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Phantomhive. Earl & Watchdog.
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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❝    i             love            you       i  promise  i  always  will      &      i       chose        you      forever …                                        …  i’ll  choose  you  still ❞
greek  mythology’s  ARTEMIS ! an    independent    oc highly  sel  &  mused   by   itsu -  read  rules  before  interacting  - *art credit rightfully belongs to @athenistics​ !
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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💫💕 daily reminder of how important you are and there are people who love you and we are glad you exist! 💕💫
YOU.ARE.AMAZING!Thank you so much.
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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RISEN. he can tell the difference once he names the creature. whilst still wild & blazing with hellfire, the creature seems to be more subdued - restrained. he watches with fascination as the other changes, form after form, & finally taking one that is of a mutt. he can’t tear his eyes away from the flaming one. it is addictive in watching how the power balance shifts from his captors to a single intruder. yet, the very same power seems to be rushing through his veins, filling him even as his body cries from the lack of nourishment. yes, yes yes, his head sings. the voice rings with bloodlust & satisfaction as he takes in the retribution that the other humans have. ciel crawls closer to the front of his cage, each finger wrapping the rust-coated iron bar as he pulls himself closer. such thrill is so new to him but he understands it - & wants more.
           it is weird for him to face the creature with anything but fear. wide eyes meet the hound’s & ciel feels drawn to it. ciel bristles at the words, the feelings of indignation & chagrin rise in him but he no words of protest leaves his mouth. not now. it isn’t his time. not yet.
           he backs away from the bars for more space for the mutt to work with & gets to his feet as he waits. whatever the hound is doing, & whatever that is happening, he is taking all these in stride. he knows now that this is the chance for him to wield incredible power & change whatever that has been his reality. walking out of the cage, ciel surveys the room. things do look different from a different perspective, on a higher ground. he likes it.
           finally, his eyes lands on the hound. he takes a couple of steps closer to it - cain - & reaches out. his gaze locks with the other’s, eyes daring the other to do something about it. gently, he cards his fingers through the silky black locks, while surprise fills his visage. the hellfire doesn’t affect him - perhaps… it has to be something that the mutt is doing. schooling his expression into something serious, the boy draws a deep breath. “i have given you a name, haven’t i? my part is already done, hellhound. give me your seal & place it wherever you want.”
                   carmine optics blaze with the heat of eternal damnation and... surprise. child earl dares to run his filthy finger through malevolent beast’s tarry coat of living flames. such scorching flames could easily consume the pathetic mortal, withering human flesh like the flowers of the field. though the demon be borne from the sins of Adam’s abandonment and adulterous nature, the demon himself is loyally and legally bound by the laws of the unearthly Kingdom. and thus, he refrains from reducing the boy to a mere pile of ashes.                  ❛ insolent brat. you amuse me with your thirst for power. a natural-born leader. yet you reign with an iron rod meant to smite all the nations under your feet. your lack of mercy meets mine own. ❜ snarling monster dog touches slimy nostrils to the tiny child’s brow, breathing in the scent of the mortal’s soul: it reeks of sulfur, of years and years of sand and snow burying all lily whiteness, staining the heart with death and decay. how pitiful that a lifetime of innocence could be lost in a matter of months. how disgusting it is that humans treat their brethren, borne of common ancestry.                demonic hellhound exhales his breath of life. the hellish fumes carve glowing crimson embers into the child’s eye. red is the color of life, that of his own and that of the child’s: ‘tis the one (and only) thing they will ever share in common. the scent of his breath is not the sweetest as that of angels, nor is it sourest as that of most demons. it is as musky as a canine’s winter coat and as smoky and burning charcoal. why he does not stink as most demons do, is simply because he himself was once a guardian angel, a guard dog, for another pitiful child. and the ways of angels are all too familiar to him. it is best for demons to be discrete, so as not to draw the attention of exorcists quick to cast them out of their strongholds.               slowly, he withdraws, shaking away the child’s touch with guttural grunt.    ❛ the more visible the contract, the more powerful it remains. now that your eye bears the mark of mine own... we will see eye-to-eye, little one. ❜ the beast mutter incoherent words, a language mimicking the Holy Spirit’s tongue. he breaks the seal on the chamber doors, bringing down the great gates as the rays of light flood into the main the sanctuary.  ❛ you are filthy, boy. ❜
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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character moodboard: sirius orion black
what’s life without a little risk?
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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         harry potter moodboards | remus lupin
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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Johnlock
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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hp moodboards: remus lupin
“it is the quality of one’s convictions that determines success, not the number of followers. ”
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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Male INTJ Aries Ravenclaw for @jessicalangeslefttit
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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INTJ 5w6 male Ravenclaw, Neutral Good
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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Appreciation post for the color brown {♡}
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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House Common Room aesthetics - Ravenclaw Tower
Hufflepuff | Gryffindor | Slytherin
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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moodboards ➳ ravenclaw
“where those of wit and learning, will always find their kind.”
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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ravenclaw//feelings
Vellichor n. the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time—filled with thousands of old books you’ll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day they were captured.
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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omgcica
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empticium-blog · 8 years ago
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omgcica
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