“tolerance and patience is something
one can acquire if effort is made.”
it’s a suggestion that she assumes that won’t go through, but nature has
a fine tuning of persistence in her blood. born with the maternal instincts
in full bloom; it’s easy to become tender to a motherless child.
his smile had always had been tainted with bitterness, his eyes an abyss
that has an end that she cannot see. how easy is for her to stare long
enough to lose track of time, an age passing by with a blink of an eye.
void has never been an easy companion from the start.
❬ what eons of isolation and silence can do, is a terrifying thought. ❭
she pushes a tray of porcelain cups towards him, fingers curled around a
small pot, ready to serve.
”without these clouds there will be no
shades to protect the children from the heat.
i’m sure there are moments where you
appreciate them, too.
…to a certain extent.”
nature shoots void a scornful smile, pouring herself a cup of jasmine.
❝ — Is it too much to ask
for some weather from the Bahamas? ❞
skull cradled on ruptured knuckle, mountainous bone gentles itself between
the give of softened, mortal skin. they still think it odd how flesh peels
across skeletal form — a sort of pitiable lack of tenacity sown into the fabric
of a human vessel. they don’t enjoy taking form like this - makes them feel
all gross & c o r r u p t a b l e & human inside. not ideal.
but they can’t deny the shred of fondness choked between their fingers at her
pathetic fallacy — a flash of light jagged in a thunder storm - clouds turned
bitter & sour — & they simply stranded, waiting, patiently for her
& all things to [ d i s s i p a t e ] & leave them.
so far, she’s been surprisingly stubborn
they admire that. they respect that.
it makes them sick.
but it earns her an unhinged smile & the jitter of settling limbs all the same as
they take the tea, though still they refrain from drinking. her scorn only making
them preen against pressed p o r c e l a i n .
❝ So is this what you o c c u p y yourself with now?
Making c l o u d s ? Must be quite the slow era. ❞
*rides your dick but only as a friend*
"We obsess. It’s our nature. We turn on a track, around and around; we march in step; we act out the same tales, over and over, the same sets of motions, while time piles up like yarn under a wheel."
- personification of regret. not as awful as he could be, surprisingly.
- multi-fandom, multi-ship, so on.
- will write any style from one-liners to novellas.
- approximately three years of experience on tumblr.
- skype available for mutuals upon request.
paradoxofconstellations asked ;
"-- I've got peppermint, and lemon."
he’s not in the mood to accept visitors — & how much more obvious
can that message be than in the looming, swirling, corporeal pool
of primordial void that shadows the circumference of his temporary
home? a darkness so deep, it tears your limbs from sight & leaves
you straddled in an empty abyss? he thinks it’s fitting, to make his
statement that way - so that those who should come looking for him
should feel the fear it instills - that L O N E S O M E , frightening
feeling to be caught in a state of unknowing still.
but while the
dark rarely disobeys him, long before he had given the balancing
sister a ’ free pass ’
so to speak through his shadow - an offer, even
now, he hesitates to regret - & so the mass of his shield separates
for her, instead of swallowing her into its depths, parting enough so
that she might see the path to the cabin sheltered in the din.
❝ You spoil me. ❞
arrogant characters refusing to admit they care about people
arrogant characters not realizing they care about people
arrogant characters realizing they care about someone after something terrible happens to them
"i’m not bitter" i say, bitterly, with a bitter expression