XLPendergast

Wolfblood

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Homesick by KaseyKillface, literature

Literature

Homesick

I am the river's son, my arteries flowing turquoise and turning to rapids rushing around my frame, filling me with this sense of buoyancy, minnows tickling my sternum. I am the river's son. My palms caress each silty shoreline, every battered bank and bend, and these places I know so well become me as my fingerprint, even the bridge above me inflamed by the afternoon sun-glow, burning rusty and blood-orange against the steel blue sky. I am the river's son; I bring my home along like hermit crab, where I step I pull water from the earth.

The Child of a Witch or Flower Thorn 18 by thedorkzone001, literature

Literature

The Child of a Witch or Flower Thorn 18

The Child of a Witch or Flower Thorn 18 - Tears Dated November 10 of 2013 The lines on your back forms branches, and the ones on your chest are like rivers around your heart. Both give you pain, yet you still get up each time they bring you to your knees. Covering your mouth with your hands and swallowing the red stains on your lips, under your breath you curse existence of those who are living and dead, but then you begin to beg for more time. My hana, deadly and lovely, you are still the only who possess what is no one else’s. You’re the one who I want to save most of all, and truly when I saw the little girl in you had died

A Dignified Game of Poker by Same-side, literature

Literature

A Dignified Game of Poker

(Lights up on a modest kitchen. MAN and WOMAN are standing, facing each other. WOMAN is seen poking her stomach with an invisible knife as MAN looks on.)WOMAN My stomach hurts. When I poke it. Does yours? MAN No, stop poking it. Knives are for cutting, anyway. Not for poking. WOMAN (still poking) Who are you to tell me what to do? MAN Darling, you said you loved me...once. Isn't that enough? WOMAN I don't remember what I said. I could have been on hallucinogens at the time, or benzos, or catfood. MAN Were you? WOMAN If I hadn't taken them, my

About XLPendergast

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Artist // Student // Literature

May 2
United States
Deviant for 13 years
www.fanfiction.net/u/5401506/PaperFalcons
She / Her

Badges

My Bio

They used to ask me about that photograph sitting in its gilded frame on my desk. It seemed that practically every client of mines would sit across from me, and when their eyes fell on the photo, they would remark at her beauty, their voices softened in awe.

Certainty she must be some form of an ethereal being; an angel perhaps? I would smile bitterly at that. If only they knew that behind her mask of beauty a demon lay.

Favourite Visual Artist

Charley Chase

Favourite Movies

Asian Dramas

Favourite TV Shows

Supernatural, Wolfblood, Buffy, City Hunter

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

t.A.T.u

Favourite Books

The Pendergast novels by Preston & Child

Favourite Writers

Preston & Child

Favourite Games

Mind Games.

Favourite Gaming Platform

Words, Minds. I don't game like you do.

Tools of the Trade

Whatever is close at hand.

Other Interests

Fighting. I have a great love for playing these horrible little mind game. Breaking people is my secret pleasure. But, Shhh. Don't tell that I told you!

Posts

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XLPendergast

Nov 15, 2013

Innuendo

0 min read

Don’t think That I don’t see Her hips Sway in time to   Each blink that surveys her,   Staring at   The endless wasteful energy   She pours forth her   Erotic ambiguity.   Don’t think That I don’t see   Her essence Dripping out of her pores like   Music notes drunk   On moonlight debris.

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XLPendergast

Nov 14, 2013

Sin-

0 min read

"It is always like this," She whispers more to herself then to her companion. “It's your fear holding you back,” He says to her, pained. "I never could keep up pretenses; Not this, not even friendship." Her brows furrow. She hears his words but does not acknowledge; her mined flies back in time, unlocking a long forgotten door. Memories, long since starved, dusty, broken beyond recognition raise their heads weakly, eyes snapping, raging at her. She cringes, eyes lowering to the ground. "I am sorry," she whispers. "Forgiveness I know I cannot ever hope to ask for. I..." she trails off, staring at the broken creature at her feet.

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XLPendergast

Oct 31, 2013

This is Just to Say

0 min read

This Is Just to Say I have shunned the child who came unto me eyes wide, barefoot. [I've] ignored pitiful mewls begging me to spare a bob; I shoved in disdain unclean hands from barracan skirts. Forgive me for being nothing more than a noble woman.