‧₊˚Dream-haunted ⊹°.

"She, an epitaph of morbid secrets, and hidden reveries. So lost the lachrymose girl was within realms far too big for her fragile heart to bear. The darling one was an orphic creature materialized from the enigmatic pages of fairytale mythos; a whimsical little Crystalsong nymph belonging to a subnivean heaven where spirits roamed solemnly alongside her amongst the clouds as ephemeral as she." .... ｡･*･ﾟ☽ .... "White flowers oft-grown by the earth those delicate footfalls traipsed, borne from the tears wept from glassy opalescent hues. From the softest petals that were her lips ghost-laden eulogies spilled; woven of alluring albeit funereal lullabies and hymns, as otherworlds far too paradoxical to fathom manifested from the depths of her haunted subconscious. Wherever this infinitesimal fae-elf traversed, Death and Winter would surely follow her."     .... ｡･*･ﾟ☽ .... IC & OOC blog for my multi-verse original character Amora'lei Ofelia Moonsong aka 'The Nymph'. As played as faction neutral on WrA/MG.

[snowfallen-nymph]

Your pale elf looks submissive and breedable.

“Mnn… What a strange thing to say….

Not… that you would ever know, nor could find out, little Shadowling…”

The darling elf twirled upon pointed footsteps, humming lowly to herself, drifting back to whatever little reverie that kept her otherwise occupied. As if simply hearing nothing at all from the peculiar shadows.

- { thanks!!! uhh… i suppose, ‘nonny!! }

[snowfallen-nymph]

☠ Do they fear death?

“Death…?” Delicate susurration spilled from roseate lips; the Nymph pirouetted such words ‘twixt shallowed hollows of mind and forethought. A feeble dance intangible to what truly could be said of enigmatic inquiry.

Amora’lei traipsed henceforth, upon pointed footfall with willowy limbs gifted behind her and primly resting at the base of her back. Opaline hues lowered in bashful grace; the snowfall of feathery lashes kissing the roseate curves of cheekbones whilst she hummed lowly to herself a song which permeated from blushed tiers that echoed like a frigid breath against a mellifluous lilt.

“Once upon a time, p-perhaps, I… feared such.. for how can I fear what I am… and what all is to eventually be? All life comes to an end, darling… Shadow…

All life… comes to an end…..”

{ tysm!! @allasticus }

[horrificmemes]

Horrific Headcanons

Send a symbol for a headcanon about my muse. All horror/angst/scifi related.

✘ Have they ever committed a murder? ▼ What is their greatest fear? ✿ Would they ever trust dark or wicked magic? △ Name one thing from their past that they regret. ✂ If they had to choose one weapon to carry forever, what would it be? ☣ Would they kill someone close to them if they had to? ☢ Would they survive an apocalyptic situation? ❣ If someone had the power to bring them back after death, would they want them to? ☠ Do they fear death? ♱ What do they think awaits them after death? ¿ Are they easily frightened? ╳ How would they react to seeing a loved one become possessed? ☹ Name one person they would kill for. ☼ If they had the choice to be immortal with one other person, who would they choose? ☎ How would they react to receiving a phone call from a deceased love one? ★ Do they have a favorite scary movie? Book? Show? ♣ Do they believe the world is made up of good and evil? ♥ Have they ever acting out of heartlessness? ☾ What is their favorite and least favorite thing about the night? ψ Do they think they deserve punishment for their wrongdoings? ϟ Have they ever gotten pleasure from causing others pain? ♚ Do they consider themselves to be evil? ♒ If they could choose how to die, how would they want to go? ™ Are they possessive? ✔ Are they holding a grudge against anyone? ◯ Do they believe in ghosts? ✦ Who is their favorite villain? ☄ While watching a scary movie, are they the one clinging to a friend or being clung to? 웃 Do they believe in aliens?

[darling-damage]

PS: This is my first gif ever. This is my version of the slenderman forest, if i ever get lost in there...

[angelpetale-deactivated20260314]

[petaltexturedskies]

Clarice Lispector, Água Viva

[snowfallen-nymph]

“Oh darling marionette, a figurine pirouetting within a music box of gossamer threads.

Unbound to any handle, she danced to a haunting melody that pulled the heartstrings of a ghost that trembled within the confines of a ball-jointed effigy.”

