#&. 001.

[ikarust]

#001. #vash the stampede #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun vash #trigun edit #trigun stampede edit #manga #anime #anime layouts #millions knives #trigun stampede nai #nai trigun #trigun stampede x reader #vash edit #trigun stampede icons #vash icons #millions knives icons #poetry #web weaving

[aeronmin]

Aeron regretted sealing the deal on security checks on mail that passed throughout the houses and to the districts beyond. What initially had been a small duty had turned his headquarters into a full-scale postal service, boxes continuing to grow day by day and the percentage tampered with had gotten so high that destroying it had become an issue. “We might as well burn the building down at this rate." His eyes locked with the male unloading the latest drop off, twisted smile creeping on his face and Aeron felt a surge of panic. "No, not literally. Don’t even think about it, I repeat, you are not allowed to burn down this building. I need to find saner people to recruit, I can’t do this..." His tangent and his movement halted as he turned his back to find another with their nose practically glued to his chest. “Aeron, there’s someone here that wants to talk to you.” They stumbled their way to be several paces away, gesturing towards the door but Aeron's eyes didn't follow the movement. "Is it important or is it someone here to yell at me for incinerating belladonna infused chocolates again? Because I’m not getting into the middle of another domestic with someone trying to kill their husband."

#001. #idk have him #001: aeron x wednesday

[canoncompliance]

@araneiid // from here.

The warning message is bright and buzzing on the screens surrounding them, and with his helm de-activated Miguel affords Briar something between a squint and a glare. He's irritated, but not hostile-- tired, but unwilling to have a real argument (especially with the hole ripping itself into Earth-90723 as they speak).

"It isn't about your skills," he says plainly. After all, if it were an issue of talent then half the people he's contacted wouldn't even be here.

"You've never been around this much volatile energy before. It'll make you sick."

Truthfully, being around the bigger rips in the multi-verse-- the ones that swallow worlds in, teeming with energy that shouldn't ever touch a carbon-based lifeform-- for too long makes even Miguel sick. But something as banal as his physical health is negligible, in the end.

"If you come with us and start feeling weak, you don't just become a liability, but you risk falling into that." One clawed finger points at the picture on the nearest screen: a black vortex sucks up what looks to be a mountainous version of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, colours exploding around the edges and the buildings wings starting to blip in and out of reality. "Are you sure you want to risk that?"

#araneiid #thread. #001.

[godf1les]

HIRAM ZIEGLER. alemán-americano, 26 años. campos de fuerza. matriculado en LUCHA CONTRA EL CRIMEN , ranking #10 habitación ALA OESTE - B312

# sobre él

empezó su educación en leyes allí en estados unidos, nacionalidad de parte materna & alemán de parte de padre, uno inmerso en el negocio de hidrocarburos. su madre ganó la custodia de una relacion extramatrimonial y nunca quisieron saber del padre, cosa diferente de este pero muy lejos esperaba mantenerlo a raya.

sus poderes no eran precisamente algo del que presumía desde que se presentaron, no de forma traumática pero tampoco inofensiva. comenzó a usarlos en casos extremos, pues su eje era ser abogado como su madre, él yéndose por el derecho ambiental.

su plan al mudarse a nueva york de alaska fue solo un juego, en parte por la muerte de su padre que les dejó una buena herencia del cual no huyeron hehe. le dio la idea de matricularse en godu. si rendía, bien. si no, le daba igual. o eso decía al principio, pues ahora se toma un poco en serio eso del ranking para llegar a la cima.

aunque coraza de despreocupado es observador & analítico, competitivo & es de los que dice el fin justifica los medios. aun asi, es un eco-friend de corazon, es un chico de ciudad sin remordimientos.🪴

# conexiones

rivales de facu : con quienes compite en los casos o en lo académico.

rivales del ranking : si bien es consciente que llegar a los 7 es trabajar en equipo, aun esta bajo el número se recuerda ser leal a sí mismo y ganarle a los demas

partners en el ranking : pero tiene su corazon al final, y esta dando un poco de rienda a ser leal a otros o tener amigos, estamos abiertos a tener uno o dos, y ser un pequeño squad.

romanticas : algo que no haya durado mucho bc este wey tiene en su prioridad el ranking y su carrera ( y su mamá 🫣) pudieron terminar bien o mal, we ar up to anything!

y en sí, cualquier cosita que se les ocurra 🌹

# etiquetas

˛⠀⠀*⠀⠀𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗺 𝘇𝗶𝗲𝗴𝗹𝗲𝗿⠀⠀﹕⠀⠀etiquetas.

