clean slate.

[tcnace-deactivated20160615]

THEY THREW HER INTO THE FLAMES AND LAUGHED THINKING SHE WOULD BURN ALIVE. IMAGINE HOW THEY TREMBLED WHEN SHE ROSE FROM THEM INSTEAD. NOT A GIRL; BUT A DRAGON.                  SOMETIMES THE FIRE CLEANSES | SOMETIMES THE FIRE DESTROYS.

[wailist]

i've really lost muse for lydia the past few weeks and I don't see her coming back anytime soon so i've been working on a new muse and i'll be sure to leave links for her over here soon.

[cutie-stiles-deactivated2019061]

hs yearbook meme : tw + best dressed - Lydia Martin →requested by @martinskidetectives​

[fyeslydiamartin]

[fyeslydiamartin]

requested by anonymous: lydia + protecting people

[warkilled-deactivated20170206]

                                        i trust your garden was willing to die - i do not think that                                               mine was - it perished with beautiful reluctance

                                                      ind. allison argent / written by mars.

[wailist]

.

[teenwolf]

OMG WHAT IS HAPPENING? 

[wailist]

i've been absent a lot because i’m a sick egg and it’s been kicking my butt, but I am returning once again and i have started creating a new blog, too which i’m super excited about.

[wailist]

[vikanderalicia-deactivated20200]

“I can’t just turn this on. I’m not like you guys. I don’t have claws or glowing eyes or super senses, I just have voices inside my head.”

[wailist]

i'm probably going to be spending my night doing icons for my son; and also will be  there tomorrow.

[wailist]

STILES:

                                        the softest of sighs tilts in the air, silence BROKEN only by the sound of marker moving across a glass board. letters drawn soon become WORDS, which lead to sentences, to patterns. seemingly meaningless, he HOPES only to see them make sense. stepping back, AMBER eyes survey his work, searching for some sense or REASON to the latest catastrophe. only at her ENTRANCE do eyes look up, entranced for a moment, before he turns back to his work.               “ what do you think ?   i’ve been at it for DAYS, trying to figure it out. but i just… i have NOTHING. “

@wailist is voided.

         burnt hues flash with a peaked interest, the boy; tired in stance draws her attention, contemplation     sitting in the CREASE between her brows, the board was evident with workings ( scribbles, lines,     dashes) all MOULDING into a blur of thoughts. it’s a faint pool of worry spills into her complexion,      he was burdened with the knowledge; & the NEED to know the cause. ❛ -- you look like you haven’t     slept for a couple of days. but it’s something; how about you take a break? ❜

[wailist]

???:

wailist

                                 "No offence, but uh– you don’t look nothin'                                   like a banshee or a wailin’ woman or whatever.                                  Shouldn’t you be more, y'know, freaky and                                  ghost-like or somethin’?“

          milk white flesh pales at the curling of lithe fingers, knuckles dusting the odd shade        of alabaster. an interested expression wears comfortably before her head INCLINES        slightly. ❛ why would I be freaky or ghost-like? ❜ 

[wailist]

me: i should do replies. lydia: nah.

[voiidstuff-deactivated20161107]

beneath sallow eyes, SHADOWS dark as coal emerge. they speak of voided plains, of a childhood ended before it’s begun. WHO NEEDS TO BE HAPPY ?   bred for survival, you walk, a CATALYST in the night, a CATASTROPHE of a boy. rot drawn from your lungs, you speak of RIDDLES, of open doors. YOU TRADED YOUR BAT FOR A WRENCH, bloody && cold. swing it hard, feel the bone SHATTER, the marrow SPILL. murderer. guilt WEIGHS heavy, a dark stain over your heart. WHO NEEDS TO BE HAPPY ?   you traded your bat for a wrench, YOUR INNOCENCE FOR CRIMSON STAIN. blood coats alabaster fingertips, nevermore to wash clean.

[irlhoundoom-blog1]

the feeling of the ground RUMBLES as if an earthquake is shaking the world. it is you, soldier, who shakes the ground, splits it open, and fire flows forth in your w a k e. you are a beast, you are a demon, you are a protector of all. you come when you are needed, resting in slumber, silently observing and guarding until your ferocity is needed. a hellhound, a monster, a war is your destiny - one you will win. | graphic credit