WINTER SENTINEL.XVIII.II.MMXIX. by OrphnĂŠ AchĂŠron.
pencil, ink and gold.

Kiana Khansmith

if i look back, i am lost

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation

tannertan36
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz

Love Begins
Misplaced Lens Cap
tumblr dot com
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

oozey mess
YOU ARE THE REASON

blake kathryn
we're not kids anymore.

@theartofmadeline
Today's Document
Jules of Nature
RMH

pixel skylines
Sweet Seals For You, Always
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands

seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from Romania
seen from United States
seen from TĂźrkiye

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from New Zealand

seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from South Africa
seen from United Kingdom
@columbadei
WINTER SENTINEL.XVIII.II.MMXIX. by OrphnĂŠ AchĂŠron.
pencil, ink and gold.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
in the end
      đ¸Â ARAEL.
WHEN: Memoriam of the First Twilight WHO: closed for @columbadei
They say the worst form of loss is the one that continues to live. Death is supposed to give finality, though Arael would argue she didnât receive that with Uriel, but the living forms of loss will continue to plague someone. That sense of unrest came to Arael as she watched Azazel from her position in the crowd. The hints of betrayal dance below her features as a variety of memories flick through her mind of the pair.
The first came in a visage of white. Arael had tucked herself at the edge of Heavenâs reach in the hopes that one day sheâd be able to unshackle herself from its grasp and be back among the stars. That fatal dose of melancholy weighed her down as she stared off into the abyss before she was greeted by an angel that also felt pulled to the edge. No smiles were exchanged that day, but a quiet understanding formed between the pair.
The second came in a cloud of smoke. Arael wandering back to that corner week after week in a quiet hope that her companion, her first friend, would be waiting there for her. It had been strange to feel a spark of life surge through her, but it had nestled into her heart like the beloved angel that laid beside it. The two would wander the edge, hover between Heaven and the unknown, before quietly disappearing back to the others.
The last came in a host of flames. Arael was no stranger to anger. she had first felt the feeling when she realized what she had become and what was stripped away from her in the process. She had even grown to find comfort in that feeling. To feel that anger blanketing her as she learned that Azazel had abandoned her for Hell still travels with her as she looks upon the demonâs present day form.
Arael didnât know when she had wound up next to the demon, but she felt herself drawn to their form as the two once-companions stood next to each other. Anger and hurt were glimpsed behind her familiar icy visage as she allowed herself to examine the demonâs wingsâ or the ghostly frame that now occupied the space. Her voice was quiet but form as she shattered the silence.
âAzazel.âÂ
This Memoriam of the First Twilight is a sequence of offeringsâjust as the sacrificial animal is rent apart, so too does it give unto others. That is the nature of death: it is a cycle. Light rolls between the templeâs pillars, moving as a snake does when it tosses about on its belly; it passes nervously between the gaps of Azazelâs fingers, deathly afraid of being unpeeled by her shadows. Azazel unloads a bank of crystallis into a bowing hand. Walk in harmony, she commands. As she turns, one is reminded of the pink lips of Eve, reaching up to greet the serpentâs mouth.
Before she can spin on her heel to meet the gaze of her next visitant, she is greeted instead by something far too familiar for comfort: that look of contempt, a scorned carriage of indifference. Cold and brittle anger, pumping like blood beneath the flesh.
âArael,â she says, dulcet-smooth, with the look of a woman who is not disturbed by the harsh memory placed before her. Arael, she says, with intoxication on her tongue, the sting of sulphur lingering just beneath it.
They had been friends once; but that was many aeons ago. Stealing away from Godâs righteous angels, fleeing from the Creatorâs custodians of self-worship, running bare foot in the heavenly lands in search of pestilence and decayâthose days are gone. As if children, they had their legs off the edge of their shared cloud, bartering there with confessions, stealing secrets from the otherâs ribs. Azazel wonders what secrets Arael has buried within herself now. She wonders what she might have been had she fastened herself to Heaven, to her beloved Arael, her ankles bound there like metal chains.
She might have sat on that cloud with Arael for all eternity.
Persephone bites into the fruit, its juices spilling down her chin. She becomes. And then, like a chill that slides down your spine, she recoils.
âTime has not changed you, I see.â Is that not the nature of time for such creatures? Time, that everlasting cloud that hangs heavily overhead, waits silently, sits still. The immortal is everlasting: what is time, pray, for indelible marks; for things that do not fade?Â
And yet, time has changed Azazel. She is Godâs great alchemical transmutation: what had once been lead is now changed into gold. Standing before Arael now, Azazel appears at once precisely as she has always been, yet is marked beyond belief. âStill keeping to your hidden corners. Still alone.â
âthe jasmine is a water without blood, and the girl a nocturnal branch across the pavement, infinitely dark.â
â Federico GarcĂa Lorca, Qasida of the Dream of Open Air (via lesgardenias)
fendi hc ss21

