when i close my eyes
i feel you
when the world falls to silence
i hear you
no matter whatever happens
i love you

even if you must go

16:12 6/9/2014 No 0 notes

in the space between my lips
i reserved a space for you
and my hands rest upon your hips
while closer to me you drew

it’s hard to see the good times go
when you i held so dear
and often it seems that you don’t know
that it’s all i ever fear

i will always remember your words
so soft, and warm, and nice
like the loss of chirping birds
your face, it turns to ice

16:11 6/9/2014 No 0 notes

my fingers ache
to feel your hair
between their tips

my hands shake
when i think of the taste
of your lips

yet now i hestitate
and i am unsure
if all i’ll do is wait
with my heart in my throat forevermore

16:05 6/9/2014 No 1 note

oh, my love, don’t leave me
when all is said and done
oh, my love, don’t forget me
for my heart you have long since won

16:02 6/9/2014 No 1 note
fool’s quest

The trees cast a shadow over everything, blocking out the sun as Adriaan moved amongst their trunks. As a halfling, at 3 feet 4 inches tall, all but the baby trees towered above him. He didn’t mind, however— it made him feel safer, protective by the thick wood that made up the bases. The smaller he was, the easier it was to go unseen, and the more protected from danger he was, despite the fact that he was drifting dangerously close to a camp of goblins.

Hunkering down against the dead leaves, Adriaan listened closely for a moment, before dismissing it as simply an animal. He continued on his path to the old ruin, wanting to investigate it. He’d heard from others in the camp that it was nearby, and couldn’t resist the chance to do some looting. The halfling had found his best sword in a ruin— it had only needed a good sharpening.

His green eyes brightened as he came upon the ruin, getting a small chill of excitement as he thought of all the things that hid in an old tomb such as this. He clambered up the steps, coming upon the doorway, but froze before he entered. He wanted to be sure there were no traps upon the doors.

A full examination revealed none, and he pushed the doors open to the musty interior. The air was strangely cold, and he tugged his dark cloak tighter around his shoulders. His sword thumped against his thigh once as he hopped down into the cracked floor, and he paused to light a torch with his flint and steel. The fire flared at first, and he waited for his eyes to adjust to the new light source in the dark.

The torch let him see the temple for what it was— beautiful, and remarkably well kept. The floor was polished, white, shining in the flickering flame, with a path proceeding forward up to the front. A dust-covered window allowed little light, so Adriaan edged closer to better see what lied ahead.

As he approached, he realized how lavishly this temple had once been decorated. The remains of silk lay across the rotting wood benches, and what might have once been velvet covered the floor at the front of the temple. This must be where the priest or priestess spoke, he mused as he looked over the stone table.

It was only very close, under close inspection in the light, that Adriaan saw the dark stains across the stone, and realized what they were. He stared in shock and horror at the dried blood that seemed to cover the whole of the stone, except for a small patch at the corner. Spotting that grey bit of stone confirmed that it was not merely the color of the table, and the halfling felt queasy. He stumbled backwards from the bloodstained table, and tripped on a fold in the fabric on the floor.
Adriaan fell backwards into an altar, covered in fresh donations of flowers and bones. The old wood of the altar cracked under even the light weight of the 13 year old halfling, and he fell further to the hard stone beneath it, the contents of the altar shattering around him and on top of his stomach. He groaned, shock from the fall overtaking him for a couple of moments.

After a few minutes of lying there, he pulled himself up and dusted the fragments of the altar off of his clothing. His cloak had torn on the corner of the wood, and Adriaan frowned slightly at the large rip in the fabric. With a sigh, he took it off, stuffed it in his pack, and set about leaving the old temple.

"This creepy old place wasn’t even worth the walk," he muttered under his breath, heading toward the light of the door. His torch had gone out in the rush of the fall, leaving him with only the sunlight shining through the open doorway to guide his feet. He made it back to the entrance, but found himself unable to pass through the doors. It was as though there were a wall there, but he could see nothing before him but air. His hand pressed flat against the air, stopped by the invisible force, and he kicked out recklessly.

While grumbling over his now-broken toe, a voice drifted from a dark corner, and Adriaan tensed. “You have desecrated this place, my house, my TEMPLE. For your senseless wreckage, you will pay.” He couldn’t see well enough in the temple to be sure, but it didn’t look like anyone was in the corner, and it only made the crawling under his skin worse.

Nervous, Adriaan found his voice, and replied, “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen— I just tripped! It was an accident!” He hoped that would appease whatever force spoke to him, lest it strike out in some horrible vengeance. He felt all of his childish naivete fade as fear overtook him, from head to toe, and he remembered all the tales his mother had told him of vengeful gods and evil sorcerers.

Sorry? That does not repair the damage you have done, both physically and spiritually, to this place of my worship.” The voice grew louder until it sounded like there was someone next to him, shouting in his ears. Adriaan curled up, trying to cover his ears against the noise, but it only moved to speak inside of his mind.

For your blatant disrespect of my temple, your curse will be thus: you may never find solace or comfort in any temple, for you shall never pass through its doors. No matter the deity, you are forever barred from all temples you come across, at risk of great pain to your mind and body.

After the voice faded, he was thrust from the doorway, landing face down in the grass outside of the old temple. Adriaan didn’t want to get up, he felt so hopeless. How could he explain this to anyone? He was such a reckless fool.

20:47 29/7/2014 No 2 notes

(via eeveestho)

20:25 4/4/2014 No 84,036 notes literaryheroine

humanstuck gamzee what the fuck menagerie question mark question mark.txt

trigger warnings: hallucinations, blood, allusions to mental illness

gabriel is gamzee, gaspar is karkat

Read More

0:21 19/3/2014 No 1 note

i may be a fire
passionate and hot to touch
prepared to protect

but i am nothing
without the fuel you provide
to keep my spark safe

3:59 24/2/2014 No 0 notes
glasslung:

of bitten tongues and fingernails: a poem for liars

glasslung:

of bitten tongues and fingernails: a poem for liars

(via biromanticsteve)

5:21 22/2/2014 No 90 notes

yamatohatake:

sauntering-vaguely-into-insanity:

officialundertaker:

grellsutc1iff:

antagonist does not equal bad guy

antagonist does not equal bad guy

antagonist does not equal bad guy

protagonist does not equal good guy

protagonist does not equal good guy

protagonist does not equal good guy

protagonist

image

antagonist

image

literally the defintion of protagnoist is the main character and the antagonist is the person who opposes him it has nothing to do with morals or right and wrong

(via roboboners)

2:12 24/1/2014 No 88,589 notes darbroy