Tag: au

rmeisel:

Asterion says Mum bought you pearls again and Ariadne rolls her eyes, provoking, and pushes the comb through her straight hair with more force than necessary.

                                sometimes she dreams of being dead

Asterion watches from the other side of his room, frozen on the childish office chair their parents bought him years ago; his fingernails drill in the ripped cotton that’s washed and bleached down to a hideous sea-green by now.

                               it’s not as horrible as it sounds

His eyes never leave his sister’s body – how she sways, how she bends, how she fucking moves  – He wants to chain her up.

                               a grave may be dark but a grave is silent

Strap her. Strip her.

                               a grave doesn’t judge

Cut and purge and caress her wild-kissed brown skin that glistens golden and warm as soon as stray sun-rays cast their bright shine on her. He wants to bite down in the soft flesh of her thighs and choke on the blood that he will taste there.

                    a grave doesn’t care if you’ve put enough makeup on your face
                                or if your dress is long enough to cover your thighs
                                  but short enough to show your knees

He wants to moan. To unravel her. To rip the delicate layer of her skin with his bare hands.

                               a grave simply is

He wants to fuck her, to control her, to thrust into her, deeper and deeper, he wants to – Do you think Theseus will notice me? Asterion blinks.

                               instead she wakes in the mornings
                                and is too exhausted to try living again

Ariadne turns around and faces him, her lips shiny and luscious and pink. Ariadne, his sister. He swallows.

– Pulling Strings | r.m – published in Fragments

arrenemris:

She often sees these weirdly vivid, peculiar dreams. She feels dark blue water and grey sky, she hears ancient songs and sees macabre rituals. She should be afraid of these fierce and brutal dreams, but it’s not all cruel and ruthless, because she can see magnificent creatures —dragons and their pure raw magic. And there is also him, that stupidly handsome man with fire in his eyes and gentle accented voice, murmuring her name in a soft whisper. There are that dreams full of passionate kisses — Caroline can swear that her lips feel bruised in the mornings and there is always heat between her thighs.

Caroline thinks that she read too much fiction and well, dreams are only dreams.

Till the day she really meets him.

Till the day she remembers.

happy birthday @accidental-rambler!

☃ Christmas Inspired Starters ☃

occultumfilia:

promptplots:

  • “I wasn’t sure what to get you.”
  • “When did this turn into an ugly sweater party?”
  • “I wish it would snow.”
  • “Wake up! It’s Christmas!”
  • “It’s Christmas Eve. That means I can open a present right?”
  • “Is this eggnog spiked?”
  • “Can you help me untangle these lights?”
  • “You can’t put alcohol in the hot chocolate.”
  • “Surprise! I’m your Christmas present.”
  • “I’d rather spend Christmas with you.”
  • “Who’d you piss off to get invited to this party?”
  • “You cannot do what you did last year.”
  • “Is that supposed to be a snowman?”
  • “Can I put the tree topper on this year?”
  • “I dunno, this tree looks a little bare.”
  • “Of course I would love spending Christmas with your parents!”
  • “Is it considered Christmas wine if I drink it on Christmas?”
  • “That tree isn’t even going to fit in the house! Why did you buy it without measuring it first?”
  • “I’d rather be someplace warm.”
  • “I burnt the ham, let’s just order a pizza.”
  • “Why is there a reindeer on my front lawn?”
  • “None of these Christmas lights work.”
  • “I slipped and fell on the ice.”
  • “I’m not any good at ice skating.”
  • “Here, you can wear my gloves.”