#♔;; v ╚ main ╗

[drachliebe]

// i was gonna wait and post these scibbles on father's day , but....

[opyre]

“ Do you remember the time when we drank so much milk it spilled all over , and the maids thought you had an accident ? ” :) ⸻ @glacierites

𝓐  sudden  embarrassment  tinges  his  cheeks  a  shade  of  pink  ,  spreading  rather  quickly  to  the  tips  of  his  ears  .  despite  it  ,  he  recalls  the  memory  fondly  ,  as  it  is  not  often  that  he  recalls  such  pleasantries  from  the  past  they  shared  .  she  reminds  him  that  there  was  a  time  where  things  were  more  peaceful  ;  when  they  were  ignorant  enough  to  find  some  form  of  bliss  in  their  day  -  to  -  day  .〝   to  think  i  had  let  myself  forget  .〝   he  offers  a  chuckle  that  almost  sounds  half  -  miserable  .  there  are  many  emotions  to  feel  regarding  what  once  was  ,  but  he'd  opt  to  relish  in  the  joys  of  it  ,  if  only  for  a  moment  ,  deserving  of  it  or  not  .

〝   they  rushed  me  quite  promptly  to  my  quarters  .  it  was  a  rather  awkward  sequence  of  events  when  all  was  said  and  done  .〝   he  smiles  at  her  briefly  ,  〝   and  you  stayed  quiet  ,  as  if  you  hadn't  a  clue  .〝

[destrozcs]

@ncthiingness || cont.

♔—;; It was an idea that had plagued him for weeks before he finally decided to do something about it, and even now his pride warred with his desire. He had options when it came to this, but Edrad seemed to be the better choice; experienced, and less inclined to hold it over his head for any reason.

His answer surprised him, however.

The Sexta was certain he'd heard incorrectly—surely Edrad hadn't denied him just now. He failed to see how his proposition wouldn't appeal to him.

"What do you mean no?" he asked, almost incredulous.

[fiercerebekah]

❝Hello, dear sister, REMEMBER me? It has been a few years since we last saw each other.❞

@evolvingheartisms

               Rebekah was back in New Orleans for a jazz festival. One last hoorah to end her three-year tour around the world. During her travels she'd had time to reminisce over the many different lives she'd led over the centuries, and what she'd discovered was that there was something truly SPECIAL about this city. It had a way of evoking feelings of nostalgia that that were so much more intense than anything she'd felt in all the other places she'd called home. Perhaps thats why returning was so difficult.

Naturally, she was getting good and liquored up on her balcony overlooking the festivities on bourbon street, enjoying the jazz and feeling a bit sorry for herself, when she was interrupted. Surely this lurker was the luckiest man in the French Quarter, as Rebekah didn't snap his neck on sight for disrupting her. In fact, she found that his presence stirred up more of that SENTIMENTAL LONGING she'd been hanging onto.

DAMN HER SOFT HEART for having hope in the moment, however fleeting or daft it might have been. There was just something so FAMILIAR in the stranger's eyes, that she allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy she was creating for herself, ❛ Elijah? ❜ She said it so softly, unsure if she wanted his answer.

[arroganced]

anyone who's willing to sacrifice their own flesh and blood can never truly be trusted . ( but its like about something so small and dumb )

“ it was a joooooooooke. ” it was not a joke. the car tire was flat, it looked like it was about to rain, and they were stopped in the absolute middle of nowhere. not really, but they only had one bar on their phones and it wasn't doing anything. “ i was just sayin' if you talked to that person standin' over there, we'd have a better chance of getting help. you got better eyes than i do and uh, yeah. i can't see anything, i think my contacts are dryin' out. ” a lie, he had eye drops. deft fingers run through curls, nails digging through his scalp as he purposely honks the horn. the two of them weren't alone except for someone standing in the distance doing something inconspicuous [ to chad ], but he did not want to leave the car. “ you're wearing your lucky sweater today and i look rough. what if they think i'm ugly and decide to beat me up ? then we'll both be out of luck. ”

[crownmarked]

tagdrop ii.