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
     đ¸Â JUDAS.
date: late in the first week of the new moon location: tridium temples, azazelâs private quarters closed for @columbadei
A man was dead. Not simply a man, a leader, and a beloved one at that, Judas needed remind himself â and he needed remind himself often, for what ever could a mortal with a garden-variety heart and no tooth or nail ever be but a simple man? It didnât matter; being greater wouldâve made him no less dead. In his deadness, Judas reasoned, Cador now had all the time of an immortal â a gift, some would argue; thus, heâd surely feel no ill will towards Judas for spending his first first moments in the Holy Land not paying respects to the departed, or consoling those whoâd held Cador dearest, but paying due tribute to his moon.
Great black feathered wings folded tired on his shoulders, he approaches the doors to Azazelâs private chambers. While the majority of his things remained in tow with the outstanding caravans, but few objects of value had made the journey at Judasâs hip to ensure safekeeping. Amongst them, he holds a circlet â platinum, encrusted in ancient opal and diamond, a relic said to have been plucked from the brow of a slain angel whoâd cried as they fell for a God who could hear no more prayers. It weighs comfortably in his pocket, nested safe in a velvet-cushioned wooden box, primed to be presented to Hellâs crown princess herself. In sixty years of diplomacy with the Holy Land, heâd never been fool enough to arrive at Azazelâs temple without tribute. Heâd be twice the fool if he allowed the proceedings of a humdrum mortalâs funeral to stop him from doing so this time.
Sheâd have been his first stop either way, gift in hand.. peculiar circumstances, or not. Years in the art of diplomacy brought many invaluable lessons; amongst them, a cornerstone â the people cannot be trusted with the whole truth. It falls to the skilled lips of the politician to reveal and omit, to shape a truth the people can embrace. That, it seemed, Azazel had learned well. The story she and Gabriel told of the Starsâ fall was folded crisply at its edges, trimmed in ivory lace, topped with the curl of a ribbon â a politicianâs expertly-woven tapestry. This was not all there was to know. The air in the temples hung just a breath too heavy on his shoulders for this to be the truth of all truths. Behind private walls, surely, sheâd throw the fantasy to the wind and brief him as if he, too, governed alongside the Sun and Moon. That was why she was there. He neednât remind her.
He knocks twice, and announces himself with a loud, deliberate calling of âAzazel,â before he inches the door forwards and lets himself in, as if the authority instilled in him by his kingdom simply transcends jurisdiction â as if he can come and go inside the Tridiumâs temples with the very same authority as the ruler he visits. (Ruler. Itâs an endearing honorific on Azazel, and it fits just about as well as a child playing pretend, insisting on being addressed as Doctor as they don their dress-up gloves. It makes her smile, though, and keeps her loyal, so who does it harm to play a little pretend?) He greets her with a warm gaze and a wide embrace, body still in aches from the journey, but a practiced smile of wonder and awe ready for her all the same. As he pulls away, one hand settles on her slender shoulder and with a light turn, he meets her eyes. âAzazel,â he repeats, and this time, he sees her. âHow Iâve missed you. By whose divine hand do you grow more beautiful each time we part?â A hand dips from his side into his pocket, pulling the dark wooden box from his cloak and presenting it to her. âFor you,â he nods, with an upwards tug of his lips. âI can imagine its beauty on no one but Infernumâs pride.â
