#m0urtes

[movedirreparabiles]

     a  chuckle  breaks  out  of  her,  tongue  clicking  against  her  teeth.  ❝  aw,  s.  this  is  no  way  to  greet  an  old  friend.  ❞  she  mumbles,  taking  a  step  closer  to  the  blonde.  ❝  you  know  how  i  get  when  my  feelings  are  hurt.  ❞

@m0urtes​​.

[story1ines]

@m0urtes asked:  “i know I haven’t been what you needed, but i’m here, and i wanna help.” : /  nate for blair.

things weren’t right for blair     &     nate for a long time now.     it didn’t even have to do with him sleeping with her best friend.     blair just realized that nate didn’t love her.     he was only staying with her because of their parents.     &     that wasn’t a relationship that blair intended on keeping.     she wanted to be with someone that loved her unconditionally     &     that wanted to always be with her.     &     when they weren’t,     that they would miss her.     but now,     nate had offered to be there for her as her friend.     at least that’s what it sounded like.      ❛❛     you have no idea how long i have been wanting to hear that, nate.     but i don’t want you to feel pressured like you have to.     even though it is kind of nice to hear.     ❜❜

[whistledowners]

       kate  knew  he  was  right,  but  that  did  not  make  it  any  easier  for  her  to  be  away  from  him.  it  seemed  as  though  regardless  of  how  hard  kate  tried,  she  still  found  herself  alone  and  in  @m0urtes​‘  presence.  nodding  quietly,  the  raven-haired  woman  let  out  a  breath.  ❝  i  know.  ❞  it  was  not  much  like  kathani  sharma  to  agree  with  anthony  bridgerton,  but  he  was  right.  the  two  of  them  should  definitely  not  be  seen  together.  and  yet...  it  was  the  only  moment  she  managed  to  breathe.

          she  took  yet  another  breath,  shaking  her  head  to  recompose  herself  and  face  a  world  where  they  could  never  even  talk.  ❝  i  shall  leave  you  alone  to  your  thoughts,  my  lord.  ❞  she  whispered  quietly,  though  the  woman  did  not  so  much  as  move  an  inch.  

[ivygroved]

ＧＡＺＥ　　ＲＥＭＡＩＮＳ　　ＷＡＲＹ　　ＡＳ　　ＴＨＥ　　ＯＴＨＥＲ　　ＡＰＰＲＯＡＣＨＥＳ            ❀✿❀            the painfully familiar feeling twists in her gut ,      laughs at her with a biting smile ,      threatens everything that she had built for herself over the years :      she was supposed to have evolved past the fear ,      past all humanly emotions that had made her weak over the years .      pamela isley was nothing more than a weak woman ,      defined by the men in her life ,      but poison ivy was an ethereal being ,      a pillar of strength and confidence            ------------            she refused to let herself appear weak ,      even in the eyes of a man whose powers are the perfect counter to her own .      teeth chew at the inside of her cheek until she can taste the earth’s ichor on her tongue ,      forced smile finds its way to expression before legs cross and figure leans forward .

❝      what exactly can i do for you ,      @m0urtes ?      ❞                                    she knew relatively little about the man that stood before her ,      could focus on nothing but the wary paranoia of the plants that surrounded her ,      could feel the horror flood through her senses and settle in the pit of her stomach .      there’s too much history of fire torturing nature for her to feel comfortable in his presence ,      too many memories from her own life ,      but ivy refuses to let the trivial emotions of her humanity suppress her divinity            (   she forces herself to remember that fire has also helped nature in many ways ,      has allowed soil to become more fertile ,      has offered place for new life to grow   ) .                                    ❝      i must say ,      skye ,      i was surprised when i heard you wanted to meet .      i never imagined us …      meshing well .      ❞

↻      liked

[foxenhund]

despite the many vanities that became sherlock holmes,   orderliness was not one of his virtues   :      the flat he shared with his dear watson was often in disarray,    with chemical experiments resting on the fireplace,   in the sink,   in the fridge,   on the kitchen side    ...    and that was saying nothing of the bullet wounds that punctured the side of a wall,   which added nothing to the atmosphere or the cleanliness of their home     (     but sherlock’s boredom was a blinding creature     --       he could not look beyond the alleviation of it when it struck him cold     ).       watson had often encouraged him into cleaning,   but sherlock felt the eclectic surroundings gave their clients an idea of what they were getting into    ...     march brought some such nagging from john.    sherlock sat neatly on the ground,   surrounded by papers filled with old cases,   lighting a match to each and everyone of them.     they burned with alarming quickness,   which made sherlock blow a little on the burnt skin of his fingertips.          ‘‘    there is nothing worth saving that i have not committed to memory,   ’’      sherlock interrupts,   which is remarkably hard to do when watson started on his rants.       ‘‘   besides,   you’ll find these papers disordered,  anyway.    they were before my dear biographer took up residence.   ’’         @m0urtes​

