神.
shrine
太.
origin
音.
of import
道.
paths
手.
theme
My memories
and dreams
are almost
identical;
I compare
them to stars,
because even
after they die
and collapse
into small pieces,
I still see them in a
lustful November sky
that’s reserved for
daydreamers
and I.
—November Sky - Julian Budani (via youshouldacceptchaos)
posted on ;; Apr 19— · 222 notes
filed under→ ·musings

Title: Bluebird Story (feat. Jumelles)
Artist: DJ Okawari
Played: 1593 times

Bluebird Story (feat. Jumelles) - DJ Okawari

posted on ;; Apr 19— · 188 notes
filed under→ ·music ·paint the gardens again

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        outofpraise; when Amaterasu is a silly puppy most of the time but is also a high goddess tho. In myth she was a really strong and key deity amongst her fellow gods. But at the same time she could be stubborn and one to hold a grudge. in the game too you get this feeling, when Amaterasu is all silly and a total dork, then at her previous incarnation who is all potent and wise.  Amaterasu is reallyyyy ancient, she’s had many experiences and existences as a whole. But when she has her true goddess mode on, that is really, really fun to write.  

            this is why ammy-mun shouldn’t write at 1am.

sifnir:

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— You have wandered far.
Pupils dilated at the gentle utterance, recognising a voice ancient, ethereal, motherly.
Yet it was not surprise expressed upon hearing those words. Nay; the Fae merely lowers his gaze momentarily, a sign of respect, of recognition. He did not know the she-wolf, but acknowledged her as his elder.

Aye— he had wandered far indeed. Feathered form had carried him across continents; across oceans and deserts and cities— their stench burning in his nostrils. A most unpleasant recollection. And then he had stranded here, enticed by evergreen foliage; their low, whist susurrus had been a promise of something ethereal, something foreign to this world, something that may end his journey and give him peace, at last.
                    It had been you, then, who the trees had been speaking of.
Are you too a deity?

An inquiry that dimmed the spark in his eyes, brief as it may be. Many of the Good Folk were seen as something akin to deities, although never quite similar. He, while bound by blood with the Tuatha Dé Danann, only shared half their powers and weaknesses, half of their immortal being. And while Fintan was accepted as one of them, the answer was most definitely a no.

Queer it was, that one like the she-wolf in all her brilliance and splendour— for was she not more lovely than any animal his eyes had ever seen— should ask him this. Why?
                  Was it mockery? A test, to see his true colours? Or simply ignorance, unlikely as it might be?
                         But no; the unlikeliness of it was common, expectant. Deities were not as omniscient as mortals thought — how laughable, that they now thought themselves the creators of those they alienated themselves from.
                There were many, each different in nature, each worshipped by different creatures. The Fae did not recognise her either, however knowledgeable he was about his homeland, and the creatures and spirits inhabited by that land. Ignorance may be the most likely reason.

To name those ethereal, arcane, ancient—
         insufficient, are single words to grasp their essence;”


And did he not use them too— inaccurate as they might be.
    A reminder came to him; that he was not here to play games, least of all with those who he deemed to greet with respect. 
    So he lowered chin with slight bend of knees; a greeting as well as plea for her to pardon his critique.

     ”— Many names, 
                  for those who are said to have ascended from heavens.
      And what of those who share in blood— celestial and mundane, 
                                     earth, water and air;
             feathered hands; mixed blood when cut a vein—” 
He glided closer, pale digits lifted to her while knees sought earth. Lingering, hesitating to seek white fur. 
          ” How many halves make one;
                  and into which word is their essence spun?”

Was there truly something, that marked his being? Half and half, his ancestors donned in plumage. Perhaps a gracious, merciful deity could name his being for him; as to claim he fully belonged to the Fair Folk would, in theory, be a lie.
                   


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        many names?
       wingless and winged; memory and mirage. 

     Ignorant she is, whilst pondering evermore to her maiden intrigue unto others, bound by their landscapes or no. Echoes vibrating solemn vows ‘pon rhyming motions sweeping cross open canvases, painted dashes of multi-coloured tresses. Illuminated miracles seeping unannounced prayers that settle aside ears coated in tuft, their wishes collated throughout their own existences. Obsidian gazes lean their way unto such a graceful creature, one reposed in defined elegance that the solar deity could nary place her paw upon. An unearthly grace it was— but comforting all the more. Mayhaps a name needn’t be sought nor needed.

    One too must excuse dainty fixtures, thoughts and mere reveries that capture this wayfaring lupa. Her kin sheltered and reserved, almost silence amongst their fellow pantheon lines to enlightenment. Alas their wavelength differed so, painfully even than that of her kin. Webbed feathers don a particular question, whilst remaining silent. Ah, the children of the earth knew too greater deeds to their mishaps, their seemingly immortal mistakes that sew them so. Born amongst golden waters and thrust into duty, it was by her maker’s own will or elder knowledge. A white light majesty through and through— but careless all the more.

      given a name, but many insisted on others. 

       Such a presence I have naught felt, nor in all my incarnations. Forgive my intrigue— but what is your name?"

    to throw away person, to set aside title.
     perhaps the sun’s thoughts linger more.

    O’ mother Amaterasu, one elder amongst her beloved infants whom slumber. Words come forth from musings to meet cryptic poetry that ignites, her pristine maw to meet fingers laced unto her pelt. 