#˛⠀⠀*⠀⠀𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗺 𝘇𝗶𝗲𝗴𝗹𝗲𝗿⠀⠀﹕⠀⠀sobre él. #001. #q no se note quien es mi favorita 🫣

[ask-shutter-ghost]

have you encountered any ANNOYING ghosts?

Shutter Ghost: Actually, no. I've been pretty lucky in that regard. So far the ghosts I've met have been either dangerous, scary, or friendly.

-----

Sunburst Color Reference

Sunburst Cutie Mark Reference

Royalty Free Background from Getty Images

#Sunburst #Mlp #My Little Pony #Cabin #Snow #Annoying Ghosts #001 #001. #Blanky #blanket

[terrorfying]

the sponsored blogpacks are no longer available. commissions are temporarily closed, as out of 4 slots, i have 6 orders. :) thank you so much to those who are coming to me. i appreciate it. remember to those who have ordered the blogpacks, your sponsor was @/pointm4n. please thank them for their kindness. ♡ when commissions are open again, i will announce it. thank you!

#001.

[mayaworld]

beatrice passou por uma semana conturbada. seu humor não estava dos melhores, se sentia mais sonolenta que o habitual e, também, seu corpo estava sendo tomado por náuseas fortes e tonturas, pensando que poderia ser resultado da sua má alimentação nos últimos dias. não estava se alimentando mal de propósito, mas ela estava tão cansada que a única coisa que queria fazer era chegar em casa e dormir agarrada em theo. definitivamente, isso era motivo o suficiente para que seu humor estivesse um pouco mais alterado que o normal, chamando a atenção de seus amigos que ousavam dizer que ela estava um pouco mais insuportável. eles não estavam errados, de todo modo, mas ainda assim ela mandou um ou outro para a casa do caralho como resposta. algo típico dela, ainda que não estivesse em seus melhores dias. ouvindo seus motivos, seus amigos sugeriram a última coisa que uma jovem da sua idade gostaria de ouvir: uma possível gravidez. foi motivo o suficiente para que ela sentisse seu café da manhã na boca do estômago, correndo em direção ao banheiro do bloco três para colocar tudo para fora.

talvez, seus amigos estivessem certos. pensando um pouco melhor, sua menstruação estava atrasada e sequer havia notado até aquele momento, aumentando ainda mais suas preocupações e torcendo para que aquilo não fosse verdade. ela não poderia estar grávida, definitivamente não; ser mãe não estava em seus planos e ela acreditava ser jovem e imatura demais para assumir uma responsabilidade tão grande como essa, sobretudo quando ainda estava na faculdade. próximo ao horário de almoço, beatrice correu até a farmácia mais próxima de seu apartamento. era melhor que tirasse essa dúvida agora ou ela não conseguiria pensar corretamente pelo resto do dia.

entretanto, ela precisou se apoiar em alguns dos móveis de sua casa e se arrastar em passos lentos até o sofá, as mãos trêmulas enquanto segurava o teste, que lhe mostrava um resultado positivo. os olhos arregalados mostravam o quão apavorada ela estava, sem conseguir pensar exatamente no que ela faria de agora em diante. beatrice se levantou, sem pensar muito, pegando seus pertences e colocando o teste dentro de sua bolsa, correndo em direção a casa de nico. para ela, era o melhor a se fazer naquele momento, porque ela definitivamente não poderia lidar com aquilo sozinha. batia incontáveis vezes na porta, com uma força que não era típica dela, sendo resultado unicamente do pavor que sentia naquele momento. a porta foi aberta, revelando um nicholas com uma expressão confusa no rosto e pronto para questionar o que ela estava fazendo ali naquele horário, mas ela o cortou antes que ele pudesse fazer qualquer pergunta. — de verdade, eu espero que você tenha algumas economias guardadas, porque eu não vou cuidar de uma criança sozinha. e se você me deixar sozinha agora, eu juro que mato você. — uma parte de si sabia que ele não iria fazer algo assim com ela, mas não conseguia raciocinar muito bem quando estava em um estado de nervosismo tão grande que ainda sentia suas mãos trêmulas. — desculpa, eu não deveria estar te dando essa notícia assim, mas é, vamos ser pais.  

#𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: beatrice & nico. #001.

[zoexreyes]

@eleanxrgot

não sabia exatamente o que a motivou reviver seus anos de ensino médio, mas lá estava zoe; no meio de tantos ex-colegas em um reencontro. a maioria era reconhecível, já que a aparência mantinha-se a mesma, exceto por alguns detalhes. o ambiente era agradável, ainda que o símbolo da escola a deixasse levemente desconfortável. era uma sensação estranha rever as pessoas e ninguém parecer lembrar de coisas ruins, apenas boas. todos eram grandes amigos que apenas perderam contato. 

cansada do papo furado, zoe esquivou-se de uma ex-colega que questionava sobre sua carreira — o que seria agora se não queria mais ser nutricionista? —, e foi até a mesa de aperitivos. até o momento, ninguém lhe causou grandes emoções ou coisa do tipo. bom, até ver ela. desviou seu olhar, focando na comida, mesmo que os olhos curiosos estivessem doidos para a olhar de novo. ela parecia muito bem... muito bem mesmo. não sabia se isso era bom ou ruim, mas considerando a última vez que se encontraram, achou melhor manter certa distância. 

#001.

[ofsyzygies]

◤┆✕ ° ○  001. LILY ·╱჻ [RETROSPECTIVE PARA]

DATED 15/01/89 TRIGGER WARNINGS; blood, substance abuse/self medication, implied accident, nightmares, suicide mention, implied depression, mental illness, auditory and visual hallucinations, trauma, ptsd, disability mention.

The sound of screeching tires and the flash of headlights attacked her senses; the woman was underwater, pressing her palms up against the glass, trying to break it before she ran out of breath. This happened nightly. On the other side of the glass were images; always the same: blood, glass, lights, lights, lights, and mangled metal. Every night, there was this glass wall she was trying to get through and on the other side was a limp body on the dashboard, and then every time, when the glass was just starting to GIVE, something happened——

She ran out of air, whatever oxygen she’d been trying to trap in her lungs escaping, and —

And Yuri woke up, just like that, every night. With heaving breaths and cold sweat clinging to her skin in a thin film. Cold sweat made auburn locks cling to her scalp, matted and messy and the soft skin of her face was always roughened by dried-up saltwater. It was so hard to breathe at first; she normally sat up hyperventilating for fifteen minutes that went on like those lazy, long days that refused to end and give way to the lull of nighttime. When she finally felt like she had caught her breath, she pushed herself off the bed, swinging her feet over the side. In her wake, there was a damp depression in the mattress from all the tossing and turning of her sweaty body. The British native walked over to the bathroom on shaking legs, now quite accustomed to this routine. After all, the nightmares had plagued her just like this for the past four years since her accident. Before, the nightmare was different, but the symptoms were the same, and those had lasted fourteen years.

She had come to despondently accept that being haunted was simply to be her reality.

When she left the bedroom, she made sure to slip out quietly as a force of habit. In the earliest years, when she was still living with her parents, it was always imperative not to wake anyone in the house. There was nobody she felt like talking to, anyway.

One clammy palm met the edge of the sink, coiling her fingers around it as she looked at herself in the mirror. Phantom pain travelled up an imaginary limb that had long been lost to her. The face that stared back at her was, as always, deceptively pristine, though dark circles resembling bruises were beginning to form around her eyes from the lack of sleep she had suffered over the past few days. Her skin, which was always snowy, was even paler from a combination of too much alcohol and too little sleep. The only splash of colour was the persistent flush that she had come to associate with her dependency on pain medication. A shaking hand found the knob of the faucet, clumsily palming it until it began running the cold water; she allowed the ice-cold water to fill the palm of her hand before splashing it onto her face. Yuri then turned off the faucet and faced the bathtub instead. Her breathing was still laboured and it felt like there was something stuck in her throat. With a frown tugging down on her full mouth, she pushed the stopper into the belly of the tub and turned on the water, allowing it to begin taking purchase within the stone-resin container. 

