#;spare rounds (ａｓｋ)

[asiifisms]

🗝

Send 🗝 to force my muse to talk about a topic they never want to speak of || Accepting

“You’re never gonna know what it’s like, Ross, to have a guy like that in your head. And I mean, literally, in there. He hears what you think, knows what you want, even before you’re thinking or wanting it. And he takes it from you, along with everything else.”

“… Really sucks.”

[asiifisms]

Me, Reads the post about some sort of dash com I don't get other then peps questioning a certain someones 'death-wish'. // Lux, immediately, not 100% getting it : Don't go??

Aww, don’t worry, Junior. He’s not gonna leave you.

Well, not yet.

[asiifisms]

“Maybe use something else than a plastic knife next time.”

⨳ — REACTIONS FOR BEING STABBED;

“Maybe don’t be so judgy. How’s that sound?”

[asiifisms]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 💜 i hope im not late!!

You’re not late at all bb!!!

[asiifisms]

Scribble onto his face with a marker pen and a Ventus flees.

Warps him into the ceiling. 

Drops him.

[asiifisms]

"Alright, that's fair."

⨳ — REACTIONS FOR BEING STABBED;

Prods her with his fork again.

“You bet it is. Now, come on - scooch over, I’ve been on my feet all day.”

[asiifisms]

🤗🎂🎉🎈

sb like this emoji spell to charge it up for me :0

[asiifisms]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY DARLING CANADIAN I HOPE YOU HAVE THE MOST BODACIOUS OF DAYS AND KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

AAAH THANK YOU I LOVE YOU TOO!!!!

[asiifisms]

morality

give me a topic to write meta on! || Accepting

a word, or something you’ve been wondering about my muse! anything!

