Top Posts Tagged with #v.s

Thomas Pynchon - V. - Bantam - 1968

#witches #v.s #occult #vintage #v.#bantam books #thomas pynchon #profanes #owlglasses #stencils #1968

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Dibujos del 2020 V.S Dibujos del 2021

Al ver mis dibujos antiguos me puse a pensar y digo, no sé, "¿Cambié mi forma de dibujar?" Y we– comparé mis dibujos y sí, cambié un poco en lo que es dibujar. Cosas de la vida.

#dibujos antiguos #v.s #dibujos actuales #a no se we- debería mostrar un antes y un después xd #xd #cosas de la vida

The Mentor

The Protege

#me #v.s

When the moon’s face was in full view, and the heavens allowed no cloud cover to tarnish the curtain of light to wash the earth, he found her here. Naked feet stained with dirt, between her toes the moss thrived; she sat there for bells, still as death, yet her eyes harnessed the fire of the sun and were set ablaze at the sight of him.

He tasted divinity as he pressed his lips to her leg; his hands chart their course along the length of her thighs, indenting the flesh with the tips of his fingertips. His knees fell to the ground and he muttered his hallelujah as he found his home between her thighs. The shadows spread over the blooms, blanketing them darkness as he whispered, the heat of his breath forcing goose-flesh to appear.

“When wast it last that another has dared to touch heaven and found hell awaited them,” his eyes were cool, a bright amethyst that met her gaze steadily. His smile was hidden as he kissed the side of her bare knee.

“Beyond your flesh, the soul remains unclaimed - untouched.” His hair fell around his features, and for a moment, one could see the stars, that peppered his dark skin, give off an emission of light. Darkness coiled around her ankles and he leaned forth to kiss the inside of her left thigh, taking in the scent of spring and the heat of summer she radiates. Ah, but he goes no further, instead rests his head there on her thigh, arms coiled about her form with the strength of a serpent claiming its prey, restricting movement. Fingers snagged the fabric of her garment, threatening to rip it away.

Her body ached to move, but her muscles would not respond, nary a sound came from her lips in protest. Though he felt it, the rage building up within her, for the earth gave a tremor, and the winds viciously tugged at his long hair, causing his cloak to snap in the violent gusts. Her anger was manifesting around him, delighting him.

He wanted more. But, push her too far and she would become exhausted. No, he needed her awake.

A smile tugged on his lips but neither love or charm were reflected there.

“..now now, beloved.”