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angery deaf noises.

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growling.

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-- wHeNn i’M aLl AloNe, i wIshEdd yoU hAd a ClOne..

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--   His teeth wobbled back and forth as he bit down, it hurt to breathe from the supposed cracked, breaking teeth within his mouth. The pain was minor due to his overdose, but nonetheless he still felt it. He couldn’t think straight; the vibrant colors he saw and the multiple shadows began to swirl, but become a solid picture--nausea set in and weakness was prominent. Low blood sugar, among the nerve damage; hungry, but sick. But the pain was the only thing that made him feel less like a monster--made him feel normal for once. Almost Human.

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contacts+skype: vvolfbite. // personal bloge

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when i heard nicolas talk in dub

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Can I say… I survived? 

                                       Or maybe I should say that I failed to die…

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WE’RE NOTHING BUT DOGS.

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HANDYMAN SERVICES.

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                   The snide retort in the form of a grunted smirk swiftly changed to his placid, emotionless vigor that he gave off majority of the time, although it had been aimed in her direction - it was more or less him, enjoying the thought that he wasn’t up late by himself as usual. Her company, though very slim and rare due to his misanthropy, he held no ill-will toward her. She was the very few other than Nina, Theo, and Worick that he’s warmed up to, become comfortable with showing any emotion to, even if it is a rarity to see. Miraculous just as a falling star during the day, the night humidity set in - the smog settled from the sun setting, and the moon rising.The floor boards, sticky and skin peeled each footstep given - sheets were warm just as the bed, for the air was slightly damp, so her working this late with all of the heat settling and rising, he said nothing to avert annoying her even further as she waned from piles of paperwork.

His voice was deep, gravelly, as if it were numb, or that he didn’t have a tongue - the lack of ears make his word play quite arduous. He read her lips as she spoke softly. He enjoyed the cognizant tenor that bellowed from her chest, throat, and vocal cords. Her voice was soothing, like the pitter-patter of the summer rain; warm rain drops that are the size of quarters. Her voice was a fire starter, especially when she sang; electricity throughout the air, and the vibrations alone sooth his mind. 

Staring at her from the hallway, coming from the shower, he spoke as best as he could --

“aLLy, cOol oFf a nd gO rESt....”

So soft a weary sigh slips honeyed lips as another hour makes its way thwart nightfall. Benriya was dormant for the evening, granting time to its tenants to bask in nonpermanent leisure. Alex was found mindlessly scribbling away behind the front desk for a drabble or two. Albeit, her effortless thoughts were waning to an onerous cogitation as her diverting pastime turned into a strenuous chore with every stroke of a ballpoint pen against paper. She was tired. Hellbent on a hunger even a good meal couldn’t quench. Yet, she ungrudgingly ensued to peruse through illegible chicken scratch in hopes to perfect the quintessence of her work before the lights went out. And just as slender digits engirdled the writing utensil for a few more sentences, the faint sound of a chuckle immediately seized her attention to what looked like a blithe, smirking Nicolas. It was soft, euphonic, almost, had the incertitude of his chuckling didn’t obstruct her consciousness to wonder why; for confabulation was a rarity between the both of them, with laughter being a miracle whenever it occurred. But the two had always shared a wordless hymn ample enough to enjoy the other’s presence in quietude. Curious, still, a quirk of her head eased concentration to his features before requesting an answer.

— ❝ Mm? What’s so funny? ❞  

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Why is there drama about how people color manga scans anyway? I mean, it seems a waste of your time to even bring up. Hardly anyone enjoys doing anything these days because there are a bunch of white knights, on their high horses, ready to slice off any head who has a hue, shade, tone...

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the 6th icon in your folder is your muse’s reaction to watching someone they despise die.

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                                              ʟ ᴏ ᴏ ᴋ   ιη тнε  ᴍ ɪ ʀ ʀ ᴏ ʀ                                               ᴡ ʜ ᴀ ᴛ    ∂σ үσυ     s ᴇ ᴇ ?                                                                   ��                                               ａ              ｍｏｎｓｔｅｒ                                               ａ          ｍｕｒｄｅｒｅｒ                                               it’s  ᴀ ʟ ʟ  you’ll   ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ʀ  be