witchcraftandburialdirt

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The combination of 'unnervingly flawless self-control' with 'occasional tendency to engage in reckless, dangerous, and borderline self-destructive or death-seeking behaviour' in a character is SUCH catnip to me

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Longer hair suits him imo

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Home is another person 

Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin | The Complete Poems & Fairytales, George MacDonald | Stone Butch Blues, Leslie Feinberg | Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin

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JJ I AM LOOKING AT YOU DIRECTLY. I HAVE MANY THINGS TO DISCUSS WITH YOU, WEARY TRAVELER.

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"So," Evelynn draws out the word, leaning back in her office chair as she looks down at her nails. A rare occasion of its own, for her to not be wearing her metallic claws. There's a painstakingly long moment of silence before she speaks again, her gaze shifting to finally glance upon her assistant. "When were you going to tell me you spent an evening with monsieur Vol Kalah Heigaari?"

── 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ── 𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝. @hemoplagued

The cerise polish, a color Robin'd meticulously chosen to complement Evelynn's dress for her interview, lay suspended mid-air once she spoke. His life was a series of separate, compartmentalized boxes: work locked away from pleasure, public persona distinct from private indulgence. And it had worked, beautifully, seamlessly, until now. How did she know? Robin, frankly, was not in the mood for spilling his heart's desires out to his boss; however close they were, this was far too much! Oh Gods ─ How did she even find out? He hadn't told anyone! Had Vlad let something slip? Surely not ─ he was polite! He would never imply that Robin and he would have ...

He had to relax.

He slid the brush back into its container - Robin was no longer focused on his artistry and he was unwilling to let it dry out ( given how absurdly expensive it was, he'd never hear the end of it ) . He shifted in his chair, the leather creaked softly under his nervous movements while he straightened. As much as he wanted to distance himself from the subject at hand, he knew that would only make it worse. And so, without much else to do, he met Evelynn's gaze and tried to keep his shit,

“Miss Evelynn, I assure you,” he began, his voice a touch too formal, a touch too strained, “Our evening together was for business only, and not in relation to any … salacious activities.”

Damnmit. The whole thing sounded clumsy and did far more to draw attention than deflect it. Then, worse, came the bloom. He couldn't stop it, now that Vladimir's stupidly handsome face was in his head! Get out! I can't focus with you smiling at me like that! A delicate, rosy blush spread across the winter landscape of his face, and began its ascent. It started subtly, a warm tide rising from beneath his collar to stain the pale skin of his neck with a gentle pink, then it intensified. Sweet hues of apple red blossomed along his cheeks, as if he were a freshly picked fruit ripe for eating. Finally, unable to contain his burgeoning anxiety, he stammered,

“Did ─ Did he say something to you?”

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RELATIONSHIP BUILDING

Send ⭐️ (or multiple) for a headcanon about our muses. Send ☎ for your muse’s info in my muses phone (name, ringtone, picture, last text received/sent). Send 🎼 for a song that reminds me of our muses. Send 👋 for three things that describe our muses relationship. Send 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours. Send 👤+ a muse name for my muse’s opinion on that muse (with the other muse/mun’s permission). Send 😍 for my muse to tell yours three things they love about them. Send 💤 for my muse to say something about yours in their sleep. Send 📖 for my muse to read out an entry in their journal/diary about yours. Send ✉ for a written letter from my muse. Send📱for a voicemail my muse left yours. Send 🌀 for my muse’s reaction to getting stuck in a storm with yours. Send 🍺 for my muses drunk reaction around yours. Send 💰 for your muse to ask mine for money. Send ✔️ for a daydream my muse has had about/involving yours. Send 👀 for my muse to compliment yours Send 💋 for how my muse would seduce/flirt with yours. Send  👏 and what your muse will do to fluster mine. Send 😙 for my muse’s reaction to yours being super affectionate. Send 🍵 and my muse will reveal one of their biggest regrets involving yours. Send 😶 and my muse will confess to something they wish they didn’t do that affected your muse.

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i mean yes he is a centuries old vampire who has drained countless lives with the very mouth he kisses me with but have u considered that i’m his favourite?

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Sandra Lim, "Small Container, Fury"

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━━ @mxlevolence @alltimelines

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   ━━ ✧✧ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔? ✧✧ ━━ 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 !!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘

Boundless joy and love are bundled up inside your heart. You make so many plans but only have enough time to follow through with a few. The dreams you have meticulously crafted for yourself are big and complex, but you've spent so long ruminating that almost every little detail is worked out. Your energy can be overwhelming to yourself at times and the many plans you've lost to time can make you feel left behind by your own mind and will. Fret not dear friend!! A dazzling mind like yours will surely bounce back and create more ideas and plans that you realise when the time is right.

Tagging: @kingoftheravens, @zaunrising, @settriigh, @zaunite-leo, @frostkingoftheapocalypse, @rxgalbullxt, @nameaprice, @johnnysslaughter, @sxlemnity, @deathfxnds, @deathdxnces, @songofsilentechoes, @carmencxgni, @gettnup, @altarfates

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   ━━ ✧✧ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔? ✧✧ ━━ 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 !!