The entirety of her body was trembling, and she had to use whatever strength she had to hold herself up. She observed the water’s smooth cascade into the sink and thought she understood, for a moment, why Virginia Woolf was drawn to the water, then she thought about her mother and pulled out the stopper. When she was sixteen and had first attempted to do away with herself, following her return home and the crushing realisation that her life would never be the same, her parents had taken her to a therapist.

The doctor had explained to her suicide was unnatural. Even after the young girl said it felt like the only way to get uninterrupted quiet in her chaotic mind, he’d assured him that no matter what, she’d always end up pulling herself out of the water. Every morning, the doctor was proven right. The most base instinct was one of survival. Then there was all the horrors she saw with her eyes closed and water filling her ears. The bad things that happened, the very demons she had been attempting to escape. Splitting pain excited her temples, her stomach, her aching ribs as she thought about it. It was like watching her life shatter over and over and over again, like an unstoppable train crash—one she could neither face nor look away from. 

In a strange way, failure had taught her to stop chasing death as though it would hold all the answers. She began chasing life instead.

— — —

—The sound of screeching tires and the flash of headlights attacked her senses. Images filtered in through the water, creeping past her eyelids and behind her irises, making her see: lights, lights, lights, glass, blood, and mangled metal. A gasp made her mouth fall open, oxygen escaping her lungs in bubbles, and she clenched her fingers around the sink to keep herself down. Just a little longer. Just long enough. The insides of her body were a city fast crumbling down; the bricks of his esophagus disintegrating, the iron dome of her lungs breaking apart, and her heart, her ever faulty heart was the city siren wailing, beating so fast it almost drowned out the sound of the sirens in her eyes, and everything was breaking down so fast it was blocking out the images of the person she had left behind in the car, a person whose face was obscured at this angle. A face she could never see no matter how hard she tried to. Perhaps if she could get around somehow she would be able to see the face that haunted her so.

Just as she was about to break that final wall, she woke up again, the need for air within her dream so powerfully realistic that it made her gasp for oxygen. Spluttering breaths escaped her lips in heaves and wheezes. “God,” She moaned, hot tears stinging her eyes. “Oh, god.” The anxiety was back, clawing through her every breath, and her face was dripping wet, droplets sliding off her chin and hitting the crumpled bedsheets. She slowly opened her eyes, and they widened a fraction in horror when she realised what her face was covered in, what was dripping onto her hands and her sheets—blood.

Fighting down the bile rising up her throat, the woman scrambled out of bed like she’d been burnt, dragging her shaking limbs toward the vanity where she made for a small bottle of vodka she had concealed in her dresser, knowing that it was the only thing that would make her mind calm down. It was the only thing that disappeared the blood on her hands, rendered her hands clean enough to fool her for the day.

When she was finally drunk enough for the noise in her ears to be replaced with a buzzing hum, and her eyes to feel heavy-lidded and halfway asleep, she reached for the diary she always kept on the bedside table. It was leather-bound and the name LILY was etched into its face. 

Yuri never drank enough to be noticed, she drank until the shaking stopped just enough for her to function. It wasn’t something she was proud of, especially as a doctor, her dependency on substances she knew did more harm than good. After eighteen years of suffering, however, one tried just about anything to make the pain stop.

Sometimes, it felt like the pain was a part of her; an invisible appendage, a part of her biology. What else could explain the fact it never went away, no matter how much she tried to dull her senses with whatever she could?

Her bony limbs came crashing back down onto the bed, the diary falling open onto her lap where a pen was already inside. Her hands shook as she began to write, viscous black ink staining the pages in trembling cursive.

Dear Lily,

I think I dreamed of you again. I tried so hard to see your face, but I couldn’t. If our eyes meet, will you let me go? Will you finally forgive me? —

#ummm ok #please take care and don't read if any of the tws bother you #threads;yuri. #001. #blood cw #substance abuse cw #self medication cw #accident cw #nightmare cw #suicidal ideation cw #suicide mention cw #mental illness cw #depression cw #hallucination cw #trauma cw #ptsd cw #disability cw

[speedrex]

THE SHOW WAS STARTING, THE DOOR WAS OPEN, WHAT ELSE COULD HE DO ON A FRIDAY NIGHT? After being turned away multiple times by the bouncers, he had no choice but to use his powers to sneak in. The thing about speed — it goes in a flash. Two steps and you're gone. As the speedster approaches the seat of an unfortunate bystander (you got two legs, you can stand!), the lights dim and the show begins. Of course, it's hokey. But what can you do? The spotlight shines on a lone upright box as the Magician strolls in from the side, sequins reflecting the eye-piercing light. Tyler scoffs at what he sees, looking to his left and right to see who was actually excited to see her, but found the audience surprisingly quiet. Something felt off. ' For a packed show, it seems awfully dead, ' Tyler whispers to himself. ' It's hard to believe she sells out. '

@magikcian.

