blue-haired, blue-eyed beauty 🦋
blue-haired, blue-eyed beauty 🦋
The prettiest boy. Done in watercolor pencils （ ´∀｀）not looking for criticism, so keep it to yourself ♡
it had that rhythm. The feeling of a “once upon a time” story,So it feels only right to start it like that.
Once upon a time a mysterious stranger with blue hair and a black cape covering his face stood over my corpse telling me he was Death.
It was cold. Being dead, that is. Not like being in the rain cold. More like Being under a cosy blanket but your legs being frozen and shivering. He was looking over me but I couldn’t see his eyes. Just a few blue tufts. I reached my hands out like a baby for his blue tufts. And like a silly baby i could not reach them
“Loralie Keats” his thundering voice echoed.
“Yes Mr Blue Hair”
“I have come to take your soul”
My soul.I’d always been told that God himself comes to take your soul back. I always thought it was strange; People called it “my immortal soul” So how could it belong to God if it was mine? Why was Mr Blue Hair so omminously straightforward? “Your soul” he said in his gloomy voice.
“I don’t want you to have it,” I admitted.
I tried to stand but my legs were asleep until I remembered that I was dead. Mr Blue Hair made no attempt to help me. How rude. I used my arms to sit, happy that they still worked. Though i tried to look towards my useless legs my shirt distracted me.
I was happy I had died in my purple butterfly shirt.
“You don’t have an option. I need you to exit your body Miss Keats”
“No, if you want it so bad buy it”
“I have. When your heart stopped beating is when i bought it”
How could I deny the obvious. He payed with his touch. I always knew I could never be a seller. My soul was my chamber of secrets.How could i simply give it away.
“I can’t give you my soul Mr Blue Hair”
“Why not? My records show that you did not sell your soul beforehand”
“I know It’s just that I’m in love with my soul. It’s so beautiful”
Death did not care. He kept his shadowed gaze on me as I decayed on the bloodied linoleum kitchen floor. I suppose I should’ve relented sooner. Death is always busy. I had, in that moment, wondered who had died before and after me.
“I don’t want to die completely”
“Then why stick a knife in your chest?”
“Because i wanted to kiss the love of my life and this was the only way”
I stood. I looked down at her. The love of my life. Loralie Keats.He favourite purple butterfly shit covered in blackened blood. A kitchen knife hiding the body of the sequined butterfly. The hour struck three as the orange cuckoo bird leaped from it’s hidden nest to greet the dead girl; witnessing, apathetically, at my beloved’s painful demise.
“Are you ready to go?” I shook my head. Kneeling beside her, staring deeply at her glazed eyes and her chapped lips, I leaned in for a single kiss from my transparent lips. a sadness shook me as my sleeping beauty did not wake.
“let’s go now Mr Blue Hair”
coincidentally, and after
In case you can’t tell, I love this snapchat filter
Finna slap slap slap clap clap clap them cheeks 👌🏻
I cut my hair plus now it’s blue and my skirt is wrinkled 🖤💙
Hello I am here and here I am
Apparently I never posted this here, whoops
RPG dude, main protagonist. Starts off the adventure all moody because his sister died, but pretty quickly starts becoming more animated as he meets new people and gets into weirder situations
His hair, along with most every other party member’s hair, is unusually colored due to inheriting the Heroic Willpower of age old, legendary heroes
A friend says Determination should be red, as a shout out to UnderTale, which I am seriously considering
“I’m a bitch, I’m a boss, I’m a bitch and boss” 🎶🎵
teal teal teal yeah!!!!