#empyrcal

[zaunitelizard]

I'm going through who I owe, and Tumblr seems to be going funny with blogs - as though they don't exist, not loading via the app and only viewable on desktop; and I can't send messages (and asks don't seem to get through). empyrcal being one of them. I just hope the muns are okay.

#out of shimmer (ooc) #empyrcal #tumblr is being weird

[vctlan]

@empyrcal --> tseng & kunsel

#( kunsel zantos : face ) #( kunsel zantos : bonds ) #empyrcal #( empyrcal : tseng ) #makes you the subject of me struggling to remember how mmd works because they are the only models i have lying around JKDSHF #｢ ooc ｣ 𝘈𝘙𝘛

[kunoichiblossoms]

@empyrcal​ (Itachi) ♥

“We’ve talked about this, Itachi-san,” Sakura chastises lightly, her voice in that same medic tone she uses when admonishing children for doing something reckless and ending up in the emergency room. She moves closer, tilts his chin a bit so she can shine a light in Itachi’s eyes. Certainly uncomfortable, so Sakura’s frown switches to an apologetic look. 

“If you keep overusing your Sharingan to this extent there’ll be little else that I can do to help. Close,” Sakura requests, then places her hand over Itachi’s eyes, using chakra to relieve some of the tension there. 

#empyrcal #ty for liking the starter call! hope this works~ #q.

[timelight]

        Anxiously he taps his finger against his hoverboard that rested across his knees as he waited for the meeting to start. A couple of discussions between the Firelights and what remained of the council to open up the borders between Topside and the Undercity for a few extra hours were supposed to start today but he was a bit turned around trying to find the new negotiations building. Didn’t help when the enforcers got on his tail either. Only a few people milled about the lobby and no one seemed to really care to look his way except a young, tired looking man who was seated in the row of benches across from his. It took Ekko a few minutes before he was able to pin down where might have seen him, a few pictures in the newspaper and snooping at the Progress Day events was just enough to confirm his suspicions.

       “So... you’re partners with the sucker, huh? Did he ever tell you how he got conned by a twelve year old seven years back?”

@empyrcal​ // starter call

#empyrcal #empyrcal: viktor h. #v: what could have been ( act ii. ) #( oop lemme know if this works or not )

[hatredcurse]

@empyrcal // Itachi said  "by the time the dust settles, I hope you can come to understand."

“How?” The words fell from his lips without forethought.  “I’ve been trying for years and I still fail to understand.” The usual callousness in his demeanor broke to reveal the soft underbelly that only held reserve for his beloved brother. The hurt was written in his eyes and the soft slouch of his shoulder. He was no longer demanding to know, rather, pleading. “I’ve asked high and low for something that makes sense and none of them provided the answer that I need,” he verbally pulled back, stopping from embarrassing himself anymore. It wasn’t an understanding that Sasuke longed for anymore. It was an excuse; wishful thinking, a lie. Something to bring comfort to his tortured mind. Sasuke’s face twisted into his pensive expression. He sought closure in the truth and yet when the truth came, he denied it. It was a hopeless case for him now. “What is it that you want me to understand?”

#ic #closed starter #ask #empyrcal #Thank you for the ask! (: #Verse: Part II

[anarchyassembly]

to: @empyrcal​  »  V subject: halloweeny starter call

“You should dress up, you know.” It’s Saturday night, and while Birdie hasn’t been invited to any Halloween parties, she is still doing a costume test for Monday. Carefully braiding her hair into twin braids as she watches V through the mirror. Smile wide and mischievous and painted ruby red. “It would be super cute if you coordinated with Nero. Or me. And the ladies at the library would swoon.”

#empyrcal #empyrcal » v #birdie monroe » general #birdie monroe » interactions

[bellsliturgy]

@empyrcal asked: look at me. (emet and rham)

     no—NO. he didn’t want to talk about this. not anymore. he could already feel the tears threaten his eyes, his throbbing heart clawing its way up into his throat and choking him. choking out the life he once knew and replacing it with this new nightmare from which he cannot rip himself. rham’ir can feel the Primordial Light tie knots around his joints, his chest, his spine, paralyzing him in place and relinquishing from him his will. forcing him to its own.

     it's a kneejerk reaction to try and pull away from the ascian’s grasp. One he tries to implement, but cannot, so overwhelmed by the contact of gloved fingers to his jaw and chin. rham’ir is at war with himself—the desire to violently pull away and howl in anger, how dare he! how dare he do this to him! --but oh, the touch after so many years, to melt into it with the vague hopes of more and all that it implies. but fear catches him as it often did--’tis not only the Primordial Light that locks his very essence in place.

     hopeless crimson, striking in the dimness of amaurot’s gloom, look into the abyss of his would-be rapture ( his demise, the electric surge leading up to the eleventh hour ). ears cannot flatten, so cold is the Light’s hold on him. but the distress is so very clearly etched across his features. voice thick and hushed in his voice, his pleas are far more meek than he wishes for them to sound, “ please... ” o angel of death and the truth of its woe! have mercy! “ please don’t do this to me-- ”

#MUSE. RHAM'IR. IC. #empyrcal #LOOK WHAT U DID

[starsfreckled-archived]

  @empyrcal asked : FINAL FANTASY XIV ask meme ( accepting ).

