moved!

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuumarchive-deactivated2017]

an old god’s weapon. a cruel god’s tool.

[mortiuum-archive]

there is a thin line between being sassy and being an asshole and i cross it every day

[carryonanyway]

I want to love, but my hair smells of war and running and running.

Warsan Shire  (via earnestly)

[solidsender]

[mortiuum-archive]

sxkabatou:

     ❝ Excuse me—! ❞ He jumped over an abandoned crate, almost colliding with an unsteady rickshaw, and ducked and ran across the busy market, eyes sweeping over people to find someplace to hide from the police, who, with batons in their hands, shouted angrily at him. Of course. It was about the edict for carrying swords again. A nervous chuckle flew out from his mouth as he crouched and snuggled beside a pile of rotten vegetables, completely out of sight thanks to the female standing before him.

     ❝ Please don’t tell them I’m here? ❞

     she stood, unfettered. a bewildered stare, more      surprise than she knew what to do with. yet, it      was but an instance or two ‘fore the cranks of      her mind slipped into motion, a mere blink to      foretell her quiet, implicative compliance.

     and so the officials ricochet towards her,      gunpoint fumes teetering { alarm } from their      lips. she gives an uninterested glance towards      the produce she had been inspecting, lightly      jabbing a thumb in the opposite direction      of their quarrel.

     ‘ he went that way, ’ and off they sprinted.

[abcdefg2789-deactivated20201122]

You look and love and roll your eyes,consider it weak and pathetic.You are much too strong for it.Scoff at Romeo and Juliet,see a couple kissing under missile toeand want to throw up.Everyone is holding hands butthe spaces between your fingershave never been filled.How can people fall so hard?How can they hand their heart over,say here, take it, rip it in half,have your way with it.Say here, be my salvation.Here, love me into oblivion.The truth is: even if you had love,you would probably ruin it,you would sabotage it to protectyourself from the hurt.You wouldn’t know what to do,where to put your hands,an actor in a playwho never learnt the lines.In the late afternoon you unlock the door,turn the kitchen light on,quietly admit you want someoneto come home to.Love, it is the wine that as a child,you were allowed to smellbut never taste.The flame you look at but wouldn’t dare touch.

jessica therese, “On not knowing how to Love” (via contramonte)

[mortiuum-archive]

naragukil said: (slides the biggest antagonizer ever towards u—]

     br u h ye s

[mortiuum-archive]

     i need more angry, disheveled,      yelling aylen in my life.