ᴴᴱᴸᴸᴮᴼᴿᴺ ⁽♆⁾ HIATUS

ZWEI. @synthesiiized  /  @inflamcd   /  @thetiniestlang  /  @indecorcus  /  @shadcwpreacher  /  @perilist  /  @atonedsins  /  @loschen  /  @redsabcr  /  @rapierone  /  @umbrathea  /  @quiksilverfast  /  @clawinkitten  /  @whoslaughin  /  @cityinferno  /  @weided  /  @noctisiism  /  @lighttempted  /  @ourburden  /  @terrarise  /  @mcgnetic  /  @heartrendcr  /  @awokenapocalypse  /  @burnsthrough  /  @metalliferousx  /  @elemcntalism  /  @dushavor  /  @mcsche  /  @fcst  /  @xmarksthescott  /  @thirdlight  /  @unleashcd  / @avepravus  /  @magicxecustos  /  @ruinaa  /  @nottheteamsociopath

               ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇᴀᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴜsᴛ ᴄʀᴏᴘ ‘ᴄᴜs ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴ

they  left  her  to  decay  in  the  PIT  OF  DEATH,      watching  her  flesh  deteriorate  into  flowers  that  BLOOM  with  beauty.      they  stare  :  looking  at  what  they  think  to  be  VAPID  sprouts,      only  to  witness  the  dying  corpse  of  a  celestial  body  WANISH  into  a  garden  of  pulchritude.       ❪    est.      march  1st.      reboot.      may  27th.      /  /  portrayed  by  marsh.    ❫

William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905)

“I’m the one who’s going to chop your dick off, and glue it to your forehead so you’ll be the limp dick unicorn, thats who the fuck I am…But you can call me Thyrius…”

an innocent smileth spreads across her lips,  and thither is a subtle glimmer  in   her pupil,  ere  she looks hence, shyly. she wast not the  prettiest, at least not in her mind. the lass wast far  too whey- faced, or so they’d say. eyes squinched, thomasin examines thyrius closely. his ragged features, and not restful lids. she doest not respond for a minute. ‘ what about thee? thee  art  not  only madeth of                                                                     flesh.’                                                thomasin whispers. ‘                                                           i feeleth t. ’ the one handeth that wast not gripping his wrist, softly  touches the skin  beneath  his  eye.  wast touching too much. surely, if 't be true somebody hath  found  out about this, she'd beest lynched. 

🔪🔪🔪

                          IND. SEL. WITCH OC                           WRITTEN BY KELLS.

“I’m the one who’s going to chop your dick off, and glue it to your forehead so you’ll be the limp dick unicorn, thats who the fuck I am…But you can call me Thyrius…”

an innocent smileth spreads across her lips,  and thither is a subtle glimmer  in   her pupil,  ere  she looks hence, shyly. she wast not the  prettiest, at least not in her mind. the lass wast far  too whey- faced, or so they’d say. eyes squinched, thomasin examines thyrius closely. his ragged features, and not restful lids. she doest not respond for a minute. ‘ what about thee? thee  art  not  only madeth of                                                                     flesh.’                                                thomasin whispers. ‘                                                           i feeleth t. ’ the one handeth that wast not gripping his wrist, softly  touches the skin  beneath  his  eye.  wast touching too much. surely, if 't be true somebody hath  found  out about this, she'd beest lynched. 

“You admire carnage? Is this said to please me?” A brow arcs “Do I look pleased?”

cue a bittersweet smirk. her small hand curls into  a  fist,  softly  she presses  it below her chin. ‘                                 and i love you. ’   

“I’m the one who’s going to chop your dick off, and glue it to your forehead so you’ll be the limp dick unicorn, thats who the fuck I am…But you can call me Thyrius…”

‘ thither is no needeth to yell, mine lord. thee truly                    seemeth like one scandalous wench. ’ the sweet bloom’s voice hushed,  eyebrows hath raised  in sudden  annoyance.  thomasin’s  small, whey, pale  hand gripped thyrius wrist kindly. that lady touch wast  fragile, as the lady  wast nothing but a blossoming deb. ‘ i  has’t  cometh  from  england.   peradventure tis that that hath both   of us troubled ?   the  tongue i speaketh, is far from foreign whither i cometh from. tis thy odd dialect that hath me abashed. wherefore                                                           art thou from? ’

“I’m the one who’s going to chop your dick off, and glue it to your forehead so you’ll be the limp dick unicorn, thats who the fuck I am…But you can call me Thyrius…”

the tender bloom’s eyes now gazing  upwards, for twas  very  true  that  she  wast  quite small &  that  gent  wast  considerably taller than her.