#epeolatrie

[onlyxsurvivor]

@epeolatrie

“Will you just-- listen to me!” 

One foot planted against a wall, the Doctor yanked hard on the handcuff around his wrist-- he rattled it, pulled it every which way, but to no avail. A frustrated growl escaped through his teeth, and he glanced back up at Missy as she merrily picked her way across the console room. 

Cuffed to the railing in his own TARDIS, unable to reach the controls; that was a bit of a low blow, really.

“You don’t have to do this!”

[woolfcried]

         a short, harsh gasp of breath escaped her lips as the strings restraining the back of her plain gown were TIGHTENED rather than loosened as intended so she could slip it off more easily ( or rather, could be undressed in whatever manner the other had intended when they started this arduous task. ) as isobel was soon TAPPING out on the others wrist for them to stop in their tracks before she fainted in a puddle of her own dress and underclothes, even if it was one of the few times she had bothered to ASSERT herself. ‘no, no, don’t... don’t tug from there. i can hardly breathe.’

@epeolatrie

[oraculumin-archive]

@epeolatrie

      “thank you, captain obvious.” mia murmurs, the bitterness in her tone more at herself than her companion. she’s soaked to the bone (what is it and her arriving to events completely drenched with no viable reason?). it’s a curse, she decides in that moment, trying to wring some of the wetness out of her hair - it’s very nearly a lost cause. she makes a vague noise that resembles no words, only her frustration and irritation at he own clumsy stupidity. gravity is more at fault than she is, but her relationship with that particular state has always been risky at best. she longs to march to the nearest bath and bed, in that order, but can only stand miserably rooted to the spot with a death glare at her feet.

      “in my defense, i didn’t see the cable. or the tape designed to alert people to said cable. the pond water’s cold this time of year, in case you were wondering. and algae infested.”

❛      --    I   CAN’T  SAY   THAT   WAS  EXACTLY  ONE  OF  THE  QUESTIONS  ON  MY  MIND ,  NO .  ❜  a  gay  laugh .  she  should  have  been  upset ,  hours  of  careful  makeup  wasted ,  beautiful  versace  gown  ruined ,  loubtin  shoes   absolutely  soaking  wet  and  all  that  effort  that  went  into  styling  her  hair ,  arranging  every  curl --  she  had  been  alice’s  masterpiece .  but  this ,  this  was  too  funny .  it  was  something  even  the  psychic  could  not  have  predicted ,  she  had  been  giving  her  fairly  useful  tips  on  how  to  walk  in  high  heels ,  and  make  it  look  effortless ,  and  the  talk  had  served  as  distraction  enough  for  mia  to  go  toppling  into  the  pond  after  tripping  over  a  cable  .  it  had  even  taken  alice  a  moment  to  realize  her  companion  was  no  longer  humming  along  disinterestedly ,  but  rather  flailing  about  in murky  green  waters .   

               ❛   you  could  say  you  walked  right  into  that  one . ❜  cherry  red  lips  suppress  a  smirk ,  ❛   it’s  alright ,  there’s  nothing  i  can’t  salvage . ❜ . delicate  fingers  tug  out  a  damp  lock  of  hair ,  before  it  falls  back  in  place  with  a  slick ,  wet  sound .  ❛  not  even  this .  ❜

[cfthelabyrinth]

@epeolatrie​ reminds me of the babe 🦉

There is a cool gust of night air blowing through Sarah’s room which would no doubt have struck her as odd, where she more attentive, less lost in her own world. It dispels the still heat of June in ways almost uncomfortable: it smells of October, of changing leaves and faerie magic, but it is faint. Subtle. It clings mostly to HIM.

He wastes no time, upon his entry, in leaning down to her level, silken hair falling out of place as he shifts, the smell of change and otherworldliness so enveloping him that there can BE no mistaking him for anything other than he is.

“Sar~ah,” he calls lightly, teasingly, into her ear.

--But he isn’t there, not really. Without invitation or just cause, how can he be? No, he exists there in the way that all her dreams used to then, and still do now: suspended in glass, in this case the mirror, and just out of reach. There is no Jareth leaning over her shoulder behind her behind her - but the glass tells the truth.

[empathtm]

     he followed edward with his golden gaze, moving away and around the house, all buzzing with harried excitement and uncertainty over bella.  “he’s certainly different.”  jasper wasn’t sure it was for the worse, either. edward was so prone to fits of melancholy, even more than jasper with his prolonged bouts of depression, and it was nice to feel his brother’s emotions move towards the lighter.    //    @epeolatrie  /  ♥’d  ;  accepting