#001. #HEYYYYYY #LISTEN #HEAR ME OUT FOR A SEC. LET ME COOK

[b1acksuede]

TAG DUMP.

» study : not the words of someone who kneels.

» muse : thrown down to the wolves made feral for nothing.

» aes : sunglasses indoors and par for the course.

» wardrobe : put on your dancing shoes.

» vis : when i say nothing i say everything.

» desires : i’m hungry and the hunger will linger.

» whitelace : like you’re used to being told that you’re trouble.

» main : if not himself then he has naught.

#» study : not the words of someone who kneels. #» muse : thrown down to the wolves made feral for nothing. #» aes : sunglasses indoors and par for the course. #» wardrobe : put on your dancing shoes. #» vis : when i say nothing i say everything. #» desires : i’m hungry and the hunger will linger. #» whitelace : like you’re used to being told that you’re trouble. #» main : if not himself then he has naught. #tag dump. #001.

[godf1les]

MARTINA EVCEN. turca, 23 años. zoopatía en aves. matriculada en ARTES ESCÉNICAS , ranking #102 habitación ALA CENTRO - A307

# sobre ella

los evcen llevan una decente riqueza generacional a base de avicultura en su natal país, turquía. hace menos de una década trajeron la misma a américa, precisamente estados unidos aunque martina creció en canadá con sus hermanos, que son varies.

su talento en la avicultura la predispuso a no querer destacar en nada mas. y con talento es solamente adecuarse a la rutina, & saberse los trucos con las gallinas. claro que un evento que hizo que dejara canada explicó el porqué de ese talento. el componente v habia dado sus frutos.

desde los dieciseis que lleva en américa, estudiando con tutores privados pero su estancia en godolkin estaba ya planeada. no es muy lista, pero logró recomendaciones & el pago de la matricula, ademas de buenas donaciones a la universidad la tienen en la mitad de la carrera.

no tiene mucha visión a futuro, solo desea terminar esa carrera de artes escénicas para volver a canadá con sus gallinas. sin embargo, gusta de divertirse y gastar su dinero en ella y a quienes quiere. es popular en redes por los videos que hacía en su granja en canadá, haciendo conocido el buen trato en las avicolas que tiene la compañía de su familia. ahora aun lo hace, pero no la dejan quedarse en esos lugares mucho tiempo, por lo que se siente mas falsa que nunca.

su poder se expresa en emociones la mayor parte del tiempo, toma medicación para mantenerlo a raya, ya que las aves abundan en la ciudad de nueva york. como las palomas. sin embargo, no evita que si está muy triste, bandadas de palomas a su alrededor pululen triste tambien, y cosas por ese estilo.

# conexiones

compañerxs de facu : es buena onda, y a veces con tal de no hacer nada es capaz de pagar por todo. le gusta ser la bonita del grupo ahr. eso si, le gusta pintar pero de teoria no sabe nada, asi que tambien aceptamos enemies porque saben que las donaciones de su familia la mantienen en su ranking, etc :o

romanticas : lleva dos añitos en godu, y aunque ya va varios años controlando su habilidad, aun depende mucho de las pastillas y es inestable. pudo en algun momento creer e ilusionar a alguien pero luego deshizo todo, y pudo terminar bien o mal. aceptamos cualquiera, es una experta evadiendo, incluso si aun hay sentimientos😭

en general, aceptamos incluso haters/fans bc es influencer de lifestyle creo, anything :)

con emmanuella : roomie actual , tienen la misma chispa & se llevan muy bien desde que las juntaron .

con harper : ex-roomie , fake ex-/ friends .

# etiquetas

˛⠀⠀*⠀⠀𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖊𝖛𝖈𝖊𝖓⠀⠀﹕⠀⠀etiquetas.

