DEATH OF DIVINE @ultaegrr - Tumblr Blog

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#honestly if no one kisses lif at some point im yeeting from existence #pls hes beautiful and dead but listej jxjxjdjdjdjjd #mobile #tbd.

lanshappycorner

EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO SENRI KITA FOR THE MEAL!!!!

#ive been so fucking well FED MY BOIS #IM FERAL HODAMN #tba.#visage tag pending.

Okay hear me out y'all.

Corpse Bride au.

#tbd.#no im not taking criticism #mobile.

birdsofpasssage

flowers still bloom in hel

#tba.#visage tag pending.#MMMM I LOVE ONE UNDEAD BASTARD

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#if this gets 10 notes ill post a nsf//w headcanon for u horny bastards this sinday #tbd.#mobile.

aiyamiu

#⸰ . ° ♔ —— ◟ ❝ marionette corpse ; gnarled n’ decaying ; where is your tombstone ❞ — aesthetic ◝

catradorea

ou†last 2 gifs [1/?]

#⸰ . ° ♔ —— ◟ ❝ marionette corpse ; gnarled n’ decaying ; where is your tombstone ❞ — aesthetic ◝

@royalboncls ･☪·˖☆ Continuation ☆ Inquiry resonse we’re ignoring the yeet

DEATH. AN ENDING. ; CRUEL YET BEAUTIFULLY MERCIFUL ; , one in which drove self true ‘pon the mourning of the living with dis-tasting satisfaction. death ; a cruel heartless fixture among mortals. for it is a fear those unbound to immortality. ----- ( CADAVER KNEW WELL ) — waning moon. a comfort of deathless one ; for darkness seeps within curvature of landscape ; seething along lakefront ---- a melancholic tonality to it all as moonlight strikes visage of corpse / azure illuminated as rippling lake breathed visage of looming figure. death is a haunting beauty among the living it seems . he is not kind. he is not cruel. yet he is true.. ichor of crimson hues remain gazing ‘pon pathing of his , patrol having paused as figure knelt betwixt the foliage of ancient trees &’ birthing rose. gentle he be brushing blooming bud’s with a calming - loving tonality for movement/ ( o’weeping cadaver --- do you yearn for the touch of warmth once more upon frigid fingertips -- ? ? ) ----- he rises for a moment after ‘pon the breaking of gravel / gaze turns however narrow with emergence of lone crown. ( O’CROWN WANDERING SO. WHY MUST YOU DISRESPECT THE DEAD WITH SUCH THROE ) . vexing it be in utmost truth ------ arrogant / disrespecting / twit of EXALT he be, opting to reject the finality of death &’ it’s beauty. yet undead king cannot come to hate him so. for he is life --- a truth that undead can no longer grasp. &’ yet hero pauses ------ settling to face ways from corpse ( REJECTING THE DEAD ONCE MORE ) azure of living’s gaze never wavering of lake’s rippling waters. f , O’ HOW CRUEL YOU ARE LIVING CROWN. INQUIRING HIS HIGHNESS SO BLUNTLY AFTER SUCH REJECTION. vocals eased forth in tension drift atmosphere —– caressed with VENOM-LESS ease. &&’ yet it is but a somber tone for lifeless kissed warrior. —– a frown would have been should he’d still have maw.

‘ question. ------ you sound so much like my mother. why -- ? ‘

HE IS NO FOOL TO THE TONALITY OF WHICH HE TAKES ; , heed what others may belive of his vocals to take form of. ( THOSE OF A MOTHER. A FATHER. A SISTER. BROTHER. A LOVER ) ; such thriving life ceased every once &&’ while. after all... his vocal’s conform to that of one’s mostly cherished --- one that causes utmost calm ----- for death is a finality that is met with a cruel fate. it is an abyss that welcomes thee with loving palms &’ soothing song. ; undead king is no different. for he is personification of a death most foul --- yet so so agonizingly , so mournfully beautiful. he has no vocal’s himself in truth --- his true voice having long gone in the throes of his violent death eons prior to now. —— . he is a finality all fear. but a welcoming figure once one comes to draw aching last . a pondering moment ---- mindscape thrumming with retort ----- yet unsure if crown deserves such reply -- ( after all. who can one foolishly inquire the dead without giving respect ). , &&’ HE SPOKE. DESPITE VEXING TONALITY SEEPING WITHIN VISAGE. cadaver rose to full of height / having hunched lightly prior ----- softly. ever so softly does corpse stride forwards ----- resting though arms length way’s ----- rests besides living. a canting of cranium... visage faced that of moonlight ----- for it is a comfort. &’ in silent moment does cohort of death speak. so achingly haunting ---- so soft. a straining of self must exhalt do, to hear what ungodly being speaks for in mothering tonality..