[desumochibear-blog]

A rose-limbed porcelain doll with petals in her flesh. A tiny moon girl, fragility frail, plucked rose from her hair. A longing love letter found written all over her skin. She was broken from her bow rimmed head to the petticoat of her dress. The tears of the sea she cried rippled along the petals from her flesh. There were moons in her cracked porcelain. Butterflies in her heart shattered their wings, cut through her ribcage. There are shards of glass fluttering along the rivers in her veins. She was a broken rose-limbed dollie, a tiny moon girl whom is still healing. ♡

[snowfallen-nymph]

Beyond the Looking Glass

The Nymph lay quietly, perched along the edge of a creek that trickled quietly against the driven snow banks. A faerie circle of blooming sylphlike flora encompassed her from the perpetual mourning and previous falling of teardrops. A bare foot idly kicked within the frigid water, somnolent gaze glassy, reflecting the rippling crescent moon within wintry hollow depths, and no matter how hard she stared and longed for it so, her image would never reveal itself. The lower tier of her rose petal lips quivered, the brooding blizzard of thought but a catalyst to the palpitating sensation within her chest where her heart began its perpetuated corruption of the consciousness, consuming her mind entirely with poisoned phantasmagoria and emotions both her’s and not her own.

Her opaline eyes reflected otherworlds. Alll of the realms she had seen, all of the secrets she had apprehended, and all of the magic which has and ever shall be coarsed through her vessel. Veins of azure reflected from her with a wavering caustic light, moon-kissed flesh diaphanous as ice. A rabbit’s heart made of frangible glass, a bell jar of dreams, retained all the pain of every denizen of worlds she had crossed, and even the memories of those that have come and gone. A snow globe of her vision turned upside-down upon repetition, only to be revealed within the windows of her soul that dare harbored these burdensome truths. Unearthly pale, neither flesh nor blood, a balletic dream sequence leaving one to wonder if she even existed at all in this reality that could barely paint her image within the unworthy vision of those that resided within the physical realm.

Oh darling little one, Weeping Willow of the North. For how those roots have long-been engrained into your phosphorescent husk. This too shall pass, or so you’ve told yourself so many times throughout these years you’ve begun to forget when it all started or if it will ever end.

“I–.. was left choking on the echoes of my own stars,” spoke she, the infinitesimal fae so very quietly to the Nothing that filled the void of her being, a now empty labyrinth once harboring a ghost of her past with eldritch clutches far more engrained than the eldest tree in the woods. A single hand rose, spidery digits curling inward as if to grasp at something not quite tangibly there upon the slow rise and fall of her bosom. Much had changed within the recent months for the Nymph, something she could not quite put her finger on. No matter how she dared, it was as if a tickling sensation coaxed the back of her mind, memory eluding to what exactly it was she wanted to remember. Deja vu and catatonic states became repetitious ritual, and the taste of once familiar words always dancing upon the tip of her tongue, yet no matter how she sang nor wove hymns into verse, nothing would feel the same.

Apparitions that had all long since forgotten their names took shape of cyan wisps to accompany her during these troubled times of longing and respite, and in return she bestowed them an epithet of their own which marked her canvas of alabastrine flesh. Faintly shimmering scars marked by her own clawed fingertips, her body the new pages of a grimoire much like the tattered old thing often seen by her side known as the original keeper of all her documented dreams and secrets. Ah, such a strange creature with a martyred personality flaw to bear these woes, barely hanging along the spool of thread of reality; a wandering phantasm herself, offering some semblance of eternal memory to those in need, unlike what could have been done for her in return.

Crystalline tears brimmed along the ducts of glassy hues, mirroring the moonlight in opalescent fluxes, before spilling in droplets that landed on an open-faced palm. A dulcet murmur escaped pursed petals, a secret susurration given to the tear that surely froze into a snowflake within the center of her daintily curled digits. Not long after the Nymph perched herself to be seated along her hip, a willowy limb then extended skyward sinuous and languid, bestowing a gift to the heavens for another star to piece together yet another constellation that told of the stories her heart could only, and the names of those long since lost of the world so that they could finally be remembered in some form or fashion. If not so, then perhaps only to her. A single star stood out from the rest; a bright glimmer of cool silver burning at the wake of the ethereal brush strokes of an aurora. Something akin to a guide, so to speak, centered right above the ruins of The Menagerie. It was here beneath its peak within the crystalline forest the gossamer fae reside, awaiting all who come in search of a place of belonging, or perhaps to bid idiosyncratic curiosity to be sated.

“Ahh, but now no longer…

S-So… then then let them come… and let us see what echoes ch-choke from the depths of their consciousness…”

[marquisedeserault]

A WALTZ ALONG A RAZOR'S EDGE

[snowfallen-nymph]

-taps mic-

hello, is this thing on?? another vague attempt to see who still uses Tumblr, or RPs here? c’:

thinking about coming back heheh…

[kittycatkissu]

Amora'lei for @xnymphie on twitter

[exit-lights-the-sky-deactivated]

†††

[riverbaptism]

[ofallingstar]

“Who whispers so sadly, as if in dream?”

— Georg Trakl, from Melusine (tr. by Jim Doss and Werner Schmitt)   (via megairea)

[zarathustra-would-be-proud]

[mothprincess]

Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath