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HOLLERS LOUDLY AT THIS SHIT

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[ hiii. I'll be back soon. i just need to pin down a new job. sorry. :( ]

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The English version of the Tsukuyomi theme song, translation and explanation.

According to the songwriter, the Japanese portion of the lyrics represent the voice of she who has become Tsukuyomi, while the English portion features the voices of those who have restrained her (represented with the fiercer tone in the male chorus).

Throughout the entire song, the structure of the song goes back and forth between the two voices singing to one another.

In a story of revolution and liberation, she also fought to try and release herself, which was included as the final line of the song.

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HOW MANY must f a l l  until there is PEACE for all 

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[ real sorry for my inactivity as of late. been busy on top of being... *noncommittal hand wiggle* ]

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You can still turn back Tsuyu. He'd understand.

    ☾ > TURN BACK & FIND REDEMPTION, exist whilst attempting your utmost best to NOT REMEMBER. Such a … precious set of recollections, such a beautiful / BLISSFUL DREAM spun out of keepsakes merging & trans-mutating; manipulating memories & mood. Aye, those sentiments of GLEE, of PEACE, of PROSPERITY: rip them out of your skull, drag them! Seer them out, leave them to rot! Oh, please, please, please purge them, scorch them … OBLITERATE … – Tsuyu, this wretched, piteous creature. This detestable, gullible fool, this GIRL whose very entity had nestled itself inside this tainted heart akin to an “all-cleansing” / “all-redeeming” nightmare. No, all remembrance triggered was sorrow. A new kind of agony which her vile heart / WRETCHED THING could not stomach. Her decaying heart? It ached, it broke, it suffered. 

          turn back, Tsuyu … he’d understand.

         Back here / IN THE CASTRUM, with hands buried in stacks of familiar clothes, with fingers running across silk & satin, the mere idea stung in one’s heaving chest; like acid, ASH on the tip of her tongue. throat clogged & dried out / SUFFOCATE. Breath rasped by exhaustion & a fight she would never win. VICEROY YOTSUYU, witch of Doma. ’ Change out of these rags. They will be here soon, dear sister. ’ Everything twisted, turned SCREAMED. – turn back, back to whom? To those she LOATHED / HATED / SCORNED? Back, back to those who had shown her this … god-forsaken KINDNESS; back into arms that had hold a frightened child ? Aye she recalled SAMURAI’S care: akin to a wayward daughter, he had cradled TSUYU in his arms, his tears felt on the back of dipped head. 

           Features derail, nails digging into the cloth, painted lips parting when a / two / three muffled sob surfaced; THIS NAME, CONDEMNED WENCH. Begone, die, CEASE. –!! These memories … RIP THEM OUT! No, no you are beyond redemption. This kindness? SCORCH IT. Rake your feeble, feckless brain, pound them out, GRIND them out. Incinerate it all, set yourself on fire hoping that cleansing flames would rid you off those MEMORIES. – dango, persimmon … sitting in the sun with a genuine smile worn on honeyed lips. T E A R  THEM OUT!!! Cue a scream in frustration, the ripping sound of fabric. She HAULS dresses away, she smites the wooden box into mere bits. She feels pain, she feels this sickly sweet AGONY prompted by a bleeding wound. Collapse; knees hitting marble tiles. – THIS IS WHAT YOU KNOW. WHAT YOU LOVE. WHAT YOU DESIRE. DROWN IN THIS SENSATION; let it engulf you, let it guide you to your tormenting / righteous / HOLLOW relief. Tranquility found in distress, numb, numb, numb yourself. BAN THESE THOUGHTS; purge them with pictures of war & calamity. Become cold again, distant. Aspire GODHOOD [TSUKOYOMI]; rise & transcend. 

      Tsuyu is dead. DEAD DEAD DEAD!      & so… so are you.

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[ look at him. look at gosetsu looking at his lil shun, all grown up. ]

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What interests me is living and dying for what one loves.

Albert Camus (via crimsonkismet)

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‘ i don’t know if it is true but i would like to believe it ’

He isn’t sure, either.

For all he might tell her of kami-given second chances and consciences and forgiveness, he simply doesn’t know if she really will be able to live a regular life. Gosetsu simply isn’t capable of judging the grace of the average Doman that way. He wants to believe that they are nobler and kinder than that, of course he does– he has fought so long and hard for them, it is painful to think otherwise.

Yet, is she not living proof of their capacity for evil? For willful ignorance, for cruelty?

Gosetsu will not pretend to be unbiased. He was there when she awoke on that island beside him, when her doll’s eyes were filled with a curiosity and a thirst for life he recognised in a child. his child, his sweetling fuyuko

He nearly wept in sympathy, in pain, in relief, that even she could learn to want to live again. Gosetsu allowed himself a grandiose thought then, that the kami had shown him this sight, for he was to be the one to nurture that rekindled spark–He was to be the one to show her the other side of life’s coin.

No matter what, he will show her. This is the singular thought that he holds onto, to give him hope.

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these were drawn in may but due to spoilers im putting them on queue

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‘ when I was five, I burned my hand on the stove my mother never warned me not to touch ‘ tsu

[ poetry starters - accepting ]

An innocent confession, simple and almost laughable to think something so endearingly clumsy could be attributed to the Witch of Doma.

Such things were expected of children, after all; mistakes born of curiosity, of overestimation, rebellion. The image of a child weeping over a burn from a fire could hardly be reconciled with her cultivated image of a deliberate, cunning predator, but--

Gosetsu understands. If it was not cruelty, her aunt would neglect her. Of course at that age she’d never learned what could hurt her-- nobody cared enough about her safety to teach as such. His heart aches again for the child at the start of Yotsuyu’s blood-soaked road to her present, as it ever does.

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‘ what a piteous tragedy you turned out to be ’

[ poetry starters - accepting ]

Tragedy?

Gosetsu has lived through little in his life that could be described quite so dramatically. No– save for the deaths of his family, and his revered lord, he is sure that the acting viceroy with her geta planted squarely on his cheek is the true tragedy here.

Oh, how she would scowl and hiss for hot brands to be shoved under his nails if she knew that was what he thought of her; but he feels it all the same. What a tragedy, the orphan of the Naeuri is. To have lived quite so terrible a life, to have her ambition be solely to pay them all back with cruelty and pain.

He cannot claim to understand– His parents did not think him lesser than dirt, nor was he married off to someone whose beatings of him were likely to be the least of their offenses, or sold to give his body in sexual submission.

But he knows that those who lived around her had failed this child of Doma, in simply ignoring her pain.

For she who was raised entirely in hatred, he feels naught but pity.

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[ i want a gosetsu dupe so we can be old together. ]

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its ya girl naomi bringing you an all-new blog for yotsuyu of ffxiv. pretty majorly canon-divergent in regards to patch 4.3, personal canon will remain updated & tagged appropriately. maladaptive coping mechanisms abound under this roof, if you like complex & inexcusable villains with behaviors extremely rooted in their upbringing & early life (or just really like having your shit wrecked in tsukuyomi ex) like or reblog this post and i’ll check you out.

i’ve legit never played a mainline ff game in my life so i’ll still follow people from those but idk anything abt them lmao. im a little scrub!