death’s little canary. released into the world.
cage | ask | rules | about
independent, selective oc. written by xion.
Stranger Things
todays bird
One Nice Bug Per Day

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
dirt enthusiast
No title available
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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Andulka
Cosimo Galluzzi
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

roma★

tannertan36
cherry valley forever
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

Origami Around

izzy's playlists!

★
NASA
YOU ARE THE REASON

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@chxsovi
death’s little canary. released into the world.
cage | ask | rules | about
independent, selective oc. written by xion.
She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.
Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, Good Omens (via themanatthecenter)
—- Ɏøᵾ don’t what I’m ¢ α ρ α в ℓ є of
[[ But neither do I ]]
I
don’t
need a weapon
{I am a weapon.}
αdσrαblε & ∂єα∂ℓу ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ ¯¯¯¯¯¯
behind this ( soft exterior ) ————— lies a WARRIOR.
✗; though sinister claws—hands that have the ability to TWIST and CRUSH— are rendered v o i d on synthetic flesh, steel veins, there is a point that rings true in this instance of uncertainty and apprehension, one that whirls within eyes so cold and calculating that they’d turn anyone { lesser } into a pitiful pile of trembling flesh.
a cornered predator is a DANGEROUS one. ’ Is the moon not out? ’ a hand waves towards the starless sky, the bleached light of the orb bathing the both of them in sterile illumination.
all stars begin within the sea of perpetual night ( don't fear the darkness, it is the beginning of creation ), they are illuminative hopes, guides, granted wishes — & she is the first star of the night ( go on, make your wish ).
‶ —- the moon makes it … good evening? ″
Do not hurt them
I will rip you apart.
fatali-morte:
ι
αм α
ᴘ ʀ ᴇ ᴅ ᴀ ᴛ ᴏ ʀ .
ι
αм ησт
ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ʀ ғ ʀ ɪ ᴇ ɴ ᴅ .
She was fire, she was darkness, she was dust and blood and shadow.
Sarah J. Maas, The Assassin’s Blade (via quoted-books)
✗; —-& he realizes this a little too late. all that can be heard from within a seemingly organic rib cage is a dull, lifeless hum—hollow and unsettling to his ears. It is the sound of machinery and wiring and gears—there is nothing he can seize.
impossibly frigid blue gaze meets an electric one, ice clashes with lightning. this is a puzzle that sets him on edge, disturbingly so, and slowly, a cowled head turns towards the puddle nearby, water trembling with anticipation. but he is smarter than to outright attack. ’ Good evening, ’ a rumbling tone rises forth from between the cracks of the mask, not hostile… but not hospitable, either.
stay thy hand, attack not if thou fears thy fragile life — relentless lapis lazuli wildfire rages beneath deceptively delicate pallid flesh, a lethal storm; but did thou know — she is a child who knows naught but warfare. war child, war [ q u e e n ] ; inexorable desolation feared, destruction wielded at the cost of lonely isolation — but can one miss what one has never known?
‶ ——- good ... evening? ″
If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell.
Virgil’s Aeneid, book VII.312 (via wolf-teeth)
✗; Heartbeats. Several, laboring away within d i s g u s t i n g l y frail bodies, alert him to the fact that he is not alone. How easily they can be put to a stop, seized in invisible, destructive claws and CRUSHED. But the bloodbender is hospitable—so long as they keep their distance. ❝ I know you’re there. ❞
but she is without a drop of blood within; child with deceptive human appearance concealing monstrous capabilities; inhuman, lethal, resistant — how will you fare when your puissant gift is rendered useless?
& she endeavours not to hide, errant suspended at unfamiliar, human resonance; azure, intrigued gaze affixed to masked stranger without response.
ANONYMOUSLY (OR NOT) TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ABOUT MY BLOG. I CAN’T REPLY, JUST PUBLISH.
Lips pressed firmly into an innocent smile. Monsters she says. It was humorous —what a daring young lady vowing to destroy such entities when one is standing right in front of her! Eyes too clouded to see perhaps? He knows well his form is nothing but normal to the naked eye.
“‘’Monsters’? May my words sound plain however—to where do you plan to find these problems?”
disparate threat, insignificant where fear is inexistent, monstrosity that is hardly as eldritch as he'd prefer to assume — no one here is scared of a shadow, no one, in monochrome wilds, is afraid of the dark; fear means failure & failure is not an option.
‶ here —- they are always here ——- somewhere. ″