Inspiration blog for Kour'el, Daughter of the Sands. The Little Ox, Family of The Bitter Syndicate. (Kourel on Wyrmrest Accord)
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2M
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1M
Reply Per Post
152
Time Between Posts
4 days
Number of Posts By Type
Photo
10
Video
1
Quote
1
Text
4
Note
1
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The shorter you are the closer you are to hell
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I don’t want to love you. Love is not beautiful. Love put pressure on the welts that rose from my skin. Love was what begged me to hide them. Love tried to shield my soul from the serrated edges of his words. Love was what bled from my wounds. Love wiped the tears from my swollen cheeks. Love buckled my knees, and threw me to the floor. Love covered my lips, trying it’s hardest to hold back tortured screams. Love told me that we could fix this. Love tried to fill the pit deep in my chest. But love was the one digging Love told me not to run. Love told me not to tell. Love gave her another chance. Love gave them another chance. Love gave him another chance. I scrambled to get to the love that was hiding at the bottom of the pill bottles. I was eager to mine love from the veins that ran through my wrists. I twisted my flesh, desperately trying to find the love that was hiding amongst the blues and greens that would rise in protest against the thin veil of my skin. I tore at my chest as love overflowed from my eyes, wasted on dreams that would never be. I thought love was the peace that filled me as I slipped gentle into that dark night, as it weighed my body down, as it slowly stole the air from my lungs. No, love was the jolt, the flood of oxygen to my blood, and the shrill pulsing echo behind me as I opened my eyes in defeat. This is how love wanted me to remember it, the impressions it left. Love has torn the world apart and I am no exception. Love is the dirty syringe you knowingly dive into your veins because you need it. You think you need it. Love is the rusted nail that you step on, just barely sticking out of the wood on your porch. You thought it was safe; the one time you didn’t bother to wear shoes. No I do not like love. I do not want it. I do not envy the fool that runs blindly into it. I stare in confusion at those who crave it like a drug; thumb resting firmly on the plunger of that syringe. They think they need it. I’ve seen what it is. I’ve seen what it can do. Love is only as beautiful as tragedy, only as timeless as the havoc it wreaks. So when I look at you, I don’t want to love you. You are not what bled from my skin. You are not the bruises that I beckoned to the surface of my flesh. You are not the tears that streamed down my cheeks, the rusty nail, a dirty syringe, the screams that ravaged my throat, the words that shredded my soul, the welts. When I look at you I am not defeated. When I look at you my heart tells me to run, to run for dear life, but only because I don’t know what this is, I don’t what you are. I don’t know what you could do to me and I’m not used to this. I know what love has done I am used to its destruction and you are not love. Love is not what I see when I look at you. Love is not beautiful. But you, you are beautiful. You are filling the pit in my chest. You are healing my wounds. I cannot find you at the bottom of a pill bottle. I cannot find you beneath my skin. I cannot find you within my veins. Yes, you are destroying me but only to begin anew with an immaculate foundation. So no, I do not want to love you. I will not love you. I want something beautiful, untainted. And love isn’t the word I’m looking for.
nonpluxxed, Songs of Sonder and Dissonance (via wnq-writers)
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someone: I like you
me (blushing): im goING TO FIGHT YOU
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things about cuddling that fanfictions often fail to mention:
“move my arm is falling asleep”
“i can’t breathe”
“just jam your knee right up my crotch. this is fine”
“omg get up you’re taking up the whole bed”
“did you just fart” “yes” “it’s okay. release your demons”
“did you just fart” “yes” “okay.” *ten seconds later* “AUGH”
“you’ve got bad breath” “omg do i really” “yes” “i’m so sorry” “it’s okay”
*hand is accidentally on a boob/nipple/genital* “omg don’t move”/”omg i’m so sorry”
*can hear the other’s tummy gurgle*
“i’m hungry” “i’m not moving”
“i have to pee” “nooooooo”
*right as one person is about to fall asleep, one of their body parts jerk and it scares the poop out of the other person*
*hours later when they’ve both fallen asleep and are no longer cuddling, one person stretches and softly punches the other in the face*
bonus:
“do you remember when you used to think you were straight”
“do you remember when we thought we were just friends”
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SS: What was their latest fantasy? Is it something they hope comes true?
“Perhaps I’m a bit simple minded in that regard. I know someone who would say it is just because I haven’t gone out an ‘explored’ the different options, but my latest fantasy is one that I’ve had come true. One that has me wanting it more and more each time it does come true.”
“I’m a woman who does not listen to authority- who recognizes no authority. So when Jeyer forces me to see just who is in charge... When I hear the growl laced in his voice, when he takes me for himself, and when I am at his mercy... I call that my personal fantasy. One that I’m lucky enough that it has a tendency to come true.”
@mistersoris
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Sexual Sunday
Anon is ON Anything goes!!! This guy is also @cazmilan
Will send things back as always!
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Pole dance by Dimitry Roulland - Photo 127290105 - 500px.
#art #blackandwhite #dance #acrobatics #hair #pole #poledance #poledancer #performer #performanceart #lake #light #natural #nature #girl #woman #beautiful #beauty #amazing #female #photography #augsburg #munich #münchen #stuttgart
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Artist: Daniel Landerman
Once again illustration reaches Art. The ambivalence between feminity and danger at its quintessence.
His words: “Whether I’m doing character designs for clients or storyboards or key art concepts, the story weaves itself in. After all, what is a character without context?”
His website
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Everyday is leg day when you’re running from your problems
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