shark vs the universe
occasionally subtle
🪼
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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d e v o n
trying on a metaphor
roma★
DEAR READER
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
dirt enthusiast
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
KIROKAZE
h
Cosmic Funnies
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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YOU ARE THE REASON
Monterey Bay Aquarium
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Finland
seen from United States
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@edenbledmoved-blog
you look at her && you think about how she held your heart in her hands, once. she gave it back to you but it must have gotten lost in the space between because you swear it’s not there ; when you hold you hands to your chest you feel only emptiness. // ENTER.
find me over at @edenbled
IMPORTANT ! this blog will be archived && moved because it’s just a mess && i just can’t deal with it anymore.
BLUE SARGENT had forgotten how many times she had been told she would kill her true love. // ind. sel. pri. blue sargent of trc as writ by jailin. under construction.
FIND BLUE SARGENT @ @cupcarded
IMPORTANT ! this blog will be archived && moved because it’s just a mess && i just can’t deal with it anymore.
Kiko being a cutie
once, i might almost have seemed LIKE A PERSON to you. ind. sel. pri. book based tessa gray from cassandra clare’s shadowhunters series. established 5.15 rebooted 7.17 under construction. pre. angelclaimed.
tessa might be moving back to @angelclaimed stay tuned
i. you’ve lived past too many terrors, i’m afraid. airtight lungs && terrible things leave you choking. quietly, of course. very quietly. you cannot stand the thought of anyone else knowing that you are disintegrating though the small cracks in your bones.
ii. you were not then, you were not before. you are now. you are here. you exist in an empty plane. && darling, you are so terribly lonely.
iii. listen. do you hear ?? echoes that beat in your head, rhythmic screams && sudden pauses. you take comfort in those brief silences because then, you can close your eyes && hope for sleep. but those echoes, those goddamn echoes, they keep you awake, yet you suffer through the nightmares.
iv. you remember in glimpses : names. objects. places. me.
v. they’ve broken you. took you apart. taped back the pieces && called you brand new. this is who you are, they said. this is what you did.
vi. but you didn’t do it.
vii. but you didn’t do it. // ENTER.
When I became Ithuriel - when I Changed and destroyed Mortmain - how could I hate something that allowed me to protect the one I care about? It is not easy to be different, and even less so to be unique. But I begin to think I was never meant for an easy road.
Running through The Louvre, from Bernardo Bertolucci's The Dreamers.
Today the filmmaker turns 74. And to this day The Louvre forbids running.
gwyliim / knight in workmans clothing
@edenbled —- starter call!
❝ —- my name is herondale. william herondale, but everyone calls me will. is this your room? not very nice, is it? ❞ consider it curiosity that propels him forward, that allows questions to remain answered ( however spontaneously —- mentioning that he’d understood the art of japanese flowwer-arranging had little to nothing to do with the situation at hand, and yet it had been the first thing that came to mind ) even as gaze sweeps both cramped room and its inhabitant, grey eyes ablaze with a light of their own in the dimness. countered against the glow of witch-light in his palm, those of the stranger seem of an equal —- where once a sense of determination had rested, there now is a widening about them, a disbelief at any of the words that had sprung forth from his mouth. perhaps she had been expecting a knight of some sort, yet no knight had ever been as he now was, armed to the teeth, skin coated in dark runes that peeked over the edges of workman’s shirt as he cuffs it, casting a glance about all that surrounded the pair of them. somewhere, he’s dimly aware of porcelain snapping beneath boot-heel as steps carry him about the darkness, cupped witchlight casting deepening shadows along walls with faded paper, a narrow windowsill upon which two volumes rest, and while exceptionally gloomy, the room had held nothing of oddness about it until —- ah.
a hand gestures at latest finding, something that picks the room out to be unusual enough to have warranted his expedition. despite flickering glow, eyes are bright, their often-deep blue turning to the navy of dark seas, something curious in their depths. it wasn’t often that one was asked to be introduced when on attempting to rescue another, but so be it. ❝ do you often sleep tied to the bed? ❞
there is a sourness in her belly, a heat within her cheeks. shame. embarrassment ! watching this stranger pick apart this space that is more captivity pen than bedroom while her bones still ache from all too recent transformations a cooling fire in her veins, a poison slowly ebbing away. for all his good looks, tessa finds she still does not trust him : for all she knows, this could be a rouse. A TRICK ! the magister here to check upon his captive soon - to - be bride, wanting to gauge her unwillingness himself before forcing her to go through with it all the same. ( although, anyone who looked like that wouldn't need to tie girls up && imprison them in order to get them to marry him )
❛ do you often break into girls rooms uninvited ? ❜ cautious && a touch frightened still, she cannot hold her tongue. answers a question with a question in order to conceal unease yet does not believe attempt is anything noteworthy. bravado quite possibly FLIMSY AT BEST, so thrown off guard is she && part of her wishes she still had something in her hand to utilize should encounter turn sour.
allhumans ( c. frauchelevent. ) / have your wings been clipped ?
there were few memories of his MOTHER, of his life before the thénardiers and their inn. but he knew she was BEAUTIFUL. he knew her hair had been long and soft, and he knew her FACE –– her pink lips and blue eyes –– had been as PRETTY, if not prettier, than éponine’s dolls. he didn’t think he looked like her very much, for he knew he was UGLY: scrawny and filthy and scarred, with mussed and stringy hair, with knobby and UNDERFED limbs. éponine was right –– he knew she was right. he’d stay UGLY, he was sure of that –– everyone said so, not just the little thénardier girl. the TRUTH was quite a CERTAIN thing –– but it still hurt.
