey

[conquerus]

[ 📲 • sms ] —— are you gonna fall asleep on me?

txt me gummi one more time / accepting.

[SMS]: huuuuuuhh?????[SMS]: :///////////[SMS]: the only reason i took so long to reply was coz i was[SMS]: rsyomh vjo[s[SMS]: oh…[SMS]: I MEANT EATING CHIPS![SMS]: why… are u tired??

[venofire-moved]

character study   ——   traits & characteristics   *//  mal bertha classic novelist aesthetics.   ( bold for definitely ;   italicized for partially )

Repost, don’t reblog!

***For Tya.

JOHN KEATS.     the lavender in sunsets,   flowers in the rain,   sunlight slipping through clouds,   lazy summer afternoons,   the heavy scent of musk,   flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books,   fireflies on a cool summer night,   being wrapped in fresh bed sheets,   the ache of wanting what you can never have,   dripping sunlight like gold,   loving someone so exquisite,   soft lips and soft whispers,   fingers through hair,  names of lovers carved in trees,   broken glass,   the insistence of being perpetually dreamy.

F. SCOTT FITZGERALD.     crisp winter skies with cold bright stars,   mahogany wood,  the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog,   empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room,   bruised arms reaching out into the darkness,   cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of alcohol,   a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered,   the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment,   your favorite sweater,   parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing,   the contrast of blood against snow,   a purple split lip oozing blood,   black eyes fading to blue to pale skin,  the butterflies of falling in love for the first time,   the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries,   the romanticization of self-destruction.

FRANZ KAFKA.   the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future,   decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there,   the way not even light can escape a black hole,   the rich smell of old books,   delicate veins in the wrist,   ghosts filling lungs,   shattered bones,  raindrops on the tongue,   rusting metal,   nostalgia that aches,   the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head.

H.P. LOVECRAFT.   the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave,   pouring rain and mud,   a child’s fear of the dark,   thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never-ending ocean,   the silence of three a.m.,   ouija boards and urban legends.

JACK KEROUAC.     the brisk pine air of being on a mountain,   travels without a destination,  those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory,   screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive,   coffee shops late at night,   car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark,   naps spent in the sun,   novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins,   the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders,   ignoring flaws and loving life,   wind through hair,   depression as fog in the brain, impossible ideals,   a quiet sunrise,   walks alone,   when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe,   dazzling people,   open lands stretching out into infinity,   falling in love with being alive.

EDGAR ALLAN POE.     the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog,   hollow bones,   a preserved heart held in hands,   twinkling stars above an old graveyard,   the way everything turns to dust,   silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom,   self-inflicted flames,   perfection depicted as a rotting corpse,   death as bricks in the heart,   lips barely brushing against each other,   glassy glazed eyes,   biting into a lemon,   heart-shaped bruises,   rotting flowers on a grave,   dried blood and spilled liquor,   the hush of dusk when it begins raining,   the intimacy of a secret.

TAGGED BY: @howlingstorminside <3<3<3 TAGGING:@thesasstasticsoldier @infeliicis @kxllingjoke @mxskedboy @dawnkeyed @ofnewmoon @dionsblood @hyaciiintho @silentkniight @kcfxra @ifemerel