[gliitched-realiity]

Anonymous asked: ✉ from Glitch to Vincent omg please

TXT MEME.  || Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT.

Glitch could barely think, if it was being entirely honest with itself. A terrible migraine had settled into its skull, the world was blurring slightly from all the wine he had drank in the past few hours, and he was fairly certain that he had accidentally hurt its already-damaged shoulders from exactly how tensed-up he'd been all night. How an ordinary evening at home alone had turned into... this, the Fracture didn't know.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. He could guess at how things had escalated into something so dreadful, at least. The original plan had been to rest at its apartment, drink until the awful sensations that had plagued its body all day were finally numbed, and then maybe, just maybe, try to get some sleep... None of that had ended up happening, clearly. Instead, he had found himself sprawled out across his leather sofa — drunk, muscles aching, with a screaming headache.

And nothing else that he'd been trying to numb had improved, either.

Too-quick movements, Glitch suddenly shifted to grab his cellphone from where it had previously been discarded onto the coffee-table. There had to be something he could do about this, even if he couldn't ——

        feed

               hunt

—— kill anyone, right now.

[✉ → Vincent]  Are you busy?

No, worrying the precious little dove wouldn't do any good. And surely, a question like that would do exactly that.

[✉ → Vincent]  Do I still have wine at your house?

Desperation, at best. Even if there was extra wine, laced or not, at Vincent's apartment, that wouldn't really matter. That wasn't ENOUGH for how fucking bad this had gotten.

A frustrated growl formed in its throat, cellphone angrily thrown to the side — clattering noisily against the end-table without a text sent.

     ❝ Damn it — ❞

His throat was absolutely on fire; it felt like somebody had shoved a lit match down it while simultaneously holding the point of a dagger against his vocal chords. That terrible gnawing pain had settled into its stomach again. Beyond the pains, he was starting to feel downright dizzy — and as much as he wanted to blame the alcohol, that had been happening all fucking day, so he knew that wasn't actually the problem. Everything ached, even muscles that didn't usually cause him grief, and at this point, it was starting to feel like the universe was playing some sort of sick joke on his nervous system.

   Fuck, he was so HUNGRY.

The next several... ( minutes? hours? it was getting difficult to keep track of time with how hazy his mind had gotten ) ... were a distressing blur that, in all honesty, he'd entirely lost track of. There was too much of everything — too much pain, too much disorientation, too many intrusive thoughts to even keep track of where one started and another ended.

When the world finally tried to refocus, the taste of fresh blood was pooling in his mouth. A brief moment of ecstasy flooded through it, back arching slightly, a low whimper of unadulterated NEED slipping out from its lips.

       Fuck, more. Please —

Crimson eyes snapped open abruptly, a gasp echoing through the otherwise silent walls of his apartment, as the sharp pain in his own wrist actually registered. And for a minute, he sincerely had to debate if he actually cared that it was his own blood, that this wasn't actually going to make the hunger stop for very long, that the years of self-destruction for the sake of easily-accessed blood were supposed to be OVER.

After a moment's struggle, it finally managed to force its own fangs away from its skin. The bite-mark left behind wasn't terrible, in the grand scheme of things, but the distinct puncture wounds were undeniable. A greedy tongue swept out over them, lapping away at the bloody injury until supernatural healing, inevitably, started to try to knit the skin back together.

It shouldn't have been so fucking easy for those to close, damn it.

In the aftermath, Glitch was panting, breathes hitched with some twisted cocktail of hunger, lust, and distress. Pale fingers twisted, roughly tugging at a ruby tie to loosen it — anything to take some of the pressure out of his burning throat. He desperately needed to FOCUS, he knew, but trying to do that was... easier said than done.

Minutes passed in silence, save for its heavy breathing and the muffled buzz of household appliances that always felt a little too loud when nobody was making sound in the apartment. Dual auras flickered harshly around it, a harsh contrast to the otherwise dark room, vibrant colors twisting and flaring alongside the seemingly endless series of emotional flips.

When he could finally halfway form rational thoughts again, though they still felt dreadfully 'to the left', he tried to reevaluate the situation:

Why did you bite yourself? You haven't done something like that in ages.

