hi aria here to tell u im alive but mainly on my nobu that i made like 3 hrs ago... pls follow me again as always ill give u all my gremlin love

we are constantly on battlefield,  ——

                                    FIGHTING FOR OUR LIFE                                     AND ANYTHING THAT MATTERS TO US.                                     FIGHTING FOR WHAT WE BELIEVE                                     IS WORTH FIGHTING FOR.

                                           ind. & selective oda nobunaga / demon archer                                              from Fate Grand/Order & Fate/KOHA-ACE                                                              as summoned by aria

half assed super late hiatus notice

i wish i had motivation to be on this blog rn i got like a flow of 50+ new followers aND IM SORRY BUT SCHOOL SUCKS AND I NEED TIME THAT I DONT GHAVE AAAASDSADASD

@ulmash

TRUTHS:

i. jupiter’s moons hide within her eyes. half ice, like europa, and half explosive fire, like io. all of it a glorious amalgamate of a terrible beauty, one that can and will consume you with the power of a black hole.

ii. one word from her lips can make the earth halt in its rotation. mountains crumble to dust, the seas turn to roaring flame, and the skies collapse beneath the weight of their own divinity.

iii. a single brush of her fingertips can bring an empire to its knees, trembling. her touch can rip apart the fabric of time, make supernovae look like hiccups in the midst of the universe. but they can touch you; softly. gently. perfectly.

iv. loving her tastes like eternal damnation.

v. you don’t care.

ANGER MUST BE CONQUERED BY FORGIVENESS; and the wicked must be conquered by honesty; the miser must be conquered by liberality, and falsehood must be conquered by truth.

Ind. & Selective Arjuna from Fate/Grand Order As written by Shinya ( art cred. )

Describe your muse on anon and my muse will say if they would date them or not.

Bonus: Include the basic details: gender, age, height, likes, dislikes, hair/eye color, race, and anything else my character should know.

don’t burn me because i have a heart of fiery gold. i am ethereal to the skin, and i am breathing constellations, so you can not destroy stars. you can not destroy me.

i am a goddess in disguise / a.a.m.l (via constllate)

                      À VAILLANT COEUR RIEN D’IMPOSSIBLE.

 Grief is more like a storm. Clouds that hug the horizon, caress the sky with fingers that leave bruises the colour of the skin under your eyes when you haven’t slept for a week. Lightning bolts that illuminate the shapes in the dark for just long enough that you get to see remnants of a normal life, picnic blankets not abandoned to rain, beaches covered with sand and not hail, but the light never lasts. and thunder. thunder that drowns out the sound of laughter. Thunder that only knows how to emphasise the gaps of quiet in between each earth shaking sigh. They say that grief is a well, it collects in your chest and fills and spills over as the walls wage war with the water.                                                                I can see it. I can.                                      But my grief is more like a storm where lightning                                likes to strike the same place a thousand times each day.

                                                                IND.   &    PRIV.                                                         RULER  /  JEANNE D’ARC                                                              FROM FATE SERIES                                                        —     blessed by aria.   —

                                           (            art cred.     ⚜     martyre.          )

                        i am not a CHILD now –          i can take care of MYSELF.                         i mustn’t let them DOWN now –        mustn’t let them see me CRY.                                        i’m fine…              I’M FINE……

SEMIRAMIS.

″ Nay, not at these altars. ″ Her gods are old, primals of the gods stood today, that descended from them —— Now spread an outburst of different prayers, vibrancy in their tales, but oft mirrored her own more than they’d like to admit. ″ A fine day indeed, though not fine enough that you must pray it to be better? ″ Euphonious, distracting, and honey - bidden was her godly laughter as it echoes through her words, sweetness rolling from beneath her tongue. How the sea sings through this voice! ″ Nary a week in the modern age and you’ve only explored the inside of this chapel. I say enough, you shall finish with your prayer and accompany me to this Wine Festival. ″

  “  I see.   ”  She understood the age of the assassin & what piety stood above their heads. She respected them as her mother taught her to respect each god like they were her own. In this modern age where many religions were spread across the surface and many held no acknowledgement for them. It was different, very different, but the saint still knew why over the ages where men forsaken gods & attempt to prove he or they did not exist. He had once whispered it to her gave her an example using what was once her own life;                          (  you were a rose in the hands of those who had no intention of keeping you. )                  (  to keep you away from soil & water; everything you needed — TO LIVE — they wanted )                                (  to keep you on display until your inevitable death seeks to keep you.  )                          ——————   DO YOU UNDERSTAND NOW, JEANNE?     “  Not exactly, I pray every single day--- there is no harm in it, I pray for the wellbeing of every soul, I care not for how the days treat me if the ones I pray for are well.  ”  The queen’s laugh tickles her ears as the saint gives her baffled stare, lips slightly pouting & skyfallen hues blink behind flesh curtains. Her laugh carries on the wind after the other’s; sweet & dappled with milk & sugars.    “  It’s beauty holds my heart with ease, apologies for my lack of social outgoings. I wasn’t aware that you kept eye of how I spent my days... Worry nought, Semiramis, you caught me as I was leaving. I will to accompany you to this, Wine Festival as you’d wish. I was never one for drinking but wine is the gift of gods  &  the blood of Christ. It’d be disrespectful to deny an offer both to you & the celestials.  ”

OZYMANDIAS.

