02-21-2017, 11:39 PM
<link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Playfair+Display|Jaldi' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'> <style type="text/css"> .lelianaone_container { position: relative; z-index: 1; background-color: #1C1F1E; width: 600px; box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 1px #000; } .lelianaone_container p { margin: 0; } .lelianaone_image { position: relative; z-index: 4; width: 600px; } .lelianaone_gradient { position: absolute; z-index: 4; width: 100%; height: 513px; top: 396px; background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%, rgba(28,31,30,1) 100%); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(28,31,30,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(28,31,30,1) 100%); filter: progid
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#007db9e8', endColorstr='#1c1f1e',GradientType=0 ); } .lelianaone_text { position: relative; z-index: 5; width: 580px; margin-top: -465px; background-color: rgba(28, 16, 14, 0.9); padding-top: 20px; } .lelianaone_message { position: relative; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify; color: #575f5d; padding: 0px 35px 20px; } .lelianaone_quote { position: relative; text-align: left; color: #5c5c59; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 35px; } .lelianaone_quotebottom { position: relative; text-align: right; color: #5c5c59; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-right: 35px; } </style> <center> <div class="lelianaone_container"> <img class="lelianaone_image" src="https://i.imgsafe.org/aa1c5bd0cb.jpg"> <div class="lelianaone_gradient"></div> <div class="lelianaone_text"> <p class="lelianaone_quote">I waited for something and something died <br>so I waited for nothing and nothing arrived</p> <p class="lelianaone_message">
She had not expected sleep to find her; she had no reason to think that it would. Sleep had become an elusive and wild thing, teasing the edges of her vision, dancing upon the fault lines in her heart, but never reaching forth and claiming her. She spent her nights wandering the lands, revisiting each bruise and each scar, but never truly finding peace. When exhaustion finally claimed her, it was fitful and thin, and when she woke, she felt as tired as if she had never rested at all—her hazel eyes full of grit and fatigue.
So the fact that it came now, as simple as a breath, the waves of it lapping over the edges and pulling her down into its murky depths, was a surprise. Still, she did not fight it. She simply sighed, exhaling all of her sorrow and let her body go lax, her mind giving itself over to the darkness that crept up toward her.
She did not wake when he came to her, when he lowered and wrapped around her, but she still reacted to his warmth, to the familiar press of his body against hers. A soft murmur built in her throat as she shifted, as her snowy wings lifted and draped over his armored back. Her healing seeped from her and into him, reaching for the body that it had come to know so intimately. With each breath, it moved through him, tracing along the edges of muscles and capillaries she had come to know as well as her own heartbeat.
It lit up along the edges of his armor, where bruises blossomed like wildflowers beneath his skin, where the skin ripped apart, where lacerations grew together around clusters of puckered flesh. Each inch was soothed, healed, and when it was done, it returned to her, glowing warmly in her chest as she exhaled slowly, releasing a breath that caused small snowflakes to dance in front of her red muzzle.
Part of her woke then, but only a part, and she didn’t move, didn’t open her eyes. As if this was nothing but a dream that she was scared to break; as if moving would shatter the illusion. She focused on her breath, on the feel of his neck over hers, the warmth of him. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she finally breathed quietly, almost inaudibly, “I need this to be a dream.” Anything else would be too painful.
</p> <p class="lelianaone_quotebottom">it's our dearest ally, it's our closest friend <br>it's our darkest blackout, it's our final end</p> </div> </div> </center>
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#007db9e8', endColorstr='#1c1f1e',GradientType=0 ); } .lelianaone_text { position: relative; z-index: 5; width: 580px; margin-top: -465px; background-color: rgba(28, 16, 14, 0.9); padding-top: 20px; } .lelianaone_message { position: relative; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify; color: #575f5d; padding: 0px 35px 20px; } .lelianaone_quote { position: relative; text-align: left; color: #5c5c59; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 35px; } .lelianaone_quotebottom { position: relative; text-align: right; color: #5c5c59; font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif; font-style: italic; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-right: 35px; } </style> <center> <div class="lelianaone_container"> <img class="lelianaone_image" src="https://i.imgsafe.org/aa1c5bd0cb.jpg"> <div class="lelianaone_gradient"></div> <div class="lelianaone_text"> <p class="lelianaone_quote">I waited for something and something died <br>so I waited for nothing and nothing arrived</p> <p class="lelianaone_message">She had not expected sleep to find her; she had no reason to think that it would. Sleep had become an elusive and wild thing, teasing the edges of her vision, dancing upon the fault lines in her heart, but never reaching forth and claiming her. She spent her nights wandering the lands, revisiting each bruise and each scar, but never truly finding peace. When exhaustion finally claimed her, it was fitful and thin, and when she woke, she felt as tired as if she had never rested at all—her hazel eyes full of grit and fatigue.
So the fact that it came now, as simple as a breath, the waves of it lapping over the edges and pulling her down into its murky depths, was a surprise. Still, she did not fight it. She simply sighed, exhaling all of her sorrow and let her body go lax, her mind giving itself over to the darkness that crept up toward her.
She did not wake when he came to her, when he lowered and wrapped around her, but she still reacted to his warmth, to the familiar press of his body against hers. A soft murmur built in her throat as she shifted, as her snowy wings lifted and draped over his armored back. Her healing seeped from her and into him, reaching for the body that it had come to know so intimately. With each breath, it moved through him, tracing along the edges of muscles and capillaries she had come to know as well as her own heartbeat.
It lit up along the edges of his armor, where bruises blossomed like wildflowers beneath his skin, where the skin ripped apart, where lacerations grew together around clusters of puckered flesh. Each inch was soothed, healed, and when it was done, it returned to her, glowing warmly in her chest as she exhaled slowly, releasing a breath that caused small snowflakes to dance in front of her red muzzle.
Part of her woke then, but only a part, and she didn’t move, didn’t open her eyes. As if this was nothing but a dream that she was scared to break; as if moving would shatter the illusion. She focused on her breath, on the feel of his neck over hers, the warmth of him. A single tear slipped down her cheek as she finally breathed quietly, almost inaudibly, “I need this to be a dream.” Anything else would be too painful.
</p> <p class="lelianaone_quotebottom">it's our dearest ally, it's our closest friend <br>it's our darkest blackout, it's our final end</p> </div> </div> </center>
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the heaviness in my heart belongs to gravity