3. Least favorite class/job?

monk . just never got into it & it hurts my hands & head ... which is sad bcs “punching stuff” would be such a nice thing for amaya ,,,

10. Favorite dungeon?

hard choice, but I would say the two top dungeons for me would be sohr kai ( atmosphere, design, fights ) & amaurot ( the music, lore & atmosphere )

#empyrcal #❝ ʷʰʸ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢᵏ ᵃⁿ ᶦᵈᶦᵒᵗ? ❞╱ ooc asks . #seren don't look cw

[bouqueue]

@empyrcal​  ;  frank

He lets himself in. Wife privileges ( as he's corrected Hunter before ). Shrugging not a leather, but suit jacket from his shoulders before beelining to the only place to sit. Inserting himself between the dealer and the tv to take his chosen seat on his lap. "Long day." Evidenced by the bruising on his wrist in a shape different from Hunter's own hand &&. a new cut just beneath his right eye. "Make yourself yourself." Promptly shoving his hand down the other's pants, should clarification be needed. 

whore

Tuesday is Hunter’s Sunday, his very own lazy, day of rest. The day he sits on his ass and watches Jerry Springer and Maury and Steve until the soap operas come on - and then he watches those too. The day he showers and puts on only sweatpants and does nothing. The day he eats his weight in cereal (Fruity Pebbles, of course) while high as a kite until he gets sick. It’s his day. His day of rest and relaxation and being alone.

Until, it’s not. Until, between one blink and the next, Hunter finds himself both no longer alone, and being used as a seat for a very interesting image. So interesting that he doesn’t even have it in him to be mad about the interruption of ritual - or the bruises on Frank’s skin that were not caused by him (a touch of possession that he was, admittedly, not even trying to puzzle out.) The only thing he can feel is - well - an appropriate level of confusion.

And then there’s a hand down his pants, and words being registered too many beats too late, and Hunter only looks more confused.

“But - I was gunna find out if he’s the father -” Breath coming in sharp, despite his obvious confusion. That wildfire already burning in baby blues as he smiles something dimpled and cute. “C’mon, wifey, at least let me finish the show. Or - get on your knees so I can see -”

#empyrcal ; frank #♡ the dirtbag ; general #♡ the dirtbag ; inbox #:)

[ofpancm]

from haymitch. / closed starter for effie. @empyrcals

"well don't you look lovely, i enjoy this whole-" he motions in her general direction, not picking out anything in particular, "-colour, situation." in all the time he'd spent with effie over the years he'd argue that he'd gained an eye for... whatever she had an eye for, or at least he understood it more than he had back in the early days. "how are you feeling? about the scores." he'd soon be venturing to chew out the tributes, assuming something akin to the worst if he knew anything about their nature. beneath the shiny new suit, the firm grip on his glass, he can't hide the nerves he's feeling as things progress. giving up mentoring was supposed to be his opportunity to relax, to let go of the reigns and focus on what really mattered. but now he was at risk of losing what he wanted so desperately to protect.

#( * haymitch. / if i tell you a secret will you keep it? / interactions. ) #( * effie. ) #empyrcals #( * event. / 002. )

[vctlan]

Food HC - Kyrie. What is the first meal Kyrie remembers eating? Who made it? How did it affect her views on food from then on out (pickiness, preferences, value)?

Food HC - Kunsel. What's the worst thing Kunsel has ever eaten on assignment?

ᴋʏʀɪᴇ ᴅɪ ꜰᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴀ

The earliest memory of food Kyrie has is of eating risotto at her grandmother's home, late in the evening -- she can't quite recall the day surrounding it, mostly that it was filled with the same dotting yet not morose feeling that she associated with her grandparents, who were tasked with raising them after the untimely death of her and Credo's parents until they too would pass. She has the feeling it was the day of, if not the following, her parent’s funeral, but isn’t entirely sure.