[srvial]

@m0urtes​   +   𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 .

it’s always been a world where powers matter .   thought her mom and dad was on the right side of things ,   but she had a rude wakeup call when she realized that was far from the truth .   hurt people just like them ,   like herself .   they were no different   &   after running away and learning more ,   it’s sickening how she was so blind .   and sometimes she’ll see her mom’s face on the tv or hear her voice over the radio     .  .  .     and it’s enough to trigger something .   wish she could stop it ,   but coming out here helps .   the cold wind and dark forest ,   the silence that follows .      

❝   it’s rude to be lurking .   ❞      sitting by the lake ,   skipping ricks across the surface   &   she could sense someone close .   couldn’t tell who ,   but there is something in the way vibrations change .   sense him without really trying ,   like it’s becoming part of how she works .     ❝   or so i’m told .   ❞

[voidbeings-a]

“ i think i’m losing myself again. ” —   from eleanor   @m0urtes​

physical hand holds loosely onto a noncorporeal arm, right at the crook behind her elbow. the darkling wonders how long its been since she’s felt touch, or been seen by someone who isn’t terrified of her. death surrounds him and has since he was a boy, there’s nothing to fear from something he knows cannot touch him. figures, distant and near, focused and unclear, haunt him as steadily as he breathes   ...   the difference between a ghost and demon is stark. she is a lost soul, not a malevolent one.

damien’s hand slides down the length of a forearm, fingertips brushing gently over the top of her hand before it falls down to his side and he takes a step back.

❛❛   if you can’t hold on, ‘nell   ...   it’s okay. i’ll wait for you to come back.   ❜❜          for such a monster, his voice is surprisingly tender. eyes bright and clear, he hopes his intent is obvious. he means it. but spirits sometimes cannot see or understand as clearly as they once did, this mortal realm means very little after a time. it is a passing wind.          ❛❛   let go. don’t be scared. i’ll be right here, i promise.   ❜❜

[archibqld]

‘ it’s easy! just stand there and look pretty. ’    /    @m0urtes​  .

         “  that’s easy for you to say ...  ”      stress wasn’t a normal feeling for the taller of the two.        he was never stressed or nervous for anything,     so what is the big deal here?        he’d been dressed in all black,     minus the white dress shirt under the suit jacket.        bowtie pointed.      

      homecoming king was his,      he knew that.      & so did gretchen,     but that should lessen the stress he’d felt the whole night.      if anything it made it worse.       “  ohmygosh ...    why did i agree to this.  ”               /              accepting.

[movedirreparabiles]

   send  a  📸  to  see  four  pictures  that  becky  has  or  has  taken  of  braden  (  @m0urtes  )

[whistledowners]

      there  are  no  words  to  describe  how  vexing  he  is.  not  in  the  english  vocabulary,  certainly  not  in  any  language  that  kate  knows  -  and  believe  her,  she  knows  plenty.  there  is  something  about  his  posture  and  the  way  he  finds  himself  to  be  better  than  her  (  the  fact  @m0urtes​  thinks  he  may  boss  her  around.  )  it  is...  aggravating.  and  it  brings  something  out  of  kate  that  insists  on  going  against  his  every  word.  should  the  viscount  say  go  right,  she  would  go  left.  should  he  say  it  ought  to  rain,  she  shall  go  out  to  promenade  without  an  umbrella.  his  order  for  her  to  leave?  no  exception  in  the  slightest.  

         letting  out  a  sharp  breath,  the  raven-haired  woman  does  not  so  much  as  move  a  muscle.  ❝  and  what  makes  you  think  i  shall  listen  to  your  orders,  lord  bridgerton?�� ❞  she  hisses,  fighting  the  urge  to  wrap  her  arms  across  her  chest  much  like  a  petulant  child.  ❝  if  you  are  so  bothered,  perhaps  it  is  you  who  shall  leave  as  i  have  no  intentions  whatsoever  of  leaving  this  library  any  time  soon.  ❞

[srvial]

🐆

random pairings <3

nick scratch & lilly burrell . kat hernandez & clementine kershaw . tanya denali & sif . persephone & carmen de leon .

[voidbeings-a]

“ i don’t like that look, what happened? ” —   from skye   @m0urtes​

the look skye refers to is blank and expressionless. gabriel has just absorbed a vast amount of information stolen from someone’s head, it is taking a lot of energy to process everything.

