Discover Top Posts Tagged with #pevrlescent

[ ✑Do you know what the assignment for Anatomy is, by chance? ]

[ sms ]: Uh I believe it was knowing the different terminology [ sms ]: be able to memorize and write about at least 10 of them [ sms ]: There was more but I wasnt paying attention lol

#.wa #pevrlescent

[ ✑What did you do? ]

SEND "Wʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ?" AND I'LL GENERATE A NUMBER OR SEND A NUMBER (WITHOUT PEEKING!)

9.Yᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴜsᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋs ɪɴ ᴏɴ ᴍɪɴᴇ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛ sᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ.

—ᴀs ɪғ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ had ever been such a prediction. Such an outcome in place, in thought. In fragments of paper flying in the wind. Not put to words, unnoticed and unexpected. Yet there he is. There is, the gleam of crystal against his wooden table — the desk he has spent countless hours by during the past years. Pale fingertips drum against the polished surface, as if infected by impatience, when all that actually lingers is the smallest hint of fright. His decision is a difficult one and one he has gone over twice as many times as any other. Maybe, it seems so easy to others because they might be careless, thoughtless. He doesn’t know. Because he hasn’t asked, doesn’t care enough to ask. But to him it’s difficult, because leaving — departing from the world he has grown so fond of, means he’s leaving so many things behind unfinished. He hasn’t written any letters, is going to give his loved ones nothing but a lingering question mark and a crevice in their own existence. He knows and for that he is ashamed.

But alas, going on like this is impossible. For, how much darkness can he contain, before it escapes his senses? And it takes over?

Some days, he’s more than sure that it already has. And perhaps, that is why he’s even considering this. Why he finds himself like this, with fingers slowly clasping around glass, glass that contains that which he is most sensitive to. At least, when it comes to the manner he intends to expose himself to it. To his skin, it it nothing more than a mere irritation, but through indigestion, it is most lethal. A peaceful way to go, no injuries, no external horror for whomever might glance at him.

Well planned, arranged so that he is to remain out of sight. Curtains drawn, lights dimmed. Silence. Deafening silence. The silence he wishes his mind could have held a bit more often. A bitter smile, a laugh at the tip of his tongue as he beholds his own shaking hands. He believes it to be cowardly, this way of escaping. But at the same time, he believes he has no other choice. there are too many memories, too many flashes. To much loss and so many voices he wants to silence.

They are all, dragging him towards an insanity he’s unwilling to face. Chains wrapped around wrists and ankles, preventing him from moving freely. Soul caged within words and forbidden thoughts — the fire in his heart suffocated. Allowing him to question himself more than before. Allowing these shades of grey to infest his usually burning, bright cerise and reds.

Glass is brought to pale lips, cold at first touch, warming up so easily. Hand still shaking, eyes wide open. Translucent droplets, gleaming at the corner of his eyes. One part wants to stay — to live on and continue breathing. The other wants nothing but to become one with the blackness, whispering his name in his sleep. Overpowering everything else and leaving him weak.

Awareness. He knows she’s there. He knows, but he has already gone too far to stop: crossed every possible line and fallen over the edge. The thorns in his heart can’t be pulled out, the cavities in his heart unrepairable and the monsters in his head impossible to satiate. Luring him closer, second by second. It burns so sweetly, when the first few droplets hit his tongue, eyes closing and hopes fading. Alongside everything he is.

He swallows more, hears the door fly open but he doesn’t bother to open his eyes. Everything is already hurting, stinging from the inside and out. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth and when he finally finishes the vial and sets it back down, that is the first time he looks up at her.

Fear. Fear is twisting her features and he can see it, fingers stretched out towards her as he coughs, blood staining his chin and chest. Eyes, slowly ridded of color and gleam. She needn’t ask, for he knows she wants to know. Lips parting and words escaping, low — hoarse and whispered.

“I’m so sorry, hóvirág.”

A bitter smile and a slow flutter of eyelids. He tries to stand, weakened already and barely holding his own weight properly. Clumsy as he holds on to the table to keep himself upright. Glass slipping trough slender fingers, hitting the floor and shattering into millions of pieces.

“Holy water.”

Is the only explanation she gets, before fire sparks at his fingertips and he knows time is running out.

There is, rarely ever a remedy for a heart that no longer wants to beat. For a mind, that has given up the struggle to stay strong. Seeking ways to mend, is far passed. You weren’t, meant to meet me like this.

S̵͚͐a̴̜̋v̴̜̎e̷̤͊ ̶̯̋m̸̟̽e̴̞̾.̷̛̳

#—AU—#pevrlescent #question;response

[ ✑Aegerine, blue lace agate, carnelian. ]

sᴇɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴄʀʏsᴛᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴛᴇʟʟ…

— ᴀᴇɢᴇʀɪɴᴇ: ᴍʏ ᴍᴜsᴇ's ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ

Izák is a pureblooded vampire, born into the world like any other human child and therefore a minority amongst the supernatural creatures. Leading to him feeling maybe just a tad more respectful towards them than other of his kind do. Simply because he knows they exist in greater numbers and he can easily be lost to them if he’s not careful enough. Adding to it that he is respectful towards all creatures, he simply wishes they can all exist in harmony. Without pointless arguments and violence.

— ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɢᴀᴛᴇ: ᴍʏ ᴍᴜsᴇ's ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ғᴏʀᴍ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ (ᴠᴇʀʙᴀʟ, ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀs, ᴛᴇxᴛɪɴɢ, ᴇᴛᴄ.)

As odd as it may sound, Izák adores to communicate through poems. Simply because it’s the way he always expresses his own turmoil the easiest, so one should not be surprised if he starts to speak verses, when he has to explain something of great value to him.

— ᴄᴀʀɴᴇʟɪᴀɴ: ᴀɴ ᴀʀᴛ-ʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ

Ever since Izák started having his precognitious dreams, he has been painting each scenario he sees in his sleep. And simply because of this, since his mind is always influenced, he has never sold a single one of his own paintings to anyone. They all remain hidden in his attic, and he barely ever looks at them himself. Since his ability gives him a lot of shame.

#[ hope this is sufficient! And thank you for sending!]#pevrlescent #question:response

ღ.

ATTRACTION MEME.

Romantic attraction:

Sexual attraction:

Aesthetic attraction:

Sensual attraction:

#pevrlescent #&inquired #&sent

Beware the wood whispered the moth wives in their drab frocks. They sat, three skeletons in a row on teetering chairs, with sunken gaze on the treeline. One pulled the thread, one knit the thread, and the last snipped the thread– all knotted hands moved diligently over their work, tirelessly weaving a fabric of unknown material or purpose. She could only lower her head obediently and turn her heels to return back to the heart of their village. But with an offhanded glance back, the trio of aged women wore grins carved deeply into their faces. She walked away faster, haunted by the sight. Beware the wood cried the spider mothers with their ashen tears. They wept, another daughter lost to an unwanted marriage, with arms outstretched to the child bride. The bouquets were long-withered, the celebratory banquets festering beneath a midday sun. What more could they do for them? The shedding of a virgin’s first blood protected a girl forever after. White robes to black, the death of innocence and the birth of fear settled into the hearts of youth no older than their twelfth year. She tightened her jaw, envious only of wails that would never once cry for her, an orphan without grasping hands nor hearth to call her own. Beware the wood echoed the owl king with his crown of smoke rings. He reclined, perched upon a broken throne supported by archaic texts none left could read, with great wisedom in his pose. Night was fast approaching, questions rose with the silver moon, and the eldest daughter to the village was growing impatient with every passing moment he spent packing yet another pipe. A match was struck, and the shadows grew long from beneath the cluttered stacks of books– Like trees, she supposed. Beware the wood, the filthy woes and briar’s tithe. It comes a'lurking, to feast on flesh and child blithe. By virgin’s blood, By child’s cry, The fiending creature’s Howl is nigh. Beware the wolf, dear girl, the snapping fangs and snatching claw. He comes a'wand'rin With yellow eyes and grinning maw. His words spun more riddles than answers, but she never had the time to press on further. The man released a shuddering breathe, a throat-splintering bark, and a gentle sigh. By the third, his body fell free from his soul and onto the floorboards below. A shriek, and her feet had already carried her out the door far beyond the spider mothers, moth wives, and their village of crow children. Away, away– to the path of the needle and the nail, to the forest’s edge, to the darkness. The thorns were what caught her, urged her to take a moment’s rest. She tugged and tugged, but they were jealous of her rose-red robes that bled so well on their roots. She fell to her knees in exasperated prayer and wept. Charlotte belonged nowhere, now, except to a bunch of angry weeds that disciplined her every action with sharp pricks to her fair skin. Nobody but the rain would mourn her. A resounding snap of decayed wood froze her spine stiff. She saw a thousand things in the shadows, imagined the mud-matted fur of a beast twice her size rolling its haunches at her misfortune. Its lips would pull back to reveal the last victim’s shredded bones between its teeth, and then lunge toward her bloody demise. Screaming. Slaughtered. Suffering. It came closer, into the moonlight and she shuddered to find– a boy? Or the ghost of one, maybe, with wild hair and silent eyes that glowed even from seven paces away.

A bitter wind blew from the northeast, piercing his merely clothed body as he continued dragging his feet– cheeks sunken with dark eyes watching the night. But then came the jerk of his body as if someone tried unlatching his ribs. It became more feral, ground shaking underneath with skinny digits reaching blindly for something- anything to hold. The boy parted his quivering pairs in one and two, following seconds of another reckoning episode as salty liquid pouring down his pores in furious flow. His eyes were once flickered in distinct color turning into pitch coal, pupil dilated through stiffen limbs and protruding bones flexing furiously under his mortal skin. A loud inhumane groan could be heard after, ripping out the silence within void, leaving echoes of obscured pants mingling through thick air of another night in this hell.

