French Vanilla
Timid Dabbler
mogacola
mogacola
I THINK LUTE SUMMED IT UP PRETTY NICELY BUT HERE I GOOO~
GONNA USE GIF'S TO CONVEY THESE FEELINGS~
And seki, I'm going to sound redundant with words like beautiful and love etc. because your writing style was just HHNNNGHHHH SO MUCH IMAGERY AND PRETTINESS I LOVE IT SO MUCH. While I'm reading it, I can't help but image it in a fairy-tale like style because your words makes me see the world set in canvas.
HNGHHH... the image you painted him in was wonderful. No one to believe in but himself and that he accommodated the world instead.
Reunalo the warrior, a son of violence and ambition with eyes that see beyond the immediate and the broken.
He dreams.
To change the world.THAT FINAL LINE KILLED ME. And it's scary because that he's that kind of person and he so will do exactly that.
That he wants to fix the un-fixable, the un-seeable. That life as he knows it is not what it should be because the unnameable in him has always known and always yearned for something more and something lost.
That he has lived and breathed with this secret churning in the pit of his gut since his mind allowed for memory. Maybe he is going a little too far, but what does he know of extremities? You cannot change the world with reservations tethering the possibility of miracles.THIS. THIS. AND THIS! AMMGGGG....striving and relentlessly seeking out change and never knowing when enough is enough.
SO BAMF!Reu? ******** YES!
THIS LINE IS PARTICULARLY POWERFUL FOR ME. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE OF THE PREVIOUS LINE.
He savors the sounds, the shape and corners of those syllables. E-ri-ze. The girl. The one with eyes like the ocean and hair like sand. An unnerving conspiracy of storytelling tangles the lines and crosses through walls; the sight of her flares in the center of his gaze and he digs his fingers so deeply into the memory of her pink mouth and white hands that he leaves bruises on the mental image. WOW HOLY FUDGE. THAT WHOLE THING WAS SO TANGIBLE. I can physically feel the longing and the WANTTTT.
Reunalo begins to fight an enemy he can never touch, a demon he can never confront. A mistress who too gladly takes tragedy over romance and swallows men whole without a thought.
They call her many things.
Fate. Destiny. Chance.
Love.I love HOW HE ASSOCIATES LOVE WITH THOSE THREE THINGS. And as Lute had put it, TROLOLOLOLOL'D BY LOVE.
U MAD?
These are moments that she does not police, smiles that she shares unwittingly; stolen by greedy glances, tiny pieces of her are being acquired slowly. Eridith licks her lower lip and it tastes of myth. Today the supplication is hers to raise.
Quietly, like this, Reunalo is the one being stolen. Her movements charm him and her voice paralyzes him; once, he would have laughed at the absurd. Wrangled his own throat rather than submit to useless stupor. OH. Oooohhhhh.....This is beautiful..and quite sad. She doesn't know about how he feels or how much effect she has on him and he gives her a part of himself. his attention just like that, and that that act in itself is something he never thought possible.
I DUNNO, I GRINNED LIKE A TOTAL CREEPER.
Grace is what enfolds her vision and grace is what fills her soul.
GIRL. GIRRLLLL. I don't know if I have enough skills to draw her as beautiful as how you describe her to be.
Kael watches her save countless people with a single blessing and a touch to their lonely foreheads. Awe and reluctance lodge in his sternum.A WILD KAEL APPEARED!
Oh my.... I think this is a big thing for him, that she acknowledges her as a separate entity that disassociates her from the rest of 'the world'.
/BUCKET FOR MY CREYS
That whole part was just delicious. AHHH INTERNAL CONFLICT WITH DESIRE AND AMBITION~
I LOVE LOVE LOVE THE ENDING. OHOOO I LOVE THE SMALL COMPROMISE JUST FOR HER AND THE DETERMINATION THAT HE CAN AND WILL HAVE BOTH. Or at least, he'll try to.
ASKL:FHASLKFHASLKFA
AND THEN MY REACTION WAS
BECAUSE MANNN, I don't want it to end. EVER. AHHHHHH...!!
GONNA USE GIF'S TO CONVEY THESE FEELINGS~
And seki, I'm going to sound redundant with words like beautiful and love etc. because your writing style was just HHNNNGHHHH SO MUCH IMAGERY AND PRETTINESS I LOVE IT SO MUCH. While I'm reading it, I can't help but image it in a fairy-tale like style because your words makes me see the world set in canvas.