A veil of black silk, spun like the diaphanous web of a spider, still falls demurely over her eyes, and Fenrir, her monstrous companion, rests his white jaw at her knee. She runs her fingers distantly through his fur, her attention curiously captured not by the sharpened teeth of a beast breathing at her side, but by the display now arranging itself at the foot of the Temple. Azazel leans forward in her chaise to get a closer look. Upon tighter examination, she learns it is nothing out of the ordinary: a drove of mortals lamenting the loss of the Stars; Cador, who had faded abruptly, and quite inexplicably, from the black blanket of the sky. Nevertheless, she watches on perplexed as they begin to arrange themselves around the keystone, bowing their heads in supplication as if worshipping beneath ancient altars. Azazel smiles wryly as they begin to invoke Cadorâs name, spoken with the faith of a man who believes in the holy powers of enchantments and blessings, cupping the candlelight in their hopelessly temporary hands. They turn themselves into sculptors, carving out mournful elegies with their scalpel-like tongues, and they do so with such ferocity that Azazel wonders for a moment if Cador might peer down from the next world to lend his ear and listen.
They wash over his fleshless, departed soul with love of the earth.
How strange.
She is not a creature that has ever been forced to acquaint herself with the feeling of having something taken from herâtrue enough, circumstance had willed it so more than a hundred centuries ago. No. Her decadence is a tomb, and she has always been perfectly content to lay herself to rest there.
She watches the pallbearers with distant curiosity, yet feels no desire to know their loss. How fortunate, then, that she has something to distract her.
Cador was dead, by somebody elseâs hand. That was an important distinction; one that separated the esteemed Sun and Moon from the scores of civilians, already taking to the streets to grieve. It was a secret they had mutually agreed to hide away, tucked away into the shadows like a loose thread at the end of a sleeve. Buried beneath the shadows.
But do not things grow in the dark? Hadnât she?
As if roused by that thought alone, she is stirred by a gentle rap at the door. Then, a word. A name. Azazel. She knows well who hides behind the door long before he swings it open; she thinks she understands why he has come. Azazel uncrosses her legs and rises from her chaise, careful not to disturb Fenrirâs half-slumber, before making her way towards him, her movements the very image of sumptuous polish. âJudas,â she mimics, entirely unsurprised by his familiarity, the word like velvet in her mouth. She softens at the sight of him, as a child does when it sees its mother, and then by some frightening twist of nature she smiles wickedly, her eyes darkening in such a way that they never do in the company of any beast but the Great Betrayer. âBy whose divine hand? Why, my own. But of course, who else is more divine?â She offers Judas a swordplay of her own. âAre you so intimately involved with your own schemes that you cannot sniff out the ploys of others? I must make artifices of my own, no?â
She settles herself back on the chaise, patting gently at the space beside her, inviting Judas to sit beside Fenrir. She continues: âI must, else you might leave me here, alone. You might forget me, leave me to become unimportant; unloved. I wouldnât like that.â She chooses to play the role of a neglected child, spoiled by her pampering, ruined by her indulgence. It is not a role she plays particularly convincingly. Who could forget Azazel; the Dove of God, the Cherub of Hell, Judasâs own arcane shadow? There is so much of her in him, and so much of him in herâneither one of them can look in a mirror without being reminded of the other. âNo, I am only being foolish. You could never forget me.â It is a statement that refuses to beg for assurance. There are no illusions.