Starving vampires do strange things, don't they?

Right. Of course that was the problem; he was fucking HUNGRY, because he hadn't been able to hunt in over a month, so he'd finally slipped up. Nobody could expect a vampire to spend that much time without feeding and then NOT end up struggling ——

—— No, no, no, STOP.

   You're a Fracture.

      You are a FRACTURE.

   You are not a —

Something hauntingly similar to dysphoria sparked before he could even finish that thought, a visceral growl tearing its way from his throat. Disgusting. Everything about this was DISGUSTING. Damn it, why wasn't it —

You're NOT a vampire. You're a Fracture.

   You are not —

FUCK.

         ❝ Fuck! ❞

The curse was shouted into an empty apartment, echoing off the walls, a shrill ringing briefly filling the room before it was forcibly silenced. Immediately, a terrible cough followed the curse, as the Fracture's hand flew to his own neck, trying miserably to sooth that awful burn as it flared again. Tears briefly stung at its eyes before they were harshly blinked away, and then he moved to pick his cellphone back up.

[✉ → Reese]  I need your help.

No, even they would think that he was fucking crazy for whatever this spiral was. Hell, even he was starting to wonder if its sanity had finally cracked a bit too far.

[✉ → Vincent]  I think this fixation shit is getting worse. I feel fucking crazy & I don't know what to do.

But could he really say that to his host, of all people? Not hardly. Surely if the Fracture was suffering this much, then somewhere in the depths of Vincent's mind, he wasn't well either. Either that was the case, or Glitch was just finally snapping itself, and regardless of which this may have been...

No, it wasn't rational to reach out to its host right now. Perhaps they needed to discuss the topic later, but right now, in the middle of these agonizing spirals, that wasn't going to work out.

Fuck, he was so hungry. And when had he started actually crying — ?

[✉ → Anti]  Please come over. I need blood. Now.

[opyre]

and his tenderness still is unbeknownst to him ; some ingredient that shifts between and within the very make of his person , the fabrication of his cells . he is not tender , rather , tenderness is him . wholly and completely . even his wrath , despite his inability to hold it within his hands , is ruled by the warm light of a campfire . the heat of an inferno , the sacrificial wings of a bird that is to be martyred before its kingdom in a fit of disgrace ; madness . he is to never lose his composure , lest he be crowned duke of scorn . these thoughts stay with him like an old scar , wounds bound with time , flesh ever - marred .

still , when he meets jote's eyes , he is greeted with the present , and what is he feels is forbidden even by the thoughts of his own . life has played them a cruel hand , certainly . she dodges his glance just long enough to leave him hollow , cold , yearning for the hand that clasps around his in a moment's disappearance . he is graced , in the moment that their fingers lay platonically atop one another's , by an angel of divine spirit ; overwhelmed with something he will never accept as his .

her honesty is present in the way it always is , the way he has grown to know so well , and he is grateful for her transparency in a world built on fallacies . yet , he doubts . . . he doubts because there is something so far within his heart , born of the way he was raised , that he cannot trust the tenderhearted intentions of anyone , let alone someone who offers him protection . that is a wound of his that has known no healing .

❛ tell me , jote . if i were not - ❜ he halts his words , despite the serious press of his initial tone , knowing they are akin to sacrilege in a religion born of his existence , ❛ apologies . . . the thought slipped my mind before i could voice it . ❜ a lie ; an obvious one at that , as he is not one who often ' forgets ' , always speaking with meaning and well - thought intention . he supposes even now , he's let his guard down with her . . . as he's often guilty of doing . ❛ i am grateful to you . you do know that , i'm sure . ❜ and he dismisses himself , as if what he's said matters not at all in the tragedy that is their path .

there was something in his gaze that nearly hard her turn away, a tenderness that made her feel as though

his hand wrapped around her wrist, & she suddenly forgot what it meant to breathe. the gentle caress of his fingers against her skin brought heat & a flush to her face–––– one of the infinite reminders that the undying could never fully train the human out of her, that there was a living soul within her that could not be trained away.

jote was not so bold as to call him her home. though she returned the sentiment, it would be far too familiar for her station ( & she forced herself to remember that he could not mean it with the same conviction that she would ), but she would not let him think that she would ever consider changing her mind.

