phoenixpearl-ashes

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

I think I've been adopted.

#elden ring #screenshot #sorceress sellen

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

My beloved sons, Bonk and Bap.

#elden ring #screenshot #fanged imp ashes

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I have never seen the aurora before. I doubt I will again. It was lovely.

#aurora borealis #phoenix photos

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

I am being Handled by women.

….I miss my partner.

I cannot be the only person who finds the Black Knife Assasin’s finishing move to be entirely too hot.

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AND they’re all women?? Hell yeah.

I cannot be the only person who finds the Black Knife Assasin’s finishing move to be entirely too hot.

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

I cannot be the only person who finds the Black Knife Assasin’s finishing move to be entirely too hot.

#Elden ring #black knife assassin

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Me and my clone coming to get you. (We are armed with claws :) )

#elden ring #screenshot

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Me and my wife (A questionably intentioned demigod seeking ascension on her own terms)

#elden ring #elden ring spoilers #ranni the witch #screenshot

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

Why's it so pretty though?

#Elden ring #screenshot

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

Heather at the Door

Heather wondered, just for a moment, whether she was dying. 

A brief fantasy, ending as the slow pulse of pain crept up the back of her neck, pounding through her temple where it pressed against the unsympathetic concrete. She blinked slowly, the arm stretched in front of her coming into focus, blackness dripping off her twitching fingers like ink. The wicked points at the end of them were melting off, puddling into the dark swirls below. Underneath, all that remained was her hands, skin olive tinged and tipped with ragged-edged nails.

A hoarse shout echoed from behind her, ringing painfully through Heather’s head, and her eyes snapped the rest of the way open. 

Not safe. Not safe. Never safe. Move! She snarled to herself. Her arms drew close to her again, scrabbled for a moment, then managed to lift her into a sitting position, eyes finally focusing enough to see around her again. The concrete beneath her ended abruptly a few feet away, where a thin strip of weeds stood at the base of a sturdy stone wall. Most of the wall was a muddy grey with age, with hints of the lighter shade it must have been years ago peeking out from sheltered edges. Across from Heather though…

“Oh.” She murmured. A smear, or perhaps a splatter marked the wall, rusty red and dripping from the rough center, where chunks of gore, scraps of cloth, and fragments of bone remained stuck to the stone. Nothing about it was identifiable as anything but broken, bloodied meat. Below it, the darkness swirled. White shapes blinked in and out as Heather dragged herself to her feet. The edges of her vision were dark, but she remained standing even as she doubled over to retch red-tinged bile onto the ground. When she straightened back up, her eyes searched everywhere but the display on the wall, flicking to either side to orient herself. 

It was an alley, she realized. One side’s wall that grey stone, the other cracked red brick, each with a heavy metal door, and between them the ill-maintained concrete ground. The end of the alley to Heather’s right was where the shout had come from, and though another like it had not come after, a steady drift of sounds came from that direction. Laughter, raucous and unapologetic, the murmur of overlapping conversation, and music, crackling as though played too loudly out of a too-small speaker. To her left was quiet, and a darkness nearly as complete as the shadows shifting at her feet. 

She stared in the direction of the bright lights and brighter sounds for only a moment before turning away and limping towards the dark. She reached into her jacket pocket as she left, fingers blindly wrapping around her phone to dial a number on muscle memory alone. She didn’t bother to hold it up to her ear. It just hummed quietly in her pocket until the call failed on its own.

The city at night was as familiar to her as it was in the day, perhaps even more so. It was no more than ten minutes after her departure from the alley that she stood in front of a familiar door, painted sage green and with a tarnished brass knocker hung upon the front. She didn’t reach for the knocker. She didn’t knock by hand, or push the ringer button that glowed gently beside the door either. She just waited, arms held tight around her middle and slumping a bit more as she stood there in the quiet.

And then the door opened. Heather gave a quiet hiss at the brightness, squinting at the figure in the doorway. They were a tall, dark shape against the light, steady even to Heather’s wavering vision. 

They were quiet, for a long moment. If Heather had been looking she would have seen the myriad of emotions that flickered across their face as they reached across the door frame for Heather’s shoulder, and the way their eyes went sad as their fingers came back damp and red.

“Oh Heather…” they said softly. Heather didn’t say anything, but when they reached forward to take hold of her hand and pulled gently she followed without protest. The door shut behind her quietly, and she was led through a small hallway and into a room lit softly by a small lamp. Just inside the room stood a plush maroon couch, and it was to this that they gently led Heather, pulling her carefully down to sit on it. Here, in the dim light, Heather could finally look properly at them again. She was pale, almost unhealthily so, with dusty blonde hair that turned to ruddy red farther down, so long she could have used it as a coat, and ice blue eyes fixed upon Heather’s own green ones. Her lips were moving, slowly and carefully, and it took a moment for Heather to hear the words for which the movement was made.

“Heather? Can you hear me?”

Heather blinked, slowly. Here in the quiet, everything hurt so much less and so much more at the same time. Her mouth opened for a moment, but nothing came out at first but a quiet cough, one that she muffled in her hand only for it to come away splattered with that sticky red.

“Sienna.” She mumbled. 

The woman beside her had the pained, sad look again. Heather wished she could make it go away. 