It is then that he retrieves the dark wooden box from his pocket, and even before Azazel lays her eyes upon its contents, her throat hums in appreciation. Even before she can pray witness to its beauty, she has forgotten his designs in coming here. She flicks open the box and her eyes glow like two infernal embers, illuminated by the beauty of such a thing. Ancient and primal. Shiny, like satin. Of course, she cares nothing for the myth affixed to the circlet, cares nothing for the bloodied angel who might have passed on with prayer attached to their lips. All she cares for are the jewels fixed at its centre, and the way they shimmer against the twilight of her hair. She picks the diadem delicately from the box, smoothing her thumb over the precious stones, before moving toward her looking glass and placing it upon her brow, the mulberry smoke of her wings mirroring her stepâlike phantoms, like ghosts. She smiles contentedly at her own reflection before spinning elegantly on her heel, meeting Judasâs gaze. âIt looks beautiful on me. Doesnât it?â
âNight-born beauty. How sweetly she melts in her sin.â
â FrantiĹĄek Halas, tr. by Stephan Delbos, from âMalĂĄ Strana Night Vision,â (via violentwavesofemotion)
      đ¸Â The light has long ebbed away, but the MEMORIAM OF THE LAST TWILIGHT resists in drawing its carousals of celebration to a close. Azazel has been passed prayerfully between admirers, and while she finds herself worn from the revelry, her belly is not yet full. She alights upon JASPER RICHE as song bleeds from one day to the next.  â  @jasperiche
With the exception of the scent of burnt flesh, it is a night like any other. Hand after hand has reached out to embrace her, fingers creeping wantingly over her shoulders and, like a pebble made smooth by the vicious nursing of the sea, she has been scoured raw, eaten to the bone, made perfectly round. In the festivalâs backwash, it is easy enough for her to forget Gabrielâs words of warning; it is easy enough for their secret, already hidden, to slip from view. The thought that there may well be a killer amongst this sea of celebrants comfortably eludes her; as does the notion that the butcher might touch her with one hand, and wield a knife in the other.
The angels bat their feather wings at her, and she soon forgets Cador; the demons leer darkly up at her, and she ceases to think of the lie she and Gabriel have left in the shadows. The mortals weave their fingers between hers like molten gold fit to a cast, and they whisper their worship. They had been Godâs favourites, once, and now they are hers, splayed at her feet like beggars praying at the foot of an altar.Â
For tonight, however, she is tired of their wheedling and honeyed words. As the sun begins to stir, she seeks something less contrived; less coy. She seeks Jasper Riche, and she finds him standing sullen, sandwiched between celebration and carousal.
She seeks out the one who denies her, who takes great pleasure in belittling herâwho seems to despise her but whose eyes she always feels, following her. He means nothing to her either, but that is not the point: there is nothing particularly special about Jasper, nothing that seduces her, but he pays her no mind, and Azazel can only answer this cruel aberration by paying him every moment of hers. It is her desire to be admired by all, even the impervious, who regard all good cheer with dark scorn, that compels her to approach him now.
She does not wait for him to fill the silence, for she is soundly convinced that he will not. âI will not ask you to dance with me,â Azazel says, petulant, with the tone of a woman who desperately wants to be danced with, âFor I know you would deny me.â She takes her long hair in her hands and holds it there, as if wringing the wet from a towel; then she loosens her grip and lets it go, a river of black billowing down her spine. âEven if I commanded it, I think you would still deny me. That is how committed you are to not giving me what I want, no?â
seemoreandmore:
âKyĹka suigetsu éĄčąć°´ć(Japanese) - An idiom with the literal translation of âflower in the mirror & a moon in the waterâ, and references something which is visible and cannot be touched as well as the profound beauty of poems that cannot be described in words.â
They are a singular thought spoken in a multitude of voices. They are K