So, like a lot of things about Braig/Xig, his morality fluctuates a lot over the course of the series. Before BBS, when he’s unscarred and 100% himself, I’m not gonna say his morals were perfect, but he tried to be good. He did his duty as a guard, he took care of his friends, and he genuinely did what he thought was right. Did he slack off with paperwork, and occasionally with patrols? Sure. He would complain about work and COs, he would every-so-often try to steal his friends’ fries, he could be pretty harsh on any subordinates who he caught messing around with weapons/artillery, but that’s as malicious as he gets. Just harmless mischief and tomfoolery. He did honestly want to help people - his friends especially. Like, the other four apprentices? This is the point in his life where he would do anything for them, within reason. He wouldn’t have killed anyone for them, or stolen anything, or anything like that, but he would’ve stood up for them to just about anyone, he’d cover shifts for them whenever they needed, he was always down to cover the cost of drinks or dinner, he absolutely would’ve paid their rent without letting them know it was him. He wanted to take care of them. And, with few exceptions, he never wanted to hurt anybody. Yeah, maybe he got into a few bar fights when he was drunk, and there were a few instances of scuffling in the Guard, but that was about it, violence-wise. Nothing too serious, and no lasting injuries.That might sound strange to some people, but remember, in the fight with Terra, Braig was under the impression that Terra was stealing peoples’ hearts. The writers made a point of having that made explicitly clear, which, to me, says that he absolutely was not the type who just served himself. He’s not the typical hired flunkie that a lot of people seemed to think he was. If he was the type who would sell himself out as a hired gun, no matter what was going on, I imagine the end conversation would’ve ended at the ‘I just want you to hold up your end of the bargain’, or a similar note. Just, ‘hey, bud, I did your dirty work, pay me, and it’s all good’. But that’s not how they finished it. Xehanort apparently felt the need to convince Braig that Terra was both dangerous and on the wrong side of morality in order to get them to fight. The next we see Braig is the Aqua fight, and at point, he’s being blatantly evil and antagonistic, yeah, but he’ also blatantly possessed, which goes on to tell me that Xehanort probably thought it was necessary to keep Braig compliant, and threats and lies weren’t enough to do that, any more. I have plenty of theories as for why this might be, but we already know from the post-Terra cutscene that, whether you subscribe to my whole ‘he wasn’t a bad person’ deal or no, we can all agree that Braig wasn’t a happy camper. I, personally, think the whole possession thing was a pretty risky move, if it wasn’t completely necessary. I mean, all it would’ve taken was one person to go ‘okay, Braig, your ears are pointed, and your eyes are bright yellow, and on top of that, you’re acting really weird, I’m taking you to a doctor and a priest. … Maybe many priests.’ And then Xehanort’s lost his ‘in’ to the castle, as well as the only guy who’d know the gist of the plan while he himself recovered from his amnesia (assuming that’s legit, but, that’s neither here nor there). Nah, I think old man Nort thought the possession was necessary, ‘cause Braig was getting wise to his schemes. There’s only so many times you can pull the ‘hey yeah this keyblader is evil, fight them for me’ before the answer is ‘no, I’m out’. He had to get his henchman, somehow.Right as soon as he’s possessed, he has no morals. It takes him a good while to get used to that much darkness in his brain/soul/heart whatever all at once, so he was sort of forced into what I can only call an ‘autopilot’ mode. He’s only really ‘him’ in the barest sense - enough to sort of fabricate a personality, but that’s about it. His ‘morality’, while his brain is still pretty much rewiring itself to avoid perma-frying, is literally whatever Xehanort wants to do. He’s a Vessel, that’s literally all he’s supposed to do. If ‘Nort thinks it would be cool to do those things, then, Braig would, too. (I still think, if Xehanort hadn’t involved the other apprentices, it would have been a lot harder for Braig to snap out of it.) I’ve written before that he seems to snap out of it about the time of the ‘is this how you wanted it?’ scene, and I’ll tell you right now, whatever part of him still hung on, whatever part of him was torn apart by that keyblade and patched together with the scraps of Xehanort, definitely shaped his morals as Xigbar.By that, I mean that Xigbar has no morals. That might be a bit of a simplification, but, that’s the best way to sum it up. He will do literally anything to further his goals. At first, the only thing he wouldn’t do is kill the other Apprentices’ Nobodies; Once he came to the discovery that this would help them get their hearts back post-haste, he would have gladly orchestrated their deaths, if he thought he could get away with it. He doesn’t have the heart to care, in both the literal and figurative sense of the term. He’s laser-focused on serving his own ends, and those ends are to see the other Apprentices recompleted, and Xehanort destroyed. He’s pretty sure that, for that last one, he’s going to need the Keyblade War, in some capacity, so that’s another thing he needs to get ticked off. So, as long as whatever he’s doing contributes to any of those three goals, he’ll do it with zero hesitation. Hell, before he got recompleted as ‘Braig’, Rodi and I had a thread where good ol’ Xig was prepared to offer his own ‘romantic’ partner up to Xehanort to make sure there’d be enough vessels for the war. (’Romantic’ in quotes because… Xig’s literally heartless. Doesn’t really feel those things.)

He does what needs to be done. Leave the heartache and goody-two-shoes ‘moral high ground’ for the keyslingers.

[asiifisms]

Shield

Send “Shield” for my muse’s reaction to yours placing themselves between my muse and danger. || Accepting

Send “sword” for my muse to put themselves between your muse and danger. || Accepting

Fifteen years.

Fifteen long, gruelling, cold years. Years of emptiness, and darkness, and gold eyes and collapsing realities. Fifteen years, and it was finally coming to an end. 

The plans he’d spent nearly a lifetime laying out were finally coming to a head; there was nothing left for him to map out. All that he had to do now was sit back and let the Darkness do its work. 

The scent of sugary rot filled the air, leaking off of him and the destruction the others were wreaking left, right, and centre. Or– Had wrought. Looked like most of them had been worn down, just as he had.

Good.

He stopped trying to hold himself up, going from kneeling to collapsing in the dirt, breath coming in shallow, ragged pants. It was different, this time, than it had been in the Castle That Never Was. He wasn’t sure why. The sound of dirt crunching under boots drew his waning consciousness - they weren’t hurried, or desperate, or even all that concerned in their stride, like he’d expected them to be. Fading vision glanced up to the impassive face of the one who’d started it all. He was fairly sure he heard a quiet snort of- Disgust, perhaps, or indifference, or some such thing, exit the old master’s lips, and, in response, the shattered Vessel at his feet forced a grin. 

