PEREGRINE. @limboic-blog - Tumblr Blog

& alphapined

It’s not too difficult to predict what will probably happen to this girl with a SPRING in her step... not when the forest is this dense.

“Be careful, those branches are---- !

...nevermind.”

#alphapined #& FORWARD! into the UNKNOWN!#asdfdgfh this is a bit late i apologize #how are you?

untrustyou

astrumn-deactivated20150319

untrustyou:

Amanda Elledge

#this is almost the same color as my theme i'm s o #& welcome to the unknown.

//this is random, but omg ur portryal is AMAZING i can almost hear Wirt's voice in ur writing!

WANDERER. i’m.

#om g thank you asdfdgfhjg #& words to make the day shine.#wispiiish

winsthewar-blog

plots i’d kill for

s o u l m a t e s

REINCARNATION

bonnie and clyde au

natural born killers au

‘you were overseas with my brother/sister/boyfriend and i lowkey resent you because you came back and they didn’t’ au

‘you’re a vampire and i look exactly like the lover you sired centuries ago but had to kill why the fuck are you staring at me like that should i be scared i’m scared ’ au

‘i came to your house party but it was lame and you were super rude to little drunk me so i stole your cat/dog cOME GET IT NOW PLS’ au

#s creams.#& wishlist.

treebleedings:

HE DOESN’T FEEL LIKE TALKING, not to him, not to anyone, ever, but there were words stuck in his throat. FEELINGS long gone forcing themselves into his VISAGE. Anger BOILING hot guides him as he strides to the front, towering over the BOY as if he could make him disappear just by INTIMIDATING him.

“I AM.”

“B-But that doesn’t make any sense, Greg, Greg is----”

Another step back and his words catch on his throat, the seed of doubt slowly sinking its roots into his mind. What is real, what is not; was his return but a DREAM ? Never has he ever imagined himself in this state...

--------and as poetic as he is, his imagination is not this PRECISE.

#treebleedings #& FORWARD! into the UNKNOWN!#he's gonna have an anxiety attack if wirt keeps it up lm a o #CRIES A BIT

#cries about ships in which this nerd is involved tbh... cries forever #oh the fluff. oh the pAI N #;tbd #WANDERER.

treebleedings:

THE VOICE ONLY CONFIRMS HIS FEARS, even after years of walking these woods alone he can identify the voice that talked back to him from his POETRY tapes. Foolish pastimes of a boy still carrying his innocence. The MIRAGE cannot see him, not yet for he is CLOUDED by the darkness he oh so expertly twists to cover himself. Unsure what approach he should take, how to REVEAL himself to this.. to this THING he lifts the shade from his eyes, and stares, unyielding.

He can feel all his hair standing on end, barely capable of keeping himself from shuddering at the sight of those eyes, wide and GLOWING with the same eerie light that greets him in his worst nightmares. Despite them being the first thing he sees, it doesn’t take anything else to get him to give a step back, FEAR morphing into CONFUSION then INCREDULITY once he focuses on the features peering at him from behind a tree.

“That’s impossible, you...

--------you can’t be REAL.”

#treebleedings #& FORWARD! into the UNKNOWN!#ahhhhh i'm so excited tbh.

lazuurite

[ inaudible electric nose sounds ]

coming back to this blog was probably the best idea i’ve had in a long time; & i’m beyond happy to share such a wonderful experience with my lovely followers. without your support, & love; this wouldn’t have been such a close goal. thank you all so much ! 〔´∇｀〕

friends / inspirations !!

#om g you ultimate cutie.....#incoherent rabu noiSES #thank you love. ♥#& words to make the day shine.

treebleedings:

limboic

THE FOOTSTEPS ARE FAMILIAR, && he has to look down at his own feet to make sure they weren’t his. No, they were too lighthearted.. not enough mass on them, they weren’t HIS. Well, all and all they were someones and he needed to know who it was, if he could.. use them in any way. && so his legs take tim to the sound, silent as always, just to see a mirage of times long past. Forcing him to make a noise of distress. W H Y WAS HE HERE

The wall had yet again managed to drag him into a reality he so desperately crawled out from the last time; leaving him ( a poet, a CHILD not as innocent as the one that unwillingly discovered this place ) alone to wander the woods. Which he would have... if the landscape around him wasn’t so horribly familiar. There are memories he’d rather forget, like those of a hurried escape and a brief embrace with death herself; cold seeping through his clothes into his very bones. And so his steps come to a halt, reminiscing; a haze that only disappears after the sound of ( what appears to be ) a TWIG snapping reaches his ears. Paranoia takes over, and his neck almost hurts due to how fast he turns towards the sound, squinting as if hoping to find an answer in the darkness. Perhaps asking is foolish, but so is coming here ALONE.

“Is... someone there ?”

#treebleedings #& FORWARD! into the UNKNOWN!#i hope this is okay!#if not we can plot something different adsfgdhf.