wxrstpies-archive reblogged
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
probably going to archive this blog and start anew.
❛ ’m not in the mood righ’ now… ❜
⊰ ♡ ⊱ ——- ；❝ Y’ ain’ neva’ i’ the bloody mood, mista’ T, bu’ ‘at ain’t gon’ stop me from tryin’. ❞
Your secrets are my secrets; your demons, my demons. You will never have to fight them alone. I promise
(via w-allflow-er)
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
No, there’s no place like London.
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
bye bye blackbird // diana krall
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
╳ ๔є๓๏ภ ๒คг๒єг ╳
He hears the sigh of sheets as she shifts around, seemingly ceaselessly. He is cold, and as always, she is his warmth. He feels her nails resting in; she is soft and gentle, but they feel like TALONS none the less.
He is not a pet to be domesticated.
She had lain with a wolf, not a dog.
In all of the English language, he cannot think of a phrase that could have disgusted him more. He hates it; that vulnerable and exposing weakness that she obviously hasn’t missed. He had not wanted her to see that. He is too proud and too WEAK. He growls, low rumbling deep from his chest, and hoists himself to sit through sheer force of will. Then, he lets his cold, narrow feet rest on the floor, and turns his knotted, scarred back to her. Blemishes that are private and brutal and sensitive; a perfect portrait of his mindpainted on his back. He says nothing, but this threat to leave is merely that; a t h r e a t . A bluff. He really is too weak, too SICKLY to leave. Australia had drank his organs, and the other parts of his waning, stained, moon coloured body had all been fodder for razors, carved up and served like an animal to a dark & hungry god of (( REVENGE ))
The absence of flesh as the barber lurches
away from her caress brings a coldness upon
her bodice, clad only by the thin fabric of sheet
he has cast from him. For there is a noise
welling in her throat now, from the deepest, most
hollow pit in her gut that threatened
to burst & SHRIEK from her.
⊰ ♡ ⊱ ——- ；❝ Don't, ❞
The singular word is exerted from her
in a whoosh of escaped breath.. it is
nearly a whimper. The word plagues her
tongue like the finest poison -- a drop of
cyanide produced from her vocal chords
to breed bitterness through the rest of her physicality.
Vapor from the fumes as it melts through her
core rises to her mind, clouding already clouded thoughts.
To her, the sound of bare feet slapping gingerly
against the floor signified his absence. This
barrenness settles heavily upon her soul,
bringing her frail body to seemingly grow
smaller against the heavy atmosphere. The
woman swallows thickly, narrow body turning
away from his form; decorated with scars like
paint upon a blank canvas of pale skin.
His artist was CRUEL, but perhaps
hardly as cruel as this. The feeling of
dried sweat brings a heaviness to her
skin; and the smell of sex that clings
desperately unto the molecules of the air
has now begun to fade into the
desperate longings of a woman -- the
darkness of despondency.
for the wolf has claimed his pound of flesh.
& she has nothing left for him to gnaw upon but RAWNESS.
wxrstpies-archive reblogged
❝ I agree, luv, it’s good to see you. ❞
Smile never faltering, Jack strolled over to the table and took a seat, lifting his hat from his head and setting it down. He nodded his thanks as she placed the mug of ale in front of him, slightly disappointed it wasn’t rum but, parched after his long walk from the docks, he put it to his lips anyway and took a long sip.
❝ Nothing’s changed there, then. What about you? The shop still doing well, I take it? ❞
⊰ ♡ ⊱ ——- ；❝ Doin' well as kin be, given the circumstances. ❞ The people of London -- particularly this area -- had fallen into a profound financial ruin. Upon digging their claws into the soil of stability, it seemed they were only skilled in making their pit larger. This was no secret, she presumed. Particularly to pirates. ⊰ ♡ ⊱ ——- ；❝ As fo' me, 'm jus' doin wot me kin t' ge' by.. Doin' righ' well as 'a late i' tha' manna'. Bu' wot abou' ye, Jackie? Go' t'apologize again fo' me lack of spirits. ❞