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
KISSINGÂ MEMEÂ PROMPTS:
kiss prompts for starters and/or drabbles.  feel  free  to  make  changes  as  you  see  fit.  enjoy  !  <3
hand kiss.
cheek kiss.
neck kiss.
back kiss.
forehead kiss.
ear kiss.
nose kiss.
shy kiss.
happy kiss.
surprise kiss.
angry kiss.
crying kiss.
rough kiss
soft kiss.
quick kiss.
platonic kiss.
jealous kiss.
first kiss.
last kiss.
clumsy kiss.
uninterested  kiss.
blown kiss.
awkward kiss.
drunk kiss.
bloody kiss.
sensual kiss.
dying kiss.
secret kiss.
teasing kiss.
against the wall kiss.
alleyway kiss.
rain kiss.
before  bed  kiss.
goodbye kiss.
âiâm sorryâ kiss.
âi missed youâ kiss.
âgood morningâ kiss.
âgoodnightâ kiss.
â§ perceive me plS
I would kill you. â§ I would physically hurt you. â§ I would attack you unprovoked. â§ I would manipulate you. â§ I dislike you. â§ You annoy me. â§ You scare me. â§ You intimidate me. â§ I hope I intimidate you. â§ I pity you. â§ You disgust me. â§ I hate you. â§ Iâm indifferent toward you. â§ Iâd like to get to know you better. â§ Â Iâd like to spend more time with you. â§ Iâd like to be friends with you. â§ Â Iâm unsure what to think of you. â§ Iâm unsure how I feel about you. â§ You are my friend. â§ You are my best friend. â§ You are my mentor. â§ I look up to you. â§ I respect you. â§ You are my hero. â§ You inspire me. â§ You are my enemy. â§ You make me happy. â§ I want to protect you. â§ I would fight by your side. â§ I consider you an equal. â§ I think you are beneath me. â§ I think you are above me. â§ I would lie for you. â§ I would lie to you. â§ I would sleep with you. â§ I would sleep by your side. â§ I would hug you. â§ I would kiss you. â§ You are family to me. â§ I would die for you. â§ I would kill for you. â§ I would trust you with my life. â§ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. â§ I would trust you with a secret. â§ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. â§ I love you (platonically). â§ I love you (romantically).
â§
I would kill you. â§ I would physically hurt you. â§ I would attack you unprovoked (just sibling things). â§ I would manipulate you. â§ I dislike you. â§ You annoy me (in a brotherly way). â§ You scare me. â§ You intimidate me. â§ I hope I intimidate you. â§ I pity you. â§ You disgust me. â§ I hate you. â§ Iâm indifferent toward you. â§ Iâd like to get to know you better. â§ Â Iâd like to spend more time with you. â§ Iâd like to be friends with you. â§ Â Iâm unsure what to think of you. â§ Iâm unsure how I feel about you. â§ You are my friend. â§ You are my best friend. â§ You are my mentor. â§ I look up to you. â§ I respect you. â§ You are my hero. â§ You inspire me. â§ You are my enemy. â§ You make me happy. â§ I want to protect you. â§ I would fight by your side. â§ I consider you an equal. â§ I think you are beneath me. â§ I think you are above me. â§ I would lie for you. â§ I would lie to you. â§ I would sleep with you. â§ I would sleep by your side. â§ I would hug you. â§ I would kiss you. â§ You are family to me. â§ I would die for you. â§ I would kill for you. â§ I would trust you with my life. â§ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. â§ I would trust you with a secret. â§ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. â§ I love you (platonically). â§ I love you (romantically).
â§
I would kill you. â§ I would physically hurt you. â§ I would attack you unprovoked. â§ I would manipulate you. â§ I dislike you. â§ You annoy me. â§ You scare me. â§ You intimidate me. â§ I hope I intimidate you. â§ I pity you. â§ You disgust me. â§ I hate you. â§ Iâm indifferent toward you. â§ Iâd like to get to know you better. â§ Â Iâd like to spend more time with you. â§ Iâd like to be friends with you. â§ Â Iâm unsure what to think of you. â§ Iâm unsure how I feel about you. â§ You are my friend. â§ You are my best friend. â§ You are my mentor. â§ I look up to you. â§ I respect you. â§ You are my hero. â§ You inspire me. â§ You are my enemy. â§ You make me happy. â§ I want to protect you. â§ I would fight by your side. â§ I consider you an equal. â§ I think you are beneath me. â§ I think you are above me. â§ I would lie for you. â§ I would lie to you. â§ I would sleep with you. â§ I would sleep by your side. â§ I would hug you. â§ I would kiss you. â§ You are family to me. â§ I would die for you. â§ I would kill for you. â§ I would trust you with my life. â§ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. â§ I would trust you with a secret. â§ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. â§ I love you (platonically). â§ I love you (romantically).
â§
I would kill you. â§ I would physically hurt you. â§ I would attack you unprovoked. â§ I would manipulate you. â§ I dislike you. â§ You annoy me. â§ You scare me. â§ You intimidate me. â§ I hope I intimidate you. â§ I pity you. â§ You disgust me. â§ I hate you. â§ Iâm indifferent toward you. â§ Iâd like to get to know you better. â§ Â Iâd like to spend more time with you. â§ Iâd like to be friends with you. â§ Â Iâm unsure what to think of you. â§ Iâm unsure how I feel about you. â§ You are my friend. â§ You are my best friend. â§ You are my mentor. â§ I look up to you. â§ I respect you. â§ You are my hero. â§ You inspire me. â§ You are my enemy. â§ You make me happy. â§ I want to protect you. â§ I would fight by your side. â§ I consider you an equal. â§ I think you are beneath me. â§ I think you are above me. â§ I would lie for you. â§ I would lie to you. â§ I would sleep with you. â§ I would sleep by your side. â§ I would hug you. â§ I would kiss you. â§ You are family to me. â§ I would die for you. â§ I would kill for you. â§ I would trust you with my life. â§ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. â§ I would trust you with a secret. â§ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. â§ I love you (platonically). â§ I love you (romantically).