French Vanilla
...these are things he does not need. Faith, hope, god. His life is given to himself and his wars, the burn of his weapon in his hand and the slide of blood - faintly sweet and punctured by iron dust, the thick crawl of victory upon his skin.
HNGHHH... the image you painted him in was wonderful. No one to believe in but himself and that he accommodated the world instead.French Vanilla
Reunalo the warrior, a son of violence and ambition with eyes that see beyond the immediate and the broken.
He dreams.
To change the world.
French Vanilla
That he wants to fix the un-fixable, the un-seeable. That life as he knows it is not what it should be because the unnameable in him has always known and always yearned for something more and something lost.
That he has lived and breathed with this secret churning in the pit of his gut since his mind allowed for memory. Maybe he is going a little too far, but what does he know of extremities? You cannot change the world with reservations tethering the possibility of miracles.
SO BAMF!Reu? ******** YES!
French Vanilla
She changes everything.
French Vanilla
He savors the sounds, the shape and corners of those syllables. E-ri-ze. The girl. The one with eyes like the ocean and hair like sand. An unnerving conspiracy of storytelling tangles the lines and crosses through walls; the sight of her flares in the center of his gaze and he digs his fingers so deeply into the memory of her pink mouth and white hands that he leaves bruises on the mental image.
French Vanilla
Reunalo begins to fight an enemy he can never touch, a demon he can never confront. A mistress who too gladly takes tragedy over romance and swallows men whole without a thought.
They call her many things.
Fate. Destiny. Chance.
Love.
U MAD?
French Vanilla
These are moments that she does not police, smiles that she shares unwittingly; stolen by greedy glances, tiny pieces of her are being acquired slowly. Eridith licks her lower lip and it tastes of myth. Today the supplication is hers to raise.
Quietly, like this, Reunalo is the one being stolen. Her movements charm him and her voice paralyzes him; once, he would have laughed at the absurd. Wrangled his own throat rather than submit to useless stupor.
I DUNNO, I GRINNED LIKE A TOTAL CREEPER.French Vanilla
Grace is what enfolds her vision and grace is what fills her soul.
GIRL. GIRRLLLL. I don't know if I have enough skills to draw her as beautiful as how you describe her to be.
French Vanilla
Kael watches her save countless people with a single blessing and a touch to their lonely foreheads. Awe and reluctance lodge in his sternum.
French Vanilla
Faintly, he is distracted by the priest who speaks after her, the one who bears her features and her colors. Somehow, he realizes, he has come to think that all colors belong to Erize and she merely shares it with the world.
Oh my.... I think this is a big thing for him, that she acknowledges her as a separate entity that disassociates her from the rest of 'the world'.
French Vanilla
She does not know it yet and perchance she never will.
/BUCKET FOR MY CREYS
French Vanilla
Never before has his passion been questioned or his lust been diverted. Reunalo wishes he knew how to handle this new appetite now, whether this knot is worth undoing and whether his desire to wrap their strands around his knuckles is an offense of the highest order.
Is it treason if it is disloyalty to himself?
Is it treason if it is disloyalty to himself?
That whole part was just delicious. AHHH INTERNAL CONFLICT WITH DESIRE AND AMBITION~
French Vanilla
A heady red wine fragrant enough that it haunts him even when Erize blooms in the cavern of his mouth like a sweetmeat placed just out of arm's length.
French Vanilla
Reunalo dreams of the slipping curves of her spine, her barely-there hips and delicious collarbone dips. Compromise then, for he does despise losing.
A changed world has room enough for a few more dreams.
A changed world has room enough for a few more dreams.
I LOVE LOVE LOVE THE ENDING. OHOOO I LOVE THE SMALL COMPROMISE JUST FOR HER AND THE DETERMINATION THAT HE CAN AND WILL HAVE BOTH. Or at least, he'll try to.
ASKL:FHASLKFHASLKFA
AND THEN MY REACTION WAS
BECAUSE MANNN, I don't want it to end. EVER. AHHHHHH...!!
French Vanilla
Timid Dabbler
mogacola
French Vanilla
Timid Dabbler
mogacola
peacecrafting
French Vanilla
Timid Dabbler
Ptero LaNeuro
Man-Hungry Kitten
17,650 Points
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50
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50
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50
leafeyon
Shiro Nishida
Tipsy Werewolf
French Vanilla
Timid Dabbler
Shiro Nishida
Tipsy Werewolf
French Vanilla
Timid Dabbler