“–––––––––– y-yes. i think you’ll… be very B-BEAUTIFUL when you’re older, mademoiselle.” you’re ALREADY very beautiful, mademoiselle. maybe she wouldn’t want to talk anymore about how UGLY christophe was and would be. maybe they could pretend she hadn’t said it –– pretend it wasn’t TRUE. he gripped the handle of the broom, looking down at its bristles and his BARE, dirty feet. “you –––––– you LOOK like one of those… f-fine dolls,” he finished quietly, a small, sad SMILE pulling at his bruised lips.
eponine thenardier knew she is quite the pretty little girl nice hair, slightly pink cheeks &&, when she deigns to smile, it is said to be capable of being rather angelic when she wants it to be. her mother says so, as she fixes the bow in her hair or straightens the hem of her dress or gives her a goodnight kiss. her father says so, with his big hands on her cheeks or when she aids his attempts to get more money out of their customers. strangers say it as they eat their food or drink their liqueur or pass her on the street. but, indeed, it never hurts to hear further confirmation.
❛ thank you ! ❜ it is little more than necessity as it slips through her lips. vain - vain - vain ! her heart beats it out against the underbelly of butterfly ribs / her pulse hammers its affirmation against the fragility of her wrists. it would almost be cute on her, if she was not so capable of being vile simply because her parents are. ❛ when i grow up i’m going to have A MILLION FINE DOLLS. && everyone will be jealous of how fine my family is. ❜
detritusbled / rebellions are built on hope
wildfire hair with distant eyes. she is who he loves. there is something else there, something beneath the surface that is more than what the capitol displays. she is not shiny nor is she dull. she’s something else. a pearl in a sea. the unexpected beauty that doesn’t pale against finnick’s flair. easily, she lifts him in her quiet ways. OSTENTATIOUS suits him as restraint suits her. she is loved. lips curve upwards, nothing feigned as eyes meet hers. she is soothing, like the sea. it is easy to see why the other loves her. why the ghost of a smile incites katniss’s so easily. she is easy to be around. serene in the inanimate that surrounds her. limbs bend, body smoothly falling into the seat beside her. calculated are her words, soft spoken against the air between them. harsh edges smoothed down for the undine of district four. ❛ hi annie. ❜ honey waves pulled into braid sways, eyes searching for the sunlit boy. ❛ finnick still sleeping ? ❜
@edenbled, for annie. ♡.
it takes a moment for answer to form too into own mind for question to make it through haze so quickly. ( in her head there is sand between her toes / there is salt in her hair, sticking to the slick of her tongue / there is finnicks laughter in her ears. DANGER IS WORLDS AWAY ! ) ❛ katniss. ❜ gentle greeting : gentle smile widening just a touch. GIRL - MYTH / GIRL - CAUTIONARY TALE / GIRL -- OCEAN PERSONIFIED. between them, she thinks absently, they represent both fire && water. such powerful, beautiful forces each ( she envies katniss her strength ) / perhaps they should attempt to find air && earth to join in their conversation.
❛ yes. he said he wasn't sleeping well before but . . . i don't think he's sleeping all that well now . . . ❜ looks away. focuses sea - green gaze against opposite wall, absently running fragile hand along dark waves. motion little more than one of petting. there is worry, concern pulling at lovely mien before attention slips back to REBELLIONS SYMBOL. ❛ are you sleeping well ? ❜
allhumans ( c. frauchelevent. ) / you find me in the gutter
he’d not recognized her but for her PARENTS –– and he suspected she might not have known him were it not for her father and mother RECOGNIZING his papa. but there she was now, several STREETS away from the disgruntled incident –– from that BEAUTIFUL girl he’d seen, heavenly father –– and STANDING before him with an expression of complete knowing. “–––––––––– éponine.” her name was not a QUESTION, but it was still uncertain on his tongue –– he wasn’t sure he’d ever actually VOICED her christian name. she’d always been ‘mademoiselle,’ per madame and monseiur’s ORDERS, save in his childish dreams.
@edenbled // CHRISTOPHE & ÉPONINE ( closed )
’ you’ll be very ugly. ’ : little girl voice echoes in her head, remnant of a different time / a different life / a different her. an eponine clad in nice clothes with parents who loved her && an equally little boy to take her frustrations out on. HOW THE TABLES HAVE TURNED. how the prophecy has rebounded for he to be far from ugly && she feels far from beautiful these days with her tangled hair, her dirt smeared flesh && bruises dotting. ❛ christophe. ❜ miracle in itself that she has spoken as bitter as she feels. AS CHEATED !
breaking my hiatus to ask a question! I'm nowhere near adding this character yet ( I have to reread 6 books && see if I can find 7-8 somewhere online ) but there's this character from the series thirst by Christopher Pike ( or whatever it was originally released as in the 90s ) who was born 5k years ago in the area now known as India. from what I remember ( it's been years ) she follows Hinduism, believes in && met Krishna. however, up until she inhabits the body of a bloodline descendant who is Mexican, she's described as a white girl : pale skin, blonde hair, blue eyes. I feel like, instead of following this description which I always found odd, I should use an Indian fc. if anyone had any thoughts or suggestions, I would be much obliged!