“SUCH INNOCENCE for you to take this blessing as affection — then again, what else may mortals think if a god should even whisper to them.” He studies her, his hand hovering around her face, her neck, her shoulders — not to touch, never, but to observe. Her words bring forth another amused smile. “There are thousands who swore no allegiance, who swore only for my death, but must I abhor them all? If you wish to loathe me, for I am as great Horus and Ra and bow to none but mine own, bring those plagues as your tidings. I shall gladly take these.” Drawing away, he clasps his hands together. He bursts again with warmth, esteem never eclipsed. “Hatred is tiresome, little saint. Yet it spawns many a fascinating curses! These, better than plagues. I’ve a book of them — we shall read it some time.”

   Warmth from his hands teases her skin, her starlit optics continue to observe him as he did the same to her.  “   You have my pardons, but do tell what it really is--- also, I see not how this ties into my innocence. I doubt you hold interest over a saint such as myself.   ”  Lips sung every last word with gentle & strong tone, holding on to the meaning of his words wondering as to what his motives could possibly be.      “   Loathe? I hold no such thing nor do I plan to, it is as tiresome as you say, Ramesses. It is an emotion that drains one’s soul, it’s one of the most troublesome of emotions to get rid of.   ”  His physical warmth was pulled away from her, she stares at his hands as they rest against each other. She smiles at his sudden outburst, pushing her weight onto one side of her body whilst digits curve around her waist & cup her own jawline.  “   I’d be honored to take up that invitation. The days have been growing dull, O’King  &  by the looks of it I see it grows on you as well; also that book you speak of sounds interesting.  ” 

Sainte Croix Cathedral, Orléans - France

‘ i hope you don’t mind my getting involved. ’

                prayer.     • ⚜ •     not accepting.

   Her laugh shakes the sky, this was almost fun to her. Twirling both flag & blade it was like a dance, usually her training sessions weren’t always this great. But the male’s husky growl against the edges of both blades filled her soul with thrill, many wished not to clash with her unless it was with the intent to spill her blood. A relief if you’d asked her.    “  Not at all, I enjoy sparring against a knight of your skill. I hope you don’t go easy on me.  ” The saint grins with excitement overflowing to stain porcelain cheeks with the brightest of corals. She swings the banner to push off the knight’s sword, she lungs back with her smile standing strong & twisting the pole between pallid digits resting it against her shoulderblades.                                          “  Go WILD, Percival. I’ll make sure I do the same.  ”

' this is not a good place to be in. '

                prayer.     • ⚜ •     not accepting.

   Bitterness roars like a hurricane in the birdcage that seals her heart & lungs, She hung her feet off the highest cliff that Tokyo could offer to her, look at the flickers of light that hung over the city like fake stars. The maiden enjoyed the sight, It was the sign of life.   “  Hm, I do not fear heights, Yuna. If I fall, then I’ll return to the grail. Wait for my time to assist the gods once again. My whole life, spirit, & soul… It was never in a good place. But you are correct I should not treat my vessel like this, she deserves better— she reminds me of my younger self whilst she has beautiful violets & I have forget-me-nots, clear signs that she will live a sweet, innocent & beautiful long life.  ”  The saint brushes the dapples of coral spreading across her flesh, a smile holds up strong against rosé petaled lips. Her body falls against the floor now staring up at the starless sky, hidden behind midnight clouds.    “  Forget-me-nots, they live for a short time even if taken care of– they only live two years. While violets can live almost forever, especially the African violets… ” 

                   “  I pray that every single day Laeticia will live an amazing life as a thanks…                                     for allowing me to live again for just a short period of time.   ”

❛ but I mean, if YOU want to take me home, I can always corrupt your pretty little soul along the way. ❜

 “  I’m… I’m sorry? What exactly are you implying? I wish to care for you & help you…  ”   Skylit optics bore into gleaming golds of the woman who bared the very same features she did down to every curve of her body,  every pore, every nerve that her body could hold. Her hands cupped the avenger’s jawline, it’s the same— Her lips pull into a feeble smile pulling herself in to kiss the woman’s forehead then following up with a tight hug. The ruler knew that all this would aggravate her counterpart but she doesn’t care. Shove a sword through her lungs and she won’t let go until every ounce of lifeblood leaves it’s fleshy prison. Rain is brought upon her heart, it hurts to see herself like this, it is possible for her to abandon all hope— she knows this all too well; her heart has wavered once too many times before doubting god & celestials alike. Lightning strikes her emotions, her voice is no longer strong  &  steady  or  gentle  &  fearless, it’s  WEAK.      “   My soul cannot be corrupted so easily but you already know that don’t you? If corrupting me helps you see your all the wrong in your actions— then do it,  thou art I  &  I am thou, with that I trust you to find all the good in your heart. Even if it’s pointless & your— no… OUR stubbornness won’t let you, I want you to have my trust.  ”  

‘ I fell asleep? ’

                    prayer.     • ⚜ •     not accepting.

  Trills & staccatos of a untitled melody spill off her lips, lulling the youth that rested on her petite shoulders. The boy shifted a bit then murmuring a question to her. Azure hues peek at the boy, not moving an inch.    “   Ah, yes… you did. You seemed tired, you passed out only two minutes after you had sat down.   ”  Softest of whispers she could manage and unoccupied hand gently brushes his wild tresses. The saint slowly gets up from her seat, staring at the digital newsboard in a bright red  ‘ LAST STOP ‘ --- a chuckle echoes off her tongue.  “   Shall we get going, Sawada? This is the last train you know...  ”  Maybe she should’ve waked him up sooner...