#hisrising

[enginaers]

❛   ▌┊𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 :   joshua  ( @hisrising ) .

𝐈𝐅 𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃, Mid said nothing of it when she spotted him at the entrance to her workshop. She understood feeling restless. Mid was never quite satisfied unless she was doing something, whether that was pounding away at a piece of metal or drawing out intricate plans for her next big project. Moments were never quiet with her, and she liked it that way.

Mid paused in her work. She'd been sketching out ideas for a new project when he'd shown up; but now that he was here, she gave Joshua her full attention.

❝ Feeling better, are you? ❞ she asked, a slight amused lilt to her tone. ❝ Well, you don't look ready to keel over, so that's a start. ❞

[regaeliabyeeeee]

      noctis assesses the man in front of him with unyielding fervor, brow creased in intense thought until : " so... when i use a phoenix down — not that i'm saying i use them often... that's you ? "

@hisrising sc.

[benydikta]

" i besiege you, leave my companion be and speak to me directly. "

     ･     𝚄𝙽𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝙴𝙳    :     @hisrising !

𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝚂𝙽𝙴𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙲𝚁𝙰𝚆𝙻𝚂 𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝙱𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙳𝙸𝙺𝚃𝙰'𝚂 𝙼𝙾𝚄𝚃𝙷, chittering;   it is as disarming as the patient pace of a spider and ill-meaning.     [ do they not see how they curl into each other,   limb stuck to limb, fiercely interwoven? ]     that desire to protect one another may have incited pity in a woman less vile     ━    but here in the dank,    hollowed-out dark,   all benedikta can see is the strings that keep them together.   pluck and cut.

        ‘‘  you besiege me?  ’’      laughter is a huff inside her mouth but it does not find it's way out;   it leaves a lacquer of residue,   a foul casing over her features.        ‘‘  would you be more amenable to my demands if i did?   ’’      her gaze rolls from companion to dominant both;   assessing, lax,   the undercurrent of a creature hungry.   how the companion lunges,   desperate to be a meager shield,   and the dominant folds, and folds, and folds.

she would sigh at the spectacle if she were not here for that singular,    tunneled dream,   the one that would explain all that callousness to the cavity ever widening in her heart.        ‘‘  but since you are so insistent.  ’’      she gestures for one of her guards to drag the dominant's companion out,   arms first,   legs dragging across the ground,   WATCHING CLOSE TO SEE THOSE FACES CRUMPLE.

benedikta bends at her knees,   tilts her head at the dominant hidden under the hood.        ‘‘  your ally will be well taken care of.   for now, ’’      she says,   syrupy sweet and well-composed,   absent of even a sliver of compassion to worm its way through,         ‘‘  as long as you can do something for me. ’’      

leaning in close,   she says,         ‘‘  pledge your life to waloed.   or, better yet,   show me the fire you are blessed with.   show me the power of a dominant. ’’      what worth is a dominant who never uses their power anyway,   AT EVEN THE RISK OF THOSE THEY CARE FOR?

[inproelia]

❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ 

✘ — ;It was a rarity when Clive took it upon himself to kick his feet up and relax. He swirled the pool of red liquid in his cup, staring at the mess of his reflection as the water stilled before he took a gulp. There was a war of thoughts in his mind; poems of anger and regret – songs of lamentations.

Yet, there was one thing that constantly made its way to the forefront of it all. It was a trivial concern really – especially in the grand scheme of things considering the world was on its last leg against Ultima and his blight. But regardless, Clive was haunted by this one question he couldn't shake. Much to his surprise, it was as if great Greagor read his mind and placed his brother in his company. Clive snapped from his cogitations and turned to meet his brother’s gaze and gentle smile.

He held his stare before shining him a reflecting expression and nodding.  “The best I could ever ask for.” He replied airily, placing his cup on the table.  But, as the two sat beside one another, silence lingered instead. The sounds of the night filled the lack of noise between them; the waves dancing along the night breeze and the parties of people off in the distance.

Clive could feel it, the tension growing in the air – or perhaps it was just him. He wanted to ask – spit it out. The words lingered upon the tip of his tongue but retreated down his throat every time he thought he had summoned the courage to speak them. It was then a sigh forced its way out from reluctant lips and he knew that his observant little brother would take notice. Clive bowed his head and took a moment to reflect on the words he wished to convey, knowing that now he could not simply hide and keep it inside.