Blunt nails sinking cruelly to his own flesh, he was on fire. Raw sanity trapped on the back of his mind with the feeling of someone starting to peel off his skin in agonizing slow movement, the male constantly piercing the skin without pausing. Another sound of roaring core of pure reckoning only splitting further to the moment he felt completely foreign yet familiar over his own voice. Mouth agape, his lungs constricting harshly, preventing himself to inhale oxygen even just for a brief. Desperately, the trembling carcass started crawling the ground; all weakened and pathetic. But the voices inside his head only drowning him into a different kind of comatose and when he was only inches away, something snapped inside him then just like a rag doll, he slumped back. Unmoving, not breathing.

As the night turned darker and moon went brighter, there was a reckoning howl and unsteady breathing, loud rustles of 6 feet of fur once his wrecked vessel beginning to rise, all the same but not the same once shred of the young mortal, vanished into abyss. Awakening the odious beast, all vile and execrable, an abomination on earth that cause human moral revulsion. Fully awakening at the sight of full moon with an extreme case of possible blood lust and sadistic intention. He was no longer the boy he was, he was something else.

What was there to tell; the devil reincarnated or the devil himself in flesh? he was wrapped in coat of fur with thorny scent of dirt and soil. Build from ashes and blood, raised for the throne of bones. The boy was long gone, in between human and beast, mistaken, lost even. He was the reaper, the living breathing of monster that creep in the darkness with sharpened fangs and blood stained claws. The awaken beast that feed on nothing but flesh, breathing, living human. Yet he was also a mortal; a young boy with silver strands and dull eyes. Beware the wood they say, beware the wood they mock. Set of fangs howled into the night, eyes piercing with scorching fire instead of tiny spark that mere human could only have. He was a being from both world; the night and the morning, the water and fire. Both sun and moon, he was the child of horror.

There was another sound that lingered in the wood, a whisper, as if it was telling him there was something– or someone? More and more, unseen mouths, breathing into his ear with words that only he could understood. They were telling him to run, to see, to find. As his feet moved closer and snap of decayed wood following behind, he stopped the moment he saw a mortal in crimson robes with sad eyes and trembling body. He wasn't sure of how he came back in his human form, which fitting him all in old angles. The wild boy stared with piercing and hollowed gaze; watching, observing and waiting from afar.

#pevrlescent #r #le petit chaperon rouge

19.

i rly love you guys for this one! -► development meme: accepting!!!

19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now?The term adoption was spoken of as if it were a magical thing. When he left The School, he’d hoped for magic. Love, a mother and father, maybe some siblings, and a normal life. But the situation he was brought into was less than favourable. A single mom, no siblings, not enough love. The only thing he achieved was normality. It’d be not normal to have a family with parents that loved each other, siblings, and continued support. He didn’t discover that until he went to a real school! Maybe his situation wasn’t exactly bad, but at least back then he could have all the fun he wanted! And play!! I guess he’s grown out of that. He can’t be a child forever.

Currently, he’s realizing that not everyone is good and true. It’s a painful thing for him to come to terms with. Well, not for him, but for people around him to witness. He’s slowly wrapping his head around it…slowly…but surely!

#pevrlescent #headcanon.#//#thankies :~)

[ stormy mermaid ]

stormy mermaid: does the sound of rain and thunder relax you?

Not really, but I like the sound. It’s pleasant.

#( .answer )#pevrlescent

[ I want the K ? ]

send me ‘i want the k’ and i’ll randomly generate a number. ( nsfw ) - #14: such along the hip bones

he thinks she’s the most beautiful like this. pretty in a way he can’t call fragile, her hair undone and everywhere, her skin glowing from sweat and post orgasm bliss. the afternoon glow from the sun filtering through the long windows of the room helps him admire her, as she smiles up at him.

like always, there are no words from her.

but there doesn’t need to be, when she makes the softest sounds of encouragement as his lips trail down the planes of her body, his fingers exploring the curve of her petite body, caress the swell of her ass as she arches off the sheets when his lips find purchase at her breast.

it’s always slow, almost sweet the way they consume their bodies, but it leaves them breathless at the end, chanyeol’s body brimming with ecstasy even after they’ve laid down to rest.

chanyeol’s tongue licks a strip down her navel, before he moves his mouth to the side, sucking gently at the skin over her hip bones just to feel her tug at his hair, eyes laughing as he looks up at her. she’s pouting, but the euphoria is evident in her dark eyes, her chest raising and falling as she pants. it’s a ticklish spot, and chanyeol learned that early on, always abusing it when he wants to get a reaction from her.

it’s only then that his mouth dips in between her thighs, just to see if he can make her grow louder.

#pevrlescent #answered