Regarding the meal, the mushrooms were freshly picked, and the rice had been cooked down to a near porridge, her grandmother trying to accommodate to a girl that had once been terribly picky as a toddler. Still, Kyrie did not eat, meekly sitting at the dinner table with her head low, scrunching and pulling at the table cloth. Trying to talk her into it did nothing, only getting meek head shakes in return, and her grandmother didn't push it further, only letting her know that it would get cold soon.

And then Credo, who'd quietly eaten without a fuss in hopes of incentivizing his sister to do the same, scooted his chair closer to hers, and grabbed her spoon for her, and brought it up to her face. She still didn’t feel like eating, but not wanting to be a bother, she allowed herself to be spoon-fed -- only to find that she was hungrier than she’d even realized.

At the time, the flavors were a little too heavy for her to distinguish, but she appreciated the warm complexity of it, and the way her grandmother sighed in relief didn’t go unnoticed -- it drew her out of her thoughts, and into the moment, the very first time she considered food something more than just fuel for the day. It could have sentiment, it could have depth, it could be healing... or at least, having a full belly distracted her from the dark ache that had settled by her heart.

ᴋᴜɴꜱᴇʟ ᴢᴀɴᴛᴏꜱ

Not counting an outlier situation where in literal poison had gotten into their food supply in a “freak accident” that people called him paranoid over for declaring it an “undocumented experiment by the science department” there’s really one assignment that comes to mind if we’re looking for the actual worst.

Sure, he’s eaten his fair share of dubious items over the months and years in the program, but it’s a pretty well known fact that SOLDIER’s are extreme omnivores, their stomach acid comparable to battery acid... if not stronger. Being told that you can and should eat bones now is easy, reminding yourself that you can and go against years of learned habit is hard. Food-borne illness is simply not a thing once you reach SOLDIER level enhancements.

So picture this: you’re Kunsel, there’s a month left to your solo assignment, and you only have food left for... one week, and all HQ tells you is you’ll be taken to care facilities once you come back. Basically, telling you to suck it up and that you wouldn’t die, even if it felt like you were starving. Reassuring for sure, but absolutely useless in helping the situation.

Still, Kunsel is nothing but practical, and unlike SOME PEOPLE he’s capable of sitting still and not burning calories for the hell of it. He just had to ration it right and --

... The moment he opened the last box of provisions, he was met with the sight of the supposedly vacuum sealed meal packs inflated. Every single one of them? Has slowly been going off over the last two months he’d been on assignment in the remote parts of fuck-all nowhere. And that was supposed to be his food for the month.

He tried avoiding them for as long as he could, but eventually the hunger won. It was just him, alone, stuck with a meal plan consisting of cold and rancid food, doing his work and then lying about in misery that was more mind than body... Not recomended, he swears he can still smell it sometimes.

#thank you for the ask bestie 🥺 #i see the bias for kyrie and against kunsel and i respect it dskfhsd #( ask reply ) #( kunsel zantos : meta ) #empyrcal #｢ headcanon ｣ 𝘒𝘠𝘙𝘐𝘌 𝘋𝘐 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘜𝘕𝘈

[kunoichiblossoms]

@empyrcal​​ (Itachi) sent:  “The wound sharp words leave can often be far more lethal than any blade. They linger, fester. They’re never forgotten, even long after a flesh wound has healed.”

“Perhaps,” Sakura responded lightly. “Depending on the intent behind that flesh wound, and who inflicted it. When your scars are reminders of someone deliberately hurting you or attempting to kill you, you’ll forever have a reminder of it. You forget the physical pain, but not the look in their eyes or how it SHATTERED your whole world that someone you care for would try to hurt you.”

At the end of the day, Sakura supposed she agreed. After all, it was the intention that hurt. Sakura looked pointedly at Itachi, considering both her words and his own. The medic in her would disagree that the line was that distinct, and her shoulders lifted in a shrug.

“Some physical wounds have lasting effect that will incapacitate you forever. That, too, does damage to the psyche that brings along a deep hurt that no painkiller can handle,” Sakura adds, for the sake of discussion, then heaves a sigh. 

“Shinobi are wounded in many different ways, Itachi-san. I’m afraid I can only be of use when it comes to some of those.” Even still, she tried. Sakura would try to comfort those close to her, place a temporary bandaid on those wounds that she could not heal. And even then, how was she supposed to heal others’ heartache when her own was hurting? 

#empyrcal #answer. #ty for sending this~

[timelight]

@empyrcal​ asked: ❛ some risks are worth taking. ❜ (viktor)

“Last risk I took I got held at gunpoint by the former sheriff and then almost blown up by my childhood friend.”