“ make no mistake, your grace, ” her words were gentle, but stern. her wish for him to know that she spoke in simple truths was clear in every syllable. this was, very likely, the closest she would ever allow herself to get to a true order in a moment that had nothing to do with his safety. “ the only way i would ever forsake myself on this journey is if i were to leave you. ”

she took her free hand into her own, a motion that she knew she could only manage because they were alone. in her heart, it was a necessity. she needed him to know that she meant this. “ there is no order that could tether me to you more than my own desire. ”

[opyre]

���  are you saying this because it's the right thing , or because you really want to go ?〝 ⸻ @valistheanshield

𝓦hat  is  right  often  defies  all  want  or  desire  ;  he  knows  this  truth  so  painfully  well  .  still  ,  clive  speaks  ,  and  a  certain  defense  bubbles  from  the  depths  of  his  heart  .  something  born  many  moons  ago  ,  still  planted  in  the  grave  of  their  past  ;  a  death  he  does  not  long  to  dig  for  .  his  head  cants  from  side  to  side  ,  golden  fringe  tickling  his  cheeks  as  it  sifts  with  his  movement  ;  he  can  hold  his  own  now  ,  most  of  the  time  ,  and  this  incessant  need  to  prove  himself  so  stems  from  his  brother's  inability  to  accept  it  .  he  sighs  quietly  ,  and  his  words  pass  his  lips  like  an  aching  revelation  riddled  with  disappointment  ,  〝  you  still  doubt  me  .〝

he  straightens  his  back  despite  the  pain  that  manifests  in  his  chest  .  he  is  stronger  than  he  used  to  be  ,  braver  ,  ever  -  willing  to  put  his  life  on  the  line  in  service  to  others  in  the  belief  that  such  a  notion  should  be  well  -  received  ,  despite  who  knows  it  .  〝  i  am  going  with  you  ,  brother  .  it  was  not  a  request  .〝

[officialren]

◞ ⠀ * ♔   ﹑ meet 𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀 ; main dancer, sub vocalist, visual, & center for the fictional kpop group, v-3nom, under the company iNKODE ENTERTAINMENT. set to debut on august 1st, 2024, ren has already amassed a huge following of his own for his visuals & charismatic personality, which has granted him both modeling opportunities & the chance to host his own show, ren's world, where he does an interview & a fun activity with that week's special guest, as well as gifting them a custom present for their appearance.

﹟ 𝑶𝑭𝑭𝑰𝑪𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑹𝑬𝑵 : masterlist. google doc. emoji anons.

want to be a guest on ren's world? just send a message with your oc's details, such as name, age, & if they're in a specific group or are a soloist, & we'll exchange details for interviews!

[rosietrace]

Sumeragi Yuuta; Moodboard

▹ †𝆤࿙๋࿙࿚⊱♔⊰࿙࿚๋࿚𝆤†

【 ♛ 】 Sumeragi Yuuta, the not so golden prefect of Ramshackle 💸

Main inspiration from Mammon from “Obey me”, Scrooge McDuck “DuckTales”, and Kaz Brekker “Six of Crows”

   ˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ Main story: Night Raven College, the golden rule

Face Claim; Nakamoto Yuta from NCT

V/A: Uchida Yuma (内田 雄馬)

Theme; FINNEAS, Medieval

[opyre]

she speaks an honest tongue - too honest , he thinks , as his likeness for a response evades him . instead , he is left in hanging moments of melancholic silence and bitter stillness , eyes left gazing upon her , while his vision loses all hold on reality . her immediate doubt was not something he accounted , nor was it something he expected from anyone who held him closer than arm's length . . . though , he supposes who they were before all of this could have something to do with their present predicament . but , time has turned them into different people , and he decides his yearning to know her once more would be sated even in moments of discontentment .

she apologizes shortly after , and it is enough to bring him back to valisthea , but only enough that he might form a response ; his feet still feel as though they can't touch the ground . ❛ it's alright . ❜ he assures her , despite the lack of assurance in himself . realizing quickly that she is more perceptive than she lets on , he feels he can no longer hide himself beneath the guise of politeness ; his deceit is transparent , and she would have him know of it .

he's almost silent as he takes his seat on the nearby stairs , awaiting her presence aside him . he draws a breath through his teeth and leans against his elbows , now draped across his knees . there is stress merely in the way he carries himself , the way he sits as the heaviness of the air becomes obvious through its weighted movement in his lungs .