How poetic it was, for them to end just as this had started: The king and his grinning jester, shrouded in darkness. The keyblade in the master’s hand was held aloft, aimed to the Vessel’s chest. While he wasn’t entirely sure of the nitty-gritty stuff, the Vessel had some idea of what his ultimate fate would be. To quite literally take strength from another’s heart… What an interesting play on the lightsider’s go-to speech. 

Gold eye locked on gold eyes, nothingness reflected nothingness, and some part of him vaguely wondered what he could do to turn this in his favour, but, no. His days of pulling the strings were over. 

It’d been a good run, at least.

In the span of a blink, the world had exploded in white, and he felt nothing.

Nothing, save for the burning in his eyes.

Ow, that had been bright. He blinked, face scrunching just a bit against the discomfort, and when his vision cleared, he didn’t quite know what to make of what he saw.  Neither, apparently, did Xehanort. 

Standing between the king and the broken waste at his feet was a young girl, brilliant with internal light and righteous with a fury not seen in this world for at least an age. The bright teeth of her keyblade bit into No Name’s dark finish like a beast uncaged; If she is afraid, he cannot see it from where he lies. There is the faint scrape of earth as her heel digs into the ground, shifting as Xehanort regains his composure and returns the pressure, but she otherwise holds firm. A princess such as her bows to no one, after all, and certainly not a withered husk of darkness. 

And the Vessel, discarded, shattered, struck dumb by the events unfolding, feels not confusion, nor anger, nor fear, nor sadness, nor relief - Only one word resonates in his mind, one which infuses his entire being, or lack-there-of, with its power:

…

What.

[asiifisms]

💞💞💞💞💞💞

My muse is losing hope and slowly drifting towards the side of evil. Send 💞 to try to save them, or 😈 to encourage them! || Accepting

It was so hard to be who they thought he was. So hard to pretend there was anything left that hadn’t been ripped out and stepped on, hadn’t been warped to the point of being unrecognisable.

Everyone seemed so happy that ‘Braig’ was back. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that he wasn’t quite so sure. There were lingering traces of the old man, caught in the corners of his vision when he glimpsed his reflection in store windows (what colour had his eyes been, just then?), when the hallways were darker than usual (was it just him, or were the shadows stretching towards him, twisting into crooked hands?), when flowers began to die and the scent of life faded to the scent of rot.

When they smiled at him and greeted him like nothing had ever torn them apart.

As though he had never…

He sighed.

It was only a matter of time.

There was only so much pretending he could do in one lifetime, and he’d spent most of it, already. He knew he could never be That Person again; What would be the point, anyway? That was the one thing he and the old man had agreed on.

A shift in the couch signalled the presence of another, sitting beside him; He barely had the time to look up before a strong arm wraps around his shoulders. It’s not the first time this has happened; It’s not the second or even the fifth. 

He can’t hold himself together.

But, he doesn’t need to.

A mountain is steadfast, strong, unwavering; No storm can bend it, no force on earth make it crumble. 

The brother at his side is a mountain made flesh, and more than happy to hold onto him, for as long as is needed.

That’s just what family did.

[asiifisms]

Dad + when was the last time you told your son you loved him? //if he dodges this one i'm kicking the shit out of him

Send me ‘Dad’+ A Question and my muses Father will answer it  || Accepting

“I don’t see why that’s important. Though, if you must have the truth - I can’t quite recall.”

“Perhaps I’ve been busy with something more important than simple platitudes.”

[asiifisms]

kairi has died

“…..has died.” finish it in my ask. || Accepting

News travelled fast, in the guard. It always did. That’s what happens when you have a group of people living and working in close quarters, and had been doing so for years and years. 

So, he was surprised that it’d taken this long for him to find out.

For anyone to tell him.

He’d just been thinking to himself how quiet the castle seemed, lately, and for the life of him, he couldn’t put his finger on why that might be.

It wasn’t that the apprentices were doing safe experiments.

It wasn’t that rookies weren’t getting yelled at by their COs.

