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kolduns · 3 years ago

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❛ МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ПАУК, ❜ FROM THE GARDEN OF DEATH ( limbo, purgatory: the land made of screams of pain and terror ) THE COLD REMEMBRANCE OF A GIRL LED ASTRAY. perhaps never a member of god’s holy flock, perhaps a soul bedeviled from the start. her words fall easily from her lips [ unaged by a near-century of peaceful bodily decay ] * && that almost terrifies her. under this weeping willow lays the corpse of a witch. she had never been one for these melancholic affections ( ... ) hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. but it’s so easy: to reach with the hand of something that should’ve remained dead towards his beating heart. pressed tenderly to his cheek, stubbled and rough in the early hours of the morning. this sacrificial lamb, this hero’s martyr.

HOW SELFISH OF THIS THING THAT SHE’D BECOME TO CLAW IT’S WAY INTO HIS ABODE elsewhere too, where someone more pious should lay. a part of her prideful * && scorned at the idea of depending on his charity; another, staring softly at him in quiet worship. but trapped in this state ( rejected by mother and the boy, by father’s favourite son. “ don’t be an idiot, you know the deal you made witch. ” ) of not dead and not alive, too concious of her own body and being, she had no option but to accept. her palms caress his face, oh so softly as if he’d awake at any moment, basking in the warmth that his body radiates from under the covers: in the shine of his brown hair under the morning light creeping throuh the blinds.

her skin is perpetually a dull greyish * && lukewarm, a victim to a bloodless husk. kept warm or cold by the air around them in the room, his arms that welcome her within them. ‘ CHRIST, YOU’RE FREEZING VASY! ’. not that she could feel her own decay, cold beneath her: but the warmth of his body was something sacred, special and that she coveted for herself. pyotr, a plea spoken into his hair [ ... ] soft-spoken in a way that scares her. when had this maiden-like tenderness been born within her? she slips closer, crawling under the sheets with him; beckoned closer by his peacefully sleeping body to enjoy the cloness of skin to skin.

❛ pyotr ... ❜ a smile creeps into the corners of her mouth, a long curtain of dark hair shielding his face from the light: let him sleep longer let him rest till he had his fill. her finger is soft as she traces the line of his nose [ his lips, his cheekbones, a forming bruise awarded to him by his heroism. ] and commit the pretty features to memory. you’re so sweet darling spider of mine. her lips soft when they lay themselves against his sleeping ones * && she moves his limbs to crawl into his embrance.

A CREATURE OF HABIT AND SLUGGISH REFLEXES, vasilisa rests her cold nose against the nape of his neck and inhales the scent of his skin. warm honey and cologne, herbs and paper. entirely and completely peter. entirely and completely hers.

i am home to my heart, @aracnyd.

#aracnyd #hello my dear and beloved other half <3

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mystikah · 3 years ago

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@aracnyd / a glance through the eyes of fate . . .

FIVE CARDS LAY ATOP THE TABLE, THEIR FACES BURIED IN DARK CLOTH, two crossed over one another, two on the side, one above, awakened with a wave of the sorcerer’s hand as the dripping candles sway along with the hum of an unseen breeze. brows furrowing in thought for a second, head inclines, ❝ your past resides with THE CHARIOT that set your course, the headstrong self ruled by determination. do take caution, for many risks are taken here. your present self is, perhaps, a tad too impatient — ❞ strange throws an almost amused glance between the young hero and the card : TEMPERANCE, REVERSED. ❝ trust that you’re on the path destiny has tailored for you. ❞

❝ the third and fourth cards hold your future — DEATH, but not for you. in the aftermath, an UPRIGHT TOWER evokes a time of upheaval, that is for you. ❞ the sorcerer states, calmly, with necessary detachment. ❝ i have faith you’ll be able to rebuild the foundations of your spirit without losing sight of yourself, you’re strong like that. THE WORLD moves on. you’ll move on, too, with renewed purpose, despite the weight of these burdens. ❞

#aracnyd #( script ) ⊰ this dark is deep / i warm you with my blood.#( arc ) ⊰ we are the way for the cosmos to know itself.#OH....... oh ? 👁#strange vc : i’m sorry but my brand is being vague.

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