“Joshua…” He started with a solemn tone – another sigh sneaking through his pale red lips.  Clive raised his head and gazed at the full moon above, pleading for some sense of wisdom and strength to carry on with this damn conversation. Even if the answer was not something he wanted to hear – damn it all, he needed to hear it.

Finally, he turned his attention back to his brother and took a deep breath, paused and then said, “…Why was it that you…hid yourself from me all these years?” He could imagine that the Undying, whose sole purpose was to keep the keeper of the throne alive, made it priority that the Phoenix stay away from Ifrit given the circumstances of what transpired at Phoenix Gate. But Clive wanted to hear it directly from his brother and not allow his mind to wander any longer.

“…Was it because I…” He faltered, taking his eyes off his brother and down to his blood stained hands.

' Was it because I nearly killed you?'

@hisrising

[equescaeli]

@hisrising || 𝐿𝐼𝒦𝐸𝒟 for a 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒯𝐸𝑅

Some mornings truly were meant for quiet observation; the way the breaking of dawn painted the sparsely clouded heavens in mixed tones of beauteous pink and orange. The very warmth radiated from the view itself was enough to instil a newfound quantity of resolve within ones heart; a promise that ones strength to get through the trials of the day ahead would be enough.

Each day does he begin the very same; honey brown eyes fixated upon the horizon with hope sinking into the marrow of his very bones. Change could be smelled upon the breeze, and whether it would lead to the best or the worst outcome, they would not yet know. Time - - it would tell whether they'd done enough; and the very weight of that responsibility sometimes grew too much for shoulders yet young to the world surrounding.

Useless; he felt useless. Much remained to be done, much needed to be addressed and yet he found himself bound to the comforts of a bed, still. The furthest he had been deemed fit enough to pace to was the nearby window, and slowly - - the confines of the infirmary within the Hideaway he had not known to exist until arrival began to gnaw 'pon his comfort.

Polite smiles and quietude became second nature, his mind finding far too much time to lurk and linger upon thoughts that only bought dismay and emotional agony; a self-torture, of sorts. How could he not-- memories were fragmented, blurred and spotty and yet - - and yet - - he can recall some of the vulgarities that now haunted him and robbed him of sleep.

"I admire your ability to get up so very quickly." Honeyed eyes had closed once words were uttered, periphery taking note of a familiar figure walking into view beforehand. "It appears that I take longer to recover each time I am put down, nowadays."

Agitation briefly writes itself across his expression ere it is replaced by a small, appreciative smile, eyes reopening to regard his company as kindly as he can muster. Much continues to happen, gets overwhelming, and yet Joshua - - continues even with his stacked difficulties. An inspiration, he thinks.

"I would much rather be upon my feet sooner, but I dare not anger your healer, Tarja. I dare say she may just shackle my wrist to the bed frame if I do not behave-" His smile remains, the slight jest to his tone suggesting he is feeling better than he had been and now naught short of raring to go, even if bruising yet lingers and soreness sits within bones.

Time was short- they had not endless hours to spend.

[cinderella-gurei]

i don’t want you to be alone. / for olivier !

miscellaneous angst starters

The words are odd to him in between the turmoil. No one else had ever shown concern for him other than his parents, and he never truly listened to anyone else. But right now, who was left for him? The two who cared for him were gone, though he couldn't quite understand it. He didn't want to be alone, but he didn't know these people. He didn't know the man showing concern. So, his face lowered in fear.

"But I am alone... Mother refuses to move. And Father is..." The memories are blurry, fuzzy with the grip of another in his consciousness.

"Not only them, even he left..." Him, the voice that whispered to Olivier from time to time, the one his mother also ignored -- his imaginary friend. It was he who took the reins for but a brief moment and he who also disappeared when everyone was gone. All that was left was the sinking feeling of being lost, of wanting desperately to return to what he had. It wasn't fair for him to feel this way!

"I want Mother back... I want home back!" He demands, but even then his voice wavers, and so does his meek body, stepping back, further away from the one exchanging words with him -- his brother?

@hisrising

[tripleflames]

relationship tags.

[steed-of-waloed]

USE THIS WEBSITE TO GENERATE YOUR MUSE’S POKEMON TEAM.