Things still blew up, orders were still barked, patrols were still carried out, and the flowers still bloomed.

Life went on.

For everyone, that is, except the princess.

The earth crunched quietly under his feet. 

You would think there would be a big announcement about it, or something, but apparently, it was still under investigation, and, therefore under wraps. 

The guards at the door might have said ‘goodbye’ to him as he left; He couldn’t tell. He gave a halfhearted wave, regardless. He was too focused on his own thoughts to tell, or care.

The sun was warm against his skin, almost uncomfortable under the thick fabric of his uniform. He tugged at his scarf, keeping his gaze on the dust-covered streets. 

She was just a kid - Only four, if he’d heard right. 

Who the hell would kill a four-year-old?

A bitter, humourless smirk tugged at his lips, but it didn’t last, instead falling into a pained grimace,

The buildings around him thinned out. He gave a tug on space, let himself vanish and re-emerge farther away.

He knew who it was.

Oh, he knew.

He’d known for a while, now. He’d been told explicitly, and what had he done? He’d walked away. Turned his back on the man who could’ve prevented this, treated it all like some damn joke. If he’d listened… If he’d only listened, ignored the discomfort in his chest and done his job as a guard, then there’d be one less grave in the royal cemetery. … How did you plan a funeral for a baby?

Did they make coffins that small?

It was quiet, out here, only the sound of his footsteps and the howling of the wind. The sun still beat down, stronger here than it was before.

He’d known that monster was targeting princesses. 

He’d known.

And he’d done nothing. 

And now a child had been killed. A poor, innocent little girl who’d never done anything to hurt anyone had been cut down in cold blood, and for what?

That, he didn’t know.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to. 

But, he did know what he was going to do about it.

The sent of dust and sun was replaced with caramelised death; Sickly sweet and cloying. He didn’t look up, didn’t look behind him, but did note the wisps of deep purple-black that usually heralded that man’s arrival. The warmth from the sun seemed to drain away, pursued by a chill oozing down his spine.

He turned, thumbs hooked into his belt, and flashed a forced smile that didn’t reach the tumult in his eyes.

“Hey, old timer. Still need someone to take out that keyslinger?”

[asiifisms]

“no, i don’t need you.” [ y o u t o l dm e to ]

five word prompts

He sighs, glancing up to the sky before returning his head to its usual position. There was no surprise on his face; In fact, it would be hard to describe his expression as anything but ‘neutral��.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, princess,” he said, one hand on his hip. “Gimme a day to get back on my feet, and I’ll be out of your hair, for good.” He walked a few steps past her, and he smirked, the faintest note of amusement entering his voice.

“Won’t that be nice?”

[asiifisms]

Do you think Braig/Xigbar would be a dog- or a catperson? Asking for a friend... >.>

Dog person. He’s allergic to cats, and his friend Maria ( @soldierunderfire , loml) once gave him a puppy. 

His reaction was to say, ‘Dad will literally kick me out for good if I bring this dog home’, and then add ‘his name is Brutus and he’s my best friend.’

Braig also wound up with a dog during his travels with Luxu ( @keyraised ). Its name was Amigo and he bought it a red scarf to match his.

Once, he convinced Xion ( @lostinmemory ) to put off his keyblade training for a day to let the two of them spend the entire day at a dog park.

Dogs are his favourite animals.

[asiifisms]

a f f e c t i o n ? ? ?

FIRST FIVE IN MY INBOX GETS A RANDOM ACT OF AFFECTION FROM MY MUSE! || Accepting (1/5)

He’s been observing her progress, sipping coffee from a mug as she goes. She’s a fast learner - Or, maybe it’s more that she’s a hard worker. Both are good for a budding sharpshooter. He strolled over to her side, waited until she was finished, then gave the slightest tug to reality to put himself in front of the target. He crouched to inspect it, tracing the distance from the points of impact to the bull’s-eye, then warped back to her side.

“Not bad, Kairi. You’re getting the hang of things.” This is accompanied by tousling her hair, and a bright grin. “Keep an eye on that wind, though. It’ll mess your angle up, if you’re not careful.”