“Yes, Heather, that’s me. Sienna.” She waited for a moment, seeming to see if Heather would say anything else, but the silence only stretched on. Heather’s eyes began to drift shut again.

“Ah-ah wait. Not…you can’t sleep just yet. Soon.” She reached for Heather’s shoulder again, uncaring of the way the fabric stuck to her hand as she peeled it gently off of her. “This is new, isn’t it? It’s nice. I like the pattern. Plaid has always suited you.” She kept up a steady, even toned murmur of one-sided conversation as she carefully removed the jacket, and then the flannel beneath it. Both were laid over the back of the couch, the redness seeping harmlessly into the even darker fabric below it. By the time both had been peeled off, Heather’s eyes were properly open, pupils wide and fully focused upon Sienna’s face.

“Mm, it is new. Got it for you. Too comfy though, kept it. Guess you can have it. Might need a wash now though..” Heather gave the tiniest giggle as she looked at the state of the flannel beside her. 

At the sound of her voice and laugh Sienna’s face brightened “Oh there you are.” She glanced at the flannel, face cracking into a smile. “Just maybe. Or maybe I could call it a fashion statement. Sanguine couture, anyone?”

“I know you’d look incredible. In it or anything else.”

“Hm, yes you’re very charming. I don’t believe the guys at the office would think so though.”

“All the more reason.”

“True, true. Though I would like to keep my job. Stability has…some perks.” Sienna gestured to the room around them, a small but comfy looking living room painted a similar sage color to the door at the front. On the floor, a thick plush carpet covered the wooden floor. The two’s shadows stretched out across it, darkening as the minutes stretched on in idle conversation. White shapes and movement unreflected in the two women danced across them, unnoticed in the quiet peace of the evening.

Rather abruptly, perhaps half an hour after Heather had arrived, Sienna sat up from where she had leaned back on the couch. “Shall we go to bed?”

“Why yes, we shall, my lady.” Heather said, putting on a faux posh accent as she got to her feet. 

“If I’m to be your lady, then you really ought to be a bit more deferential you know.” Sienna snipped as she stood to join her. The words were harsh, but the softness in her eyes remained as she reached out to take Heather’s offered hand. Heather brought it to her lips, leaving a crimson mark behind them. 

“My apologies, madam.” Her eyes, dark behind their lids, stared up at Sienna from her half bowed position. “I’ll do better for you.”

“See that you do.” Sienna murmured. She lifted her hand gently from Heather’s grasp, tongue flicking out to wipe away the red mark. “Now, I believe we were going to bed?”

The lamp clicked off as they left the room, their dim shapes trailing away down the hall farther into the house. Behind them, their shadows flickered and shifted, swirling and tumbling into each other in a silent dance until neither could separate from the other.

#hurt people #heather #sienna #phoenix writing

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

My laptop should probably be allowed to file some sort of complaint against me for making it upload a 2 hour video and install Elden Ring at the same time.

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

A Girl Tells Me I am Beautiful

The stained glass and the soft pew 

Are more alike than not

Enough to fight a pointless war

Tearing throats for empty words

Sitting in a floral dress

Cold in the winter

Colder in the summer

As someone tells me how broken I am

Quiet when they speak

Loud when we sing

Screaming to silence

Sharp eyes and sharper tongues

Hymnals I have never read

The songs are free of harmony

Is it my voice or theirs?

I cannot sing alone for fear

Leading a song I do not hear

Reading words I start to fear

Incense burns and clouds my mind

And still I always see their eyes

Broken, bending, twisting shape

Ribs and limbs cracked misshaped

But thankfully no surface damage 

Quiet now, don’t draw attention

Behind the glass his robes shift

Colored shapes in unknown rites

Bread or flesh I cannot eat

Wine or blood I cannot drink 

He says to know your purpose

Then what can I be for?

This blood I can taste

This empty cup is not stained red

Snow falls new and faces change

Flaws move closer to the surface

Seal cracks and trim tongue

Better knife behind or front?

A girl tells me I am beautiful

I wish I could believe her

#Phoenix Poetry #poetry #poem

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

reblog to fucking bite the person you reblog from

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

This cat that my girlfriend said that I am, and then I sent to my friend who also said I am this cat. The consensus is getting concerning.

Found this on Twitter, so I thought, why not posting it here and doing a tag game 😊

Ok, I’ll go first

If he is the reason, I’d go to prison gladly 🥰❤️‍🔥

Tagging: @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @nic-214 @milkyway-ashes @dr-radiation @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen @sunsetdaydreamer @therockywhorerpictureshow @delicatelyfantasticninja and everyone 😊

Sorry if I forgot to tag some of you!

#tag game

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

Holy fuck.

Why did no one tell me generation loss is so good?

(This is a lie. Many people told me this. I am however, just watching it now and would love to blame not myself)

[phoenixpearl-ashes]

Oh hey stained glass and Jesus imagery

Why did no one tell me generation loss is so good?

(This is a lie. Many people told me this. I am however, just watching it now and would love to blame not myself)

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Why is this genuinely upsetting

Why did no one tell me generation loss is so good?

(This is a lie. Many people told me this. I am however, just watching it now and would love to blame not myself)