It was mandatory for him to have one dark horse so ofc he has Spectrier who evolves to Calyrex who has a rider on it.

Aegislash and Absol are his beat the shit out of ur enemies with pals crew.

Ninetails and Milotic cause he's a fabulous bitch~

and...an Espeon because it matches Barnabas's Umbreon

Tagged by: Nobody Tagging: @waloedrex @cidolfvs @ifritys @wyvern-flames @domitantmal @tsckcyomi @goddessofseas @aeniqmata @coldwake @phoenix-flamed @phoenixblessing @ifritmade @eikonshiva @rosfieldx @glacierites @diions @oframuh @rosflames @m-ythos @hisrising @ofdominants @stellarisen @flame-branded

& Anyone else!

[sarastuss-a]

WHAT SHAPE DOES YOUR PAIN TAKE?

𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄. a picture. a single image reminding you of someone or something you've lost, something you don't want to live without. you can't seem to move on, to accept life has changed, to live again. you're trapped in the picture, in the past. maybe this was a lost family member or friend, maybe this was a sickness that isn't going away, maybe this was sinking into depression. but you can't help but remember how life was before, how life after will never be the same, &. can't help but feel that nothing in the future will be able to fill the hole the past left. nothing lasts forever … right?

tagged by : @klaeus , the sweetest! 💛 tagging : @myrlin , @chantlar , @dollpink , @croftborn , @riidcr , @lucisking , @otlaw , @glacierites , @hisrising , @sylkshe , @arkhameir , @ichoric ( ali mayhaps? ) &. you!!

[liegacy]

#LIEGACY.               𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓      …     

ㅤㅤdamien,          25 +,          ʰᵉ   &   ᵗʰᵉʸ,          est.         𝟎𝟑 / 𝟏𝟓 / 𝟐𝟒

𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗣𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗧   +   𝗦𝗘𝗟𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘,         ᶜᴸᴼ��ᴰ ˢᵀᴿᴵᶠᴱ,          of   SQUARE ENIX'S    “   𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 𝒗𝒊𝒊      “     remake, rebirth, original & AC inspired.   18 + ONLY

‎‎ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ affiliated with : @anancient, @regaelia, @innocentsbled, @otlaw & @steeprice

‎ ㅤ 𝙸𝙵 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚈𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶'𝚂 𝙰 𝙳𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙼, 𝙳𝙾𝙽'𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝙴!

graphics credit goes to the lovely and talented : anancient !!! + icon border by b1gtimerush

my other FF blogs: @hisrising & @starshel

[regaeliabyeeeee]

" come here, please. allow me tend to your ails. "

     " it's fine. " they are words only too commonplace amongst his tongue, as he is fit to keep them tethered tight to the heavy burden of his birthright. for to who is a king unable to carry the weight ? the crown weighs heavy, as do his rehabilitations, the soft grip of his knee brace ever present and reminding the young prince of everyone tasked to one simple order : keep him alive.

     he looks to joshua, eyes clouded with hesitancy. how long had it been since he'd last accepted any form of relief ? too long, in hindsight. the ache that travels down his spine is all too pressing against his being — that terrible, rotting pain that reminds him of memories long unearthed from the grave he'd forced them into. scourgesick rotted teeth, blood - soaked earth [ ... ] the call of a father desperate for his son.

     a morbid reverie is interrupted by this : twin fire eyes stare back into him, dislodging the hard stuck memory of his childhood in a single gaze. he shrugs away the concern placed in front of him, much more fit to keep things to himself instead. " don't worry about it . "

@hisrising <3

[rosahope]

based on the colour wheel theory of love. repost, do not reblog. bold the traits of each type of love that are most relevant to your muse.   **(   crossed out = no.   )  🍁

all types of love are valid with both benefits and pitfalls. people exhibit them in different ways with different people, but tend to follow patterns. everyone experiences more than one.

𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒   (   𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐋��𝐕𝐄   )   𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘   /   𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘   /   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍   :   feels strong physical and emotional connection through the relationship   /   begins with a partner who is a stranger and evokes immediate excitement   /   may be exclusive but not possessive   /   seeks early sexual adventure, variety, and technique   /   is ready for love and the risks.

𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐔𝐒   (   𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄   )   𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆   /   𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   /   𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓   :   is not ready to commit to anyone   /   has no intention of falling in love   /   is anxious about a partner who is too intimate   /   allows early sexual activity only for fun without emotional connections.

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄   (   𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄   )   𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘   /   𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 & 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒   /   𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓   :   is not looking for love but is ready if encountered   /   is quietly possessive but not overly jealous   /   believes love comes from friendship but not a goal of life   /   only has sexual desires after commitment is declared.

𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀   (   𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄   )   𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍   /   𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒   /   𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘   (   𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐮𝐬 + 𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬   )   :   is anxious about falling in love and has expectations of pain   /   quickly becomes overwhelmed by thoughts of their partner   /   forces partner into showing affection and emotion   /   is easily frustrated and does not enjoy sexual intimacy   /   is very possessive and jealous.

𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐏𝐄   (   𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄   )   𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄   /   𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒   /   𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂   (   𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 + 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞   )   :   is attracted to several types of people   /   meets people easily so most likely will begin with a stranger   /   feels concern and care for each partner they have   /   is neither not jealous nor obsessive   /   enjoys sex and is willing to improve it.

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐀   (   𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄   )   𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘   /   𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐌   /   𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   ( 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 + 𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐮𝐬 )   :   is certain of their preferable ‶ types ‶   /   begins a relationship with an already familiar person   /   believes a loving relationship is desirable for a happy life   /   expects reciprocation with feelings   /   believes sexual compatibility can be worked out.

tagged by :  stole it from @tempestial tagging :  @legacyheld @divinehope @hisrising @ayahimes @nibelblade + anyone else who wants to do this!

[4ugury]

@hisrising just a little british lad

[hisrising]

#hisrising : what gives light must first burn ! ind. ffxvi roleplay

[ladyjote]

jote  headcanon:  she  is  the  youngest  of  three  and  the  only  daughter  in  the  shaftsbury  family.  jote’s  mother  passed  during  childbirth  with  her  and  so  jote  and  her  brothers  were  raised  by  their  widowed  father.  to  make  things  short  (  because  i’m  lazy...  ),  her  family  kinda  sucks.  after  her  mother’s  death,  jote’s  father  grew  harsh  and  cruel.  definitely  holding  some  resentment  towards  her  in  regards  to  his  wife’s  death.  and  her  brothers  unfortunately  took  after  him.  jote  was  raised  in  a  unloving  menage  and  never  really  experienced  care  with  them  nor  those  apart  of  the  undying  (  which  hisrising  is  right  that  was  a cult!!!  )  until  she  met  joshua.  which  is  why  she  had  no  issue  with  running  off  with  him  and  was  adamant  about  keeping  him  safe  until  clive’s  ultimate  return.

[ladyjote]

a part of her is unsure that the nostrum's she's been putting together for him are effective. she was a knight after all. her skills shined on a battlefield, but not so much in the realm of apothecary. watching him progressively get worse, seeing the medicine fail to do it's job has the girl feeling more and more concerned with every passing moment. eyes shut instinctively at the sound of his cough, not wanting to be a witness to the other's showcase of discomfort.

❝  so, dion lesage. ❞  she begins while cleaning up her workspace,  knowing that in only a matter of time the two would be up on their feet again. ❝  what exactly do you want from him, your grace?  ❞ jote questions curiously. her hand reaches out to his own after ebony orbs take notice of the residue in the palm of his hand. she wants to wipe it clean, but waits for his approval before doing so.

with a vial of swirling liquid emeralds placed in front of his eyes, irises so akin to his mother's, joshua finds a familiar reluctance settling in his stomach. as if he were faced with a plate of carrots, it seemed obeying his protector's 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 were just as difficult— at least in regards to the medicine she had prepared for him. though neither of them might speak the words, they both must know that these tinctures do little stop the spread of self inflicted blight; ultima a parasite leeching him of flame.

he was dying, it was 𝚗𝚘𝚝 a foreign feeling.

" ... of course, jote. " joshua settles and takes the cylindrical flask between forefinger and thumb, popping the cork shortly after. with jote's eyes on him, he forces the 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚢 down his throat; a cough coming up his throat following. racking in his chest, carving pain into his sore ribs, a reminder of his childhood– an omen of his impending doom. he wipes the green from his lips, specks of blood tainting it's forest color.