#helxel

[fuckiiisms]

There's something disturbing about recalling a warm memory and feeling utterly cold.

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

[a-crocusblooms]

JADE, AND HISUI’S RELATION TO IT (PART 3/?).

                 ( JADE: PART ONE, PART TWO. )

As stated in the previous parts of this headcanon, Hisui actually only owns one piece of Jade jewellery - an enchanted amulet with healing properties that brings luck and serenity to its user, as are the properties of the gemstone itself.

This is not an item of jewellery that she keeps for herself.

Instead, it is something that she gives to those who serve at her side - in particular, her personal guard, or someone in a position in the army's ranks that works in very close correspondence with the Princess herself.

In recent canon & headcanon history, this amulet was worn by Arcadios, the knight who - as we know - served as Hisui's personal guard and Commander of the Crocus Royal Guard. She saw him as an uncle-figure, someone she truly could trust with her life and her well-being, and someone who always been especially kind to her.

( IMPORTANT C!D HEADCANON: CLICK HERE TO READ. ) 

When Archie dies saving Lucy and Yukino from the lava and the amulet is retrieved from him, Hisui holds onto it for a long time before giving it to anyone else. This is because she is very reluctant to find a replacement to fill his specific role in her life, due being unable to cope with and properly grieve his loss for many, many months. 

( Her father, as usual, has other ideas. Though on this occasion, that isn't really a bad thing. )

In most Fairy Tail verses, this amulet is eventually given away again, this time to her new guard (which, depending on the specific verses, will either be Yukino or Yerik). This will only be done when she is finished denying herself the right to come to terms with Arcadios' loss, and she realises that - though she has been reluctant to allow them to become close to her - Yukino/Yerik have nothing but her best interests at heart, and are just as worthy of her trust and respect as the man before them had been.

She gives it to them because, eventually, she treasures their loyalty, friendship and strength just as much as she treasured Archie's. The gift of this amulet signifies her will for them to be the ones to protect her, and it is far more useful than just a simple ‘thank you’ on its own.

[hundrednxght-blog]

Send me a ★ and a Name OR Ship/Brotp and Ill make an aesthetic Accepting

BROTP Aesthetic for @venomoustigress​ and my @helxel​

[v-venenatorum-blog]

@helxel (x)

Fuck.

He couldn’t help staring. This woman had always been an intriguing figure for a vast array of reasons, and she was dangerous to him. Erik found himself getting just a little too comfortable whilst spending time in her presence, and comfort was a feeling he’d purposefully distanced himself from for a long, long time. “Uh...”

There was a short pause, considering his options. “...Nah, it’s fine. I’m not really here for anythin’ in particular.”

[fuckiiisms]

It is so hard to leave--until you leave. And then it is the easiest goddamned thing in the world.

Paper Towns by John Green

[v-venenatorum-blog]

If you're still doing the URL thing, Yuki's? :)

MEME / accepting. @helxel

[fuckiiisms]

Love is the world's infinite mutability; lies, hatred, murder even, are all knit up in it; it is the inevitable blossoming of its opposites, a magnificent rose smelling faintly of blood.

Tony Kushner

[v-venenaarchive-blog]

Poison by Groove Coverage makes me think of Erik and Yukino a lOT

8D ~~ 

[fuckiiisms]

I always thought of it like you said, that all the strings inside him broke. But there are a thousand ways to look at it: maybe the strings break, or maybe ships sink, or maybe we're grass--our roots so interdependent that no one is dead as long as someone is still alive. We don't suffer from a shortage of metaphors, is what I mean. But you have to be careful which metaphor you choose, because it matters. If you choose the strings, then you're imagining a world in which you can become irreparably broken. If you choose the grass, you're saying that we are all infinitely interconnected, that we can use these root systems not only to understand one another but to become one another. The metaphors have implications. Do you know what I mean?... I like the strings. I always have. Because that's how it feels. But the strings make pain seem more fatal than it is, I think. We're not as frail as the strings would make us believe. And I like the grass, too. The grass got me to you, helped me imagine you as an actual person. But we're not different sprouts from the same plant. I can't be you. You can't be me. You can imagine another well--but never quite perfectly, you know?

Paper Towns by John Green

[v-venenaarchive-blog]

[/inserts symbol thing for an accidental text~]

x

He had to give himself some credit. It wasn't often that he mananged to snag the numbers of pretty ladies who came and went through the busy bar, but for once his advances had been a success. Not that he was really sure where he'd proceed from here - he had assumed his attempts to obtain her digits would fail outright, so there had been no pre-planning of routes for progression.

He'd finished work late, and was left laying awake on his father’s couch. He spent a good half hour writing and re-writing the first text he would send to her, as if it were going to be an outright proposal of his love rather than just an attempt at wooing her into his bedroom...or her bedroom. Or somewhere out the back of the bar. Wherever he could find, really.

In the end, he gave up, leaving a half finished message in the text box before propelling himself into the depths of sleep, phone dropping and rolling beneath his unconscious form. The horrors that had ensued throughout the night would be left only to be revealed to him when morning came.

[ .TEXT: BRAT. ] Hey, it's the guy from the bar. You gave me your number last night and I was wondering if you'd like to .##../ / //  wwwww qws axc \, 

[fidelii]

Dear person I hate

dear father,are you surprised to hear from me? suppose you are, it has been a while since youheard from me. i assume that you are still alive, not that i care much about this. i havenot cared about whatever you do in many years now, a feeling that has been mutualfor more than forty years now right?

what i do care about is this: grandmotherwas your mother. and whileshe has not been able to be the mother you wanted her to be ( ever considered thatmaybe, you were not the son she wanted either? ), she was the woman who tried herhardest to raise you into someone with a spine, with a conscience. it is beyond mehow she could not succeed at this, but then — it is you so maybe my surprise shouldnot feel this genuine. 

and youdid not come to her funeral.

not evento see if she had really died.

a funeral,of course, is for the living rather than for the dead.

and i guess that simple factis why i expected you to show — to play the mourning son, the poor man who haslost everyone. and youknow what? i wouldn’t even have called you out on that lie. the world would haveremained in the illusion that in the past fifty years, there has been someone youcared about, someone who has not been yourself. or my mother. i would have let youlie, because your lie would have benefitted grandmother, would have made it easierto believe that she has been loved.

i cannotpretend that i feel anything but varying shades of distaste for you, but i did notlie when i said that i would miss my grandmother. and i would have tolerated yourpresence, for her sake. because i know what it is like to be grateful — and i am still so very grateful whenever i think about her. 

but yes,i am still not going to pretend that i could look at you and feel something thatis not dislike.

—u.