❛ i do not mind . . . i invited you , after all . ❜ he offers a half - hearted smile , something sympathetic , but genuine , and sighs , ❛ it's been some time . ❜ a breathy chuckle slips past his lips , guilty , ❛ you don't hold back , do you ? ❜

he gives himself a pause , thinking . . . perhaps there's much she holds back ; concern being least of it . maybe she hasn't changed quite as much as he'd like to think .

❛ it's my apologies for worrying you . i am the one who should be sorry . i know . . . things have certainly changed . and greatly , too . i . . . don't suppose it will do anyone well to continue lying in the face of confidence . ❜ and he'd like to proceed in catching up over the events that have transpired over the past many years , but he cannot bring himself to proceed in the conversation that he'd started .

i am well. it felt like a half––––truth, as though his body & mind were well but his heart was not. even his smile did not quite bring the warmth that she had come to expect from him. she didn't wish to pry & further than he would want, but she couldn't help but let out a soft, concerned, ❛ are you? ❜ before she could stop herself. clearly, her own question had surprised her, & she shook her head as though she could take the words back that way. ❛ i'm sorry. i don't mean to intrude, i just... ❜ worried for him were the words that lingered on her tongue, but it quickly became another unfinished sentence, fading with a soght sigh. instead, her head turned to hide her unsettled expression before he could comment on what she would bet that joshua would consider nothing but undue worry.

❛ it's no trouble. really. ❜ in the brief moment of silence, tifa sought to reassure him. they were friends, after all–––– & there began the train of thought that she had hoped not to begin to follow. they had been friends once in a time so far away that it sometimes felt like a dream from her childhood or some far off world that she had been allowed to see, if just for an instant. though her heart longed for the connection they had once had, she would not push. he deserved the opportunity to pass judgment on the woman who stood before him now & not forced to make assumptions based on the child that he had once known.

with her thoughts heading in the direction they were, his request caught her off guard. she wished she'd had something more intelligent to say in response, but she found herself speaking a soft, brief, ❛ me? ❜ as though she could see someone else lingering in the darkness. she hardly felt presentable enough to sit beside him. she was still dressed in the simple clothes she wore to tend the bar counter, & she no doubt smelled of the compound she had used to clean the tub & crown & the ale she'd been serving. she almost declined for no reason other than propriety.

but something stopped her before she could. the longing to properly rekindle a friendship that she'd once thought torn from her forever. the realization that this may be the only opportunity they'd get in quite some time to be truly alone together. she would not let this chance slip through her fingers.

 ❛ sorry, ❜ came the brief apology for her outburst. ❛ i'd be happy to sit with you. ❜ & there was the truth. no matter her surprise, her concern, joshua could have asked for few things that would have made her happier. her arms gestured to herself, bringing attention to the state of her attire. ❛ as long as you don't mind, of course. ❜

[divide-et-impera-rpg]

Depuis 1989 et le retour de la monarchie en France, la maison de Bourbon possède le pouvoir afin de préserver la paix entre sorciers et non sorciers. Cette monarchie de nouveau insérée au sein du pays instaure une nouvelle façon de vivre pour les français. Ils se retrouvent de nouveau hiérarchisés en fonction de leur titre, si dans un premier temps les membres de la famille royale n’en profitent pas, il semblerait que les temps changent. C’est ainsi que vous trouverez à la suite la liste des personnages de la famille royale jouables sur le forum.

maison de bourbon

Héritiers du roi soleil, la famille de Bourbon a fait partie des premiers partisans d’un retour au calme suite à la guerre civile magique et celle avec les moldus. Sachant parfaitement qu’ils pouvaient acquérir une partie de la société magique à la cause, ils se sont liés aux Flamel les seuls pouvant leur permettre d’accéder au trône. Récupérant la couronne en 1989, suite au référendum magique et moldu, ils gouvernent d’une main de maître, imposant en délicatesse certains changements. Leur ambition étant de reprendre la place que leur famille possédait, il souhaitent revenir vers une monarchie absolue, mais cela risque de se compliquer par la suite.