“But Heimerdinger vouches for you and... and given you’re a Zaunite yourself I think I can try this again.” He holds up his hand to stop either Viktor, Jayce or Heimerdinger from speaking. “Only if you bring the council to meet with us on neutral ground. Topside needs to really see how we’re doin’ down here and maybe we can broker a better idea on how we can figure this mess out.” 

Not to mention with their ivory tower blown to dust... they have no real reason to object.

meme // accepting!

#empyrcal #empyrcal: viktor h. #( answered. ) #( ask. ) #v: what could have been ( act ii. )

[anarchyassembly-moved]

from: @empyrcal​  ;  FRANK subject: halloween themed sentence prompts  /  accepting

“Are you sure you’re okay? We can leave if you want.”

She’s okay. (She’s not okay.) She’s fine. (She’s not fine.) She can do this, it’s just people in costumes. (She can’t do this. There are monsters the world, real ones, and she sees their faces every time she closes her eyes.) There’s a scream lodged in her throat, and a panic attack building in her chest, tears welling in her eyes and -

Then there’s Frank. Calm and cool Frank. Frank who murders people. Frank who holds her close and soothes all her fears away. Frank, Frank, Frank... The first person she’d ever loved unconditionally that wasn’t flesh and blood.

“I - I’m fine.” She’s made of sugar glass and she’s breaking. Shattering into harmless little pieces to be eaten by things deemed lesser. Creatures that would never know how she had been whole. How loving, how friendly, how damn near the perfect daughter... “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Frank doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t need him to be. Birdie just needs him to be himself, so she can be herself. Tucked carefully under his arm and against his side. The safest place she could be in the world, with a man that would sooner burn it all to the ground than let her fall -

Or get jump scared. The weight of him pushing between her and the next actor enough to calm her back down to base line. The simple action enough reassurance to her that yes, she was okay. She was fine. She could do this. 

As long as he stayed with her, Birdie was strong as steel.

#empyrcal » frank #birdie monroe » general #birdie monroe » inbox #uwu

[sparrowheartd]

@empyrcal​  /  v

❛ There’s no without. I am not gone. ❜

meme  /  always accepting

There is always a without, Birdie had learned that at a young age. A lesson learned when she was still young enough to have childish dreams of grand things, when another heart had beat in sync with her own lived, before the accident that had ripped her life, her very existence, in half.

It had not been an easy lesson then, and was even less so now.

He breathes, he lives, but only for the moment. His company voluntary on his part, even if her own clings to him and holds him there. Solid and there and tattooed and serious. Pretty, with a voice that was low and hypnotic, soothing to the gaping wound she still felt in her heart, the empty cold where once a sister, a twin, and existed.

He existed. There and then. But would he always? Birdie was not so certain. 

All things in life were temporary, even siblings - blood or adopted.

“You can’t say that.” Bubbling persona discarded, pain worn openly. Broken heart not on her sleeve, but openly none-the-less. Like she’d cut herself open right there to show him the fragile pieces of what remained of Sylvia Monroe, the twin without a twin. “People - go. Life is temporary. Not even my sister -” 

A broken breath. A sob that was not a sob.

“Don’t say things you can’t mean forever. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

#empyrcal / v #♡ * º • ━ with love [ inbox ]

[usuragan]

@empyrcal​ said: “ this masterpiece is only mine . entirely guilty by design . ”

Cryptic words && phrases that would have made sense to anyone except the child who saw the world with rose coloured frames. Sasuke had not understood the growing distance between the brothers ; having started from the suspicion of Shisui's sudden death && his brother's absence from the clan meeting. It would have been foolish to believe that anything hadn't changed ; the air had grown serious within the home, leading to what Sasuke could only believe to be the beginning of the end. 

A child who carried the burdens of his elders ; a punishment unfitting for the innocent who simply wanted his family's approval. Cursed, just as the men who shared the name before him.

❝ What a god damned masterpiece indeed, ❞ Fire spat off his tongue, red hues bearing hatred within his elder. Murderous intent clear but knew better than to charge forward without thinking ; past experiences had proved such pathetic attempts fruitless && only resulted in more pain than what was worth.

❝ You orchestrated it all && you have no remorse. Where's your guilt?! Do you feel nothing about what you’ve done?! ❞

#✧SILENCE BE HIS NAME ;; HIS WORD IS GOSPEL && IN CHARACTER. #✧THIS PATH HE WALKS ;; REVENGE WASN’T MEANT TO BE EASY. && MAIN. #✧ ONCE UPON A TIME YOU WERE AN OBSTACLE TO OVERCOME ;; NOW YOU’RE JUST IN MY WAY. && BOND. ITACHI ( EMPYRCAL ). #((i haven't written angry sasuke in a hot minute :'))