     Her kind be potent amongst rivers, mountains and starlight— alas some holding disturbing arrogance within their core. An omnipotence raw and sought, sour yet sweet through mortal coils that ascend to their palms in aching glance. The trees spoke to many this hour, their own words carried oft winds barren, winds misplaced through encounters bewildered. The kami farther east rest aside all form, balance and etching current to all of takamagahara and earth. Some ebbed assuringly to root, whilst others linger across azuline scape.  

      Puzzling it is, to define but one existence, for all seem to connect. Where one ends, does another world begin. Where the air itself be a god, but to others a passing moment.

     An answer parted and split to a remaining puzzle asked, queried and wondered. Maternal is the she-wolf’s tone as it be apart of her identity and nature, glistening aside a summer’s day. She knew naught of ties fruitless, nor had she explored regions far west in basking through their own glories. How it almost delighted the sun, her grace, in this unknown wisdom that has yet to be plucked. 

posted on ;; Apr 19— · 6 notes
The way I do drafts:
its either: oh mY GOD I'M WRITING SO MUCH OH HOLY HELL I'M ON FIRE ALL DRAFTS DONE WOHOO!
or: *drafts sit there for weeks while I cry because i have no inspiration*
theres no between
posted on ;; Apr 18— · 2,698 notes

rapusodosu:

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"—Hoh? How long has it been, I wonder?"

          Too long.

    Too long had it been since he beheld the wondrous coasts of Harami’s glory, travelling in tow with a divinity that had captured his interest long ago, treating him to the watercolour spectacles of Nippon’s greatest regions. They had whistled through barren tombs, sung quietly o’er healing hillocks where leagues of flora were painted far into the horizon. The glowing scents, the warming hands of crescent beams; whom could forget those floral promenades that re-wrote what he loved and introduced him to a fresher world? The airs here were easier to breathe, unlike the soot-filled streams of Gaia; wailing and moaning through forests of rusted iron. 

    "Do you wish to treat me with another wonder, Lady Amaterasu?" He radiates a rare kindness, spared for she, placing her alongside the auric semblance of his true Goddess. The sun is benevolent here, aye— for she graces him with her presence. The very embodiment of the solar orb in the image of a fair maiden; bathing in the pastel colours of beige and purest white, and like a morning calm she comes along as an answered prayer. And he only looks, glancing over with aquamarine bright, almost matching the shimmering swells of Harami’s banks and spoiling her with another wave of respect.

      She needn’t know his inhumanity.

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     One or two I pray.

     or even three; the petals are harder to count.

     Spirited gestures wielded a more amused note amongst jubilant gazes, where rounded welcoming met fellow artist. Digits laced under orient garb donned by her own making, thumbs brushing against another to shift in delight. Long it had been, or so it felt like. Seasons came then they passed, as all should and must pertain through these natural ways. Dawns set apart from collating memoirs drifting amongst carmine to alabaster, smiles drawn against pallid portrait of the good goddess. Hours unto days passed their own accord, reading throughout wilder beginnings and chapters of their own making.  

    surely three would be enough. 

     A smile does neither cease nor falter, but only radiate silent acknowledgement. Once more to peculiar beings meet, once again do the cherry trees flicker heir blossoms in bestowing such pleasantries. Reveries insight her naught this time, but mere awakening as to a reunion long sought and needed, she had pondered. Sunlight that would bathe the earth in eternal prose, guiding frozen palms through interlaced fingers to place but a kiss upon the good soil. One of honorific features was the bard, that hadn’t altered in their parted time and the ivory maid needn’t complain(change had always been a tricky one).

    she sings high. 

     ”To enjoy this scene with another is ever more plentiful than alone.

posted on ;; Apr 18— · 4 notes
posted on ;; Apr 18— · 171 notes
filed under→ ·nihon no kami;

    herpremiumheart; doors pardoned and wide; it only makes sense to enter;

           Arf!"  

         rather abrupt, but jubilant all the same. 

    Steps lingering cross stone in ushering jade foliage to brush upwards, meeting alabaster appendages in but a glance. Trespassing had been the very least of this lupine’s fleeting exploration— but she had hoped strangers would pardon her. Keen instincts head forth as compass to destination, needn’t one seek for one memento or location to cease. Abundant in drifting syllables; kindle awareness flickers as petiole scatter. A maid? garbed in peculiar fabrics, radiated silent intrigue ‘pon canine’s nostril. 

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posted on ;; Apr 18— · 1 note

    exnatura; up the mountain and up again; 

       Curiosity’s finest and furriest victims wandering sole moments, opportune journeys to gaze unto worlds unknown to her nostrils. Compelling wafts of noted floret soon smother twin nostrils to their own abode, their haven struck throughout chaos and calm. The she-wolf would neither complain nor folly, only to pad forward in meeting rose donned fabrics to silence her intrigue. With her comes about the breath of summer, a aria set for the dawns awakening peeking sights of pup-like inquisition.

          a patch of greenery amongst deafening poetry.

       Here came but a singular yap from ivory jaws.. 

          ” Arf! “ 

posted on ;; Apr 18— · 1 note

askbadasskol:

If you have been waiting days for a reply from me…

or weeks

or months

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posted on ;; Apr 17— · 3,637 notes