Première Branche † Alphonse de Bourbon, 78 ans (né en 1945 - décédé en 1986) X Carmen de Bourbon née Martínez-Bordiú y Franco, 76 ans (née en 1947), reine mère. X ♔ Henri de Bourbon, 58 ans (né en 1965), roi de France (PNJ du forum) X Charles d’Orléans, né de Bourbon, 55 ans (né en 1968) Monsieur. X Claude de Savoie, née de Bourbon, 50 ans (née de 1973) ➜ Voir la famille de Savoie. Deuxième Branche X ♔ Henri de Bourbon, 58 ans (né en 1965), roi de France. (PNJ du forum) X ♕ Sybilla de Bourbon, née de Grèce, 58 ans (née en 1965), reine de France. V Louis de Bourbon, 25 ans, (né en 1998), dauphin de France. V Anne de Bourbon, 23 ans (née 2000), princesse de France. V Antoine de Bourbon, 20 ans (née en 2003), prince de France. Troisième Branche X Charles d’Orléans, né de Bourbon, 55 ans (né en 1968) Monsieur. X Laetitia d’Orléans, née de Nassau, 54 ans (née en 1969) Madame. X Emilien d’Orléans, 30 ans (né en 1993).

[quinncess]

"How did you get this scar?"

soft angst | @webheadedhero

                    it's  been  a  while  since  she's  used  peter's  place  as  a  hideout,  but  given  the  current  state  of  things  in  gotham,  she's  back  for  the  indefinite  future.  until  she  gets  too  antsy  to  continue  laying  low.    for  now  though,  she's  happy  to  relax  on  his  couch,  in  an  oversized  shirt  that  she  might  have  stolen  from  peter's  dresser.  without  all  the  layers  of  necklaces  she'd  usually  wear  to  conceal  the  ANGRY  PINK  SCAR  across  her  jugular.    ❛  what,  this  old  thing?  ❜    she  taps  the  raised  skin,  and  it  triggers  something  in  her  that  makes  her  shiver.    not  in  the  good  way  either.  so  she  stops  that  pretty  quick,  and  adjusts  her  hair  to  fall  over  the  mark.    ❛  ya  know,  just  a  clown  groupie  with  anger  issues  and  a  box  cutter.  or  some  typa  dagger  -  i  can't  remember  it  real  well,  seeing  as  how  i  ended  up  bleeding  out  in  a  gutter.  ❜  

[destruczion]

.

[opyre]

❝ there’s no time for sentimentality. ❞ ⸻ @blighteds ( anabella ) .

and there is a softness in his heart that begs for forgiveness , begs to forgive , to forgive , forgive . he's unsure if he can , unsure if he will . he stands before her and the her presence is the same domineering shadow it always has been . it zaps the peace from his lifeforce and leaves him struggling to hold himself in the present , in reality . he feels shackled to his past for this moment , and he thinks of clive . ever - bound to what was , wishing to free himself into what will be . joshua oft exists in what is , whether what is may prove a ghost of his former self , or the haunt of his very existence , a blight on this land that he wishes to preserve . to heal .

his voice wavers , and he succumbs to quiet . silence sits with them like a third entity for some time . he shatters it , ❛ i only thought - ❜ she does not care for excuses , remember . ❛ you're right . apologies . ❜ his words are stiffer than usual . pointed , and uncomfortable . still , despite this meek appearance , he has grown so much , and seen so much of her folly . his disagreements and passion for a just cause overwhelm him and he speaks up with more confidence , determination holding together every syllable ,

❛ have you changed , mother ? or have you always been so cruel ? ❜

i know it's true , but please , tell me this isn't you .