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
â§
I would kill you. â§ I would physically hurt you. â§ I would attack you unprovoked. â§ I would manipulate you. â§ I dislike you. â§ You annoy me. â§ You scare me. â§ You intimidate me. â§ I hope I intimidate you. â§ I pity you. â§ You disgust me. â§ I hate you. â§ Iâm indifferent toward you. â§ Iâd like to get to know you better. â§ Â Iâd like to spend more time with you. â§ Iâd like to be friends with you. â§ Â Iâm unsure what to think of you. â§ Iâm unsure how I feel about you. â§ You are my friend. â§ You are my best friend. â§ You are my mentor. â§ I look up to you. â§ I respect you. â§ You are my hero. â§ You inspire me. â§ You are my enemy. â§ You make me happy. â§ I want to protect you. â§ I would fight by your side. â§ I consider you an equal. â§ I think you are beneath me. â§ I think you are above me. â§ I would lie for you. â§ I would lie to you. â§ I would sleep with you. â§ I would sleep by your side. â§ I would hug you. â§ I would kiss you. â§ You are family to me. â§ I would die for you. â§ I would kill for you. â§ I would trust you with my life. â§ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. â§ I would trust you with a secret. â§ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. â§ I love you (platonically). â§ I love you (romantically).
â§
I would kill you. â§ I would physically hurt you. â§ I would attack you unprovoked. â§ I would manipulate you. â§ I dislike you. â§ You annoy me. â§ You scare me. â§ You intimidate me. â§ I hope I intimidate you. â§ I pity you. â§ You disgust me. â§ I hate you. â§ Iâm indifferent toward you. â§ Iâd like to get to know you better. â§ Â Iâd like to spend more time with you. â§ Iâd like to be friends with you. â§ Â Iâm unsure what to think of you. â§ Iâm unsure how I feel about you. â§ You are my friend. â§ You are my best friend. â§ You are my mentor. â§ I look up to you. â§ I respect you. â§ You are my hero. â§ You inspire me. â§ You are my enemy. â§ You make me happy. â§ I want to protect you. â§ I would fight by your side. â§ I consider you an equal. â§ I think you are beneath me. â§ I think you are above me. â§ I would lie for you. â§ I would lie to you. â§ I would sleep with you. â§ I would sleep by your side. â§ I would hug you. â§ I would kiss you. â§ You are family to me. â§ I would die for you. â§ I would kill for you. â§ I would trust you with my life. â§ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. â§ I would trust you with a secret. â§ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. â§ I love you (platonically). â§ I love you (romantically).