❛❛   can you keep a secret, skye?   ❜❜          he utters. vigilante-ism is highly frowned upon by both of his parents, but he inherits the sins of his fathers, doesn’t he? and their responsibility. they passed the mantle to him long before they knew they did. gabe may be scrawny but he is the son of two gods: benevolence and violence. he in and of himself is a titan and cannot be stopped. a wry, lopsided smile presses over pink lips, pale eyes fluttering down to his dirty, well - loved sneakers.

❛❛   i’m gonna be in so much trouble when my dads find out, but   —   i stopped something bad from happening today. it just took a lot out of me. i’m fine. some stranger is too, now, and she’ll never even know something terrible might’ve happened to her. i’d call that a success, right?   ❜❜

[movedirreparabiles]

      you  pause  for  a  second,  panic  blurring  your  vision.  suddenly,  you  can  feel  the  alcohol’s  effects  fade  away.  sobriety  washes  over  you  and  you  know  exactly  why.  next  time.  nate  thinks  you  will  do  it  again.  lips  part  quietly  and  you  are  quick  to  push  him  away.  a  name  echoes  in  your  head.  blair,  blair,  blair.  how  can  you  look  at  her  again  after  this?  how  can  he  even  think  of  doing  this  again?  you  get  up,  confusion  settling  in  your  features  as  you  look  for  your  dress.  then  tears  roll  down  your  cheeks  and  you  just  know  you  screwed  up.

      ❝  next  time?  ❞  you  whisper,  turning  around  grabbing  his  shirt  to  put  on.  ❝  there  won’t  be  a  next  time,  @m0urtes​.  i  just-  this  was  a  mistake.  i-  we  can’t  do  this  again.  blair...  ❞  you  stop,  pausing  for  a  second  before  grabbing  your  heels.  ❝  let’s  just...  forget  this.  we  shouldn’t  have.  i  have  to  go.  ❞

[whistledowners]

        chiara  steps  away  from  @m0urtes​,  confusion  settling  in  her  features.  she  does  not  know  much  about  the  featheringtons,  seeing  as  she  has  just  arrived  in  town,  but  she  knows  enough.  lord  featherington  had  died,  one  of  the  sisters  was  engaged,  they  often  wore  hideous  colors  -  the  very  proof  of  that  being  in  front  of  her.  however,  chiara  could  not  possibly  fathom  the  thought  that  she  was  anything  like  lady  penelope  featherington.  starting  with  the  fact  she  was  not  part  of  the  high  society  which  penelope  belonged  to.

         ❝  pardon  me?  ❞  the  woman  inquires,  head  tilting  to  the  side  as  her  gaze  drifts  to  the  fabric  in  her  hands.  ❝  i  believe  we  could  not  be  more  different,  lady  featherington.  the  only  thing  we  might  have  in  common  is  the  fact  we  are  both  women,  i  am  afraid.  ❞

[movedirreparabiles]

       never?  no.  he  could  not  possibly  believe  that.  had  @m0urtes​  forgotten  all  those  times  she  was  pouring  her  heart  out  for  him?  all  those  times  she  shared  more  about  her  life  with  him  than  anyone  else?  was  he  delusional?  or  did  he  just  not  believe  anything?  alicia  knew  she  was  not  innocent  in  all  this.  she  was  the  one  who  had  asked  for  things  to  be  a  secret  between  them,  she  was  the  one  who  could  not  find  it  in  her  to  show  the  world  they  were  together.  but  there  were  reasons  and  a  timeline  and...  she  forced  herself  to  stop  thinking.

        ❝  if  you  really  think  that  then  why  the  hell  are  you  here,  trevor?  ❞  she  asked,  bitterness  rolling  off  her  tongue  with  a  dash  of  ill-intent.  if  he  was  about  to  hurt  her,  why  should  she  not  hurt  him  back?

[movedirreparabiles]

      mocha  hues  fall  shut  for  a  second,  frustrated  sigh  breaking  out  of  her.  audrey  looks  at  him  then,  teeth  sinking  down  onto  her  bottom  lip.  truth?  she  wants  to  scream.  max  is  always  like  that,  avoiding  the  serious  conversations.  but  she  does  understand  why  he  might  need  time.  not  that  it  diminishes  how  concern  she  is  about  him.  ❝  fine,  max.  whatever  you  want.  ❞  she  hisses,  eyes  rolling  as  her  book  is  closed  with  extra  strength.

“can  we  just  table  this  conversation?”  from  max  wolfe  (  @m0urtes​  )