ioniacalls

[ioniacalls]

vahakn cavtian, "this is not love" / r.f. kuang, "the drowning faith" / silvie j.p., "please, let him be happy" / pablo neruda, "100 love sonnets" / dropdeaddream, "the thirteen letters" / caitlyn siehl, "desperate"

[ioniacalls]

" out of everyone, i thought you'd understand. can't you see, xiao hua? all of this, i did for us. " it is a desperate bid for her understanding, a wilting olive branch he offers. flowery words have never been his forte. the years have not been kind on him, on anyone. but irelia has grown much since they parted ways. he's seen as much; the conviction in how she carries herself, the way she inspires people like none he's ever seen before. it makes him proud, and also bitter. the way they idolize her and condemn her in the same breath, it makes him sick. if there is any soul who deserves to have her name on their lips, it should be him.

" if what you say is true, that you cast aside the lives of innocents for this pointless, foolish crusade, then you never understood me at all. let go of what we had, jingyi; i am not your flower, and i will not join you. "

for all his mastery over fire, it is jingyi who retracts his hand from her wrist; burned and aghast. he clenches his smouldering fists, straightening his back as he stares down the blade dancer. " you... wretched, ungrateful-! does your mouth not bleed from the ideals you spout & yet refuse to act upon? stand with the brotherhood, irelia. stand with me, or you will fail. "

oh, how he misses the admiration in her voice. whatever fondness she held for him has evaporated like morning dew in the sun. " i thank you for your kindness in warning me, jingyi. the ionia that you and i fight for are intrinsically incompatible. " as irelia finishes speaking, she raises her arms and a single leg, fingers pressing close against each other with a flat palm. the form of the crane, his mind realises after his body acts; leaping away from her as a flurry of blades land at his feet. " leave me. "

that tremble in her voice did naught but ignite the flames in his palms. " fine. have it your way, daughter of xan. " he spits, undoing the ribbon he's tied his hair with; the gift she gave to him as a child. it catches fire swiftly, and he throws it upon the ground. the surrounding dry grass glows with the flame as he readies his magic. " a dance, then. show me... the depths of your conviction by cutting me down. else, you shall burn. "

[ioniacalls]

we will live on. either in victory, or in the scars we leave on them.

writing sideblog to @fervonian. drabbles, musings, maybe occasional rping with myself if i'm feeling like it. themes of death, violence, war, etc will be present, please proceed at your own caution. personals may follow but do not interact. key characters: the xan family members. jingyi. zinneia. liana.

[ioniacalls]

Jeanette Winterson, from 'Written on the Body'

[ioniacalls]

My dreams told me more about you than you did.

Jenny Erpenbeck, Kairos, tr. Michael Hofmann

[ioniacalls]

[...] we experienced the phenomenon that lovers who are not yet lovers recognise; they are not touching, yet they feel the charge. The space in between is filled with energy. The spark. The dance. The movement.

Jeanette Winterson, Night Side of the River; from ‘No Ghost Ghost Story’

[ioniacalls]

“Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”

— Homer, The Iliad  (via sunst0ne)

[ioniacalls]

“I loved you at your darkest.”

— Romans 5:8. (via xshayarsha)

[ioniacalls]

i'll tell you when you get your soft, italicized, "oh." — the unrelated moment.

you tend to be more preoccupied with practical things, to the point where you've been blinded to matters of the heart. sure, you're close with this person. you like to be close with people. it is rewarding to know and be known in return. you leave realization no choice but to sneak up on you. they're not even in the room when it happens. someone or something else spells it out for you, an observant friend's passing comment or a particular sentence you were reading in a book, and suddenly it hits you, what it all means. the person your feelings have been building themselves around. oh. it's them. it's time. it's them and you, here and now, and you have to decide what to do at this crossroads. luckily, you're practically-minded.