#˛⠀⠀*⠀⠀𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖊𝖛𝖈𝖊𝖓⠀⠀﹕⠀⠀sobre ella. #001. #i did my best 💀

[ask-shutter-ghost]

If you could have an exotic pet, what would it be?

Shutter Ghost: Well, I have three "cats" already . . . but if I adopted an exotic pet, maybe I'd get a Venus Flytrap.

----------

Mod Mittens: 1 down, 18 asks to go until I reopen the ask box! Finally catching up with these lol

#001 #001. #Blanky #Void #Pecan #Changeling #Whisp #Shutter Ghost #ask-shutter-ghost #exotic pet #ask-wizard-sunburst

[terrorfying]

#001.

[champhair]

" I didn't think you'd be a big movies girl, Nance. You never did pay too much attention. " His voice is loud enough to hear across the whole store, loud enough to say hello. The Family Video was busier than ever after the quake - a lot of customers looking for a bit of normality afterwards drove business through the roof. Steve can't help but grin as he steps alongside her, looking down at her with his own doe eyes. " Hey. You, uh...looking for anything in particular? I can point you to a good Tom Cruise movie down thataway. Got some documentaries about animals over there. You doing some research? " It's a little scary, really, how easy it's coming back to him. " How are you? "

@screwsnakes.

#001. #HEYYYY

[cordelia-stclaire]

·⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝟎𝟎𝟏. i'm home. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀old hollow hills cemetery ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀cerrado.

⠀⠀⠀Cordelia se encontraba sola entre las filas de lápidas, sus pasos amortiguados por la exuberante hierba bajo sus pies. Su mirada estaba fija en una tumba en particular, oculta bajo la luz moteada que se filtraba a través de los antiguos robles. La tumba exhalaba un aura de significado, un lugar especial que guardaba recuerdos conocidos solo por ella. El ambiente era de reverencia silenciosa mientras el viento llevaba los susurros apacibles de las hojas.

⠀⠀⠀El atuendo de Cordelia era tan elegante como siempre, un vestido negro que revoloteaba en la brisa, un contraste marcado con el entorno que comenzaba a tornarse rojizo por la temporada. Llevaba un ramo de lirios blancos, cuyos pétalos parecían reflejar su propia elegancia distante. Se mantenía erguida, su rostro una máscara de compostura, pero sus ojos delataban los rastros más tenues de emoción.

⠀⠀⠀«Regresar aquí se siente casi... inevitable»—pensó para sí misma mientras se acercaba a la tumba con pasos medidos, sus dedos rozando la superficie fresca de la lápida. Sus labios se curvaron en una sonrisa agridulce, una expresión fugaz que desapareció tan rápido como apareció.

⠀⠀⠀—Siempre supiste apreciar la belleza en la simplicidad. Incluso en este lugar de descanso final.—Susurró y colocó el ramo de lirios con delicadeza frente a la tumba, disponiéndolos con un toque suave. Los pétalos blancos destacaban entre los colores apagados del cementerio. Cordelia se tomó un momento para recoger sus pensamientos, sus dedos recorriendo las palabras grabadas en la lápida.

⠀⠀⠀—Hollow Hills no ha cambiado mucho. El pueblo aún bulle con vida, ajeno a los secretos que guarda cada rincón de este lugar...—pausó un instante para tomar una bocanada de aire.— A menudo me pregunto si encontrarías consuelo en eso, sabiendo que la vida continúa, incluso ante el adiós.

⠀⠀⠀La brisa llevó un suspiro melancólico, como si la propia tierra se uniera a Cordelia en su recuerdo. Bajó la cabeza en un momento de silencio, sus emociones ocultas tras un velo de elegancia. —Nunca llegué a dominar el arte de entender los sentimientos, ¿verdad? Siempre veías más allá de esa fachada.—Se enderezó, su mirada quedando suspendida sobre la tumba por un momento más. El peso de sus emociones no expresadas flotaba en el aire, un reconocimiento silencioso del vínculo que trasciende el tiempo.

⠀⠀⠀Con eso, Cordelia se alejó, sus pasos firmes y gráciles. El ambiente del cementerio absorbió su presencia, permitiendo que los alrededores tranquilos la envolvieran una vez más, mientras el misterio del nombre de la tumba quedaba intacto, como un secreto compartido solo entre Cordelia y las colinas silenciosas.

#001. #closed #old-shh #secret hollow hill