𝐀 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌

Your feelings are big, but often it's difficult to tell what they are. Mostly, you feel you're full of a flurry of everything and nothing and the harder you think the more difficult it is to piece together what's what. Sometimes this fullness can feel serene, letting the feelings wash over you in a haze can feel like home. Even though you may often feel lost, you know exactly what is right and wrong the majority of the time. The doubts cloud your certainty and sometimes it's important to not let those doubts win.

Tagging: @mxlevolence, @hemoplagued, @agonizedembrace, @essencefluxed, @allegiantfervor, @kalijhomentethi, @manufactoredxbyxdesign, @thegoldentigress, @piltover-sharpshooter, @deathdvncer, @sanguisstella, @saviourofzaun

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Erica Berry, Wolfish: Wolf, Self, and the Stories We Tell About Fear

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Are we not devils? / from Vas for Robibi

✧ ━━ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝙱𝚈 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴

The slow grind of stone against bone stalled in its echoed dance across the Cathedral's pews. Hollow caverns, devoid of life and lit with a sickly glow, flloated aimlessly until a voice snagged their attention ━ and that vacant gaze, normally so lost in the swirling red of hid own thoughts, reluctantly drifted towards it. Only then was it that Robin was struck by her, a maiden of untamed fire ━ a creature he was sure to have read about in many a tale. Robin briefly wondered if she'd journeyed from the southern ports, but no fathomable reason stirred in his head as to why someone so wild and fierce would wander this way. To this Hellish, frozen place. He dared to peek again. Robin blinked, and the sharp lines of her face swam, morphing to something unsettlingly familiar. A ghost, then. Another visitor come to haunt him, to ask him why; perhaps she was the future echo of Miss Abigail Crowther, a glimpse of the woman she might have become had life allowed her to bloom.

If you had allowed her to bloom, Shepherd.

He readjusted his grip on the pestle.

"..."

He dismissed the stupid notion. Whoever this apparition feigned to be, Robin felt no fear. He had long since shed his terror of the dead; they were his stock and trade, after all. Slowly, mechanically, his wrist began to circle and resume its previous rhythm while new bleached and brittle crumbs were cast into the bowl's waiting maw. The Sin Eater finally beheld his ghostly guest:

"It is what I am born to be, until the withering of the last green leaf, until all that is good and fair pays the toll demanded by time, and this world collapses unto itself."

He severed that nasty train of thought once Abel rose unbidden to the forefront of his mind. Even now, after everything he'd done, shame still pricked at him ... the bitter knowledge of his own failings was a stinging rebuke ━ but his self inflicted damnation held no potency once Abel's quiet disappointment filled him. He knew his late father would look upon him with such remorse. Why did you do this? Robin wrenched his gaze upwards to find the towering statue of Christ carved within the marbled walls of the church staring at him. But there was no comfort for him, no divine absolution … only pity reflected in the Messiah's silent, sorrowful visage.

Robin rose to his feet and delicately skimmed his fingertips along the chalk, lifting them to anoint the edges of the unholy monstrosity he'd etched together during the past two weeks' descent into madness. The wall wept a fresco of horror. Blood, now thick and sluggish, surrendered its liquid form and congealed with ragged swaths of flesh and bone fragments to form a butcher's charnel house. Over the carrion a thousand jeweled eyes swarmed and clung to the slick surface like a festering growth. Worst, from the core sprouted a bouquet of charred, severed arms; with each finger splayed and hooked to claw at the air, grasping for purchase in the void, reaching for nothing, reaching for anything. It was a crude rendering of the abyss now yawning within The Sin Eater, of the sleepless, inescapable malice burrowed deep in the clutches behind his eyes; ever patient and ever poised to prick crimson back into his vision should he forget the red-washed destiny which awaited him.

But Robin did not recoil from the display. No, he took a delicate step back, his stare admiring. He looked at Her with chilling acceptance, an unsettling contentment bordering on joy. "None can halt the inevitable. She cannot be stopped." he murmured, "The world will die, and all remaining will be us Devils."

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what do your fellas like to do when spring/summer rolls around?

Robin is such a busy bee when Spring rolls around its actually ridiculous. While his magic keeps his general home warm and he can keep his potted herbs throughout the chill of winter, Robin's "work" is so much more than gardening his general area.

He may be small, but he is quite mighty in terms of cultivating land and getting nature to agree with him; and once the earth is warm enough to be tilled - he gets to it! Sowing seeds of his own crop, more herbs, and revisiting his usual pathways to make sure they are ready to be traveled on again. He also empties his own dry stock for the birds, squirrels, his and @hemoplagued's deer, just so many things to do and it always seems like there's never enough time in the day; but with the hours of sunlight stretching ever longer, its hard for him to be upset about it. Spring is such a special time to Robin; he finds peace with the forest waking up again, and feeling the cool earth turn to soft and warm clover under his bare feet will never not be a blessing in and of itself. Not only is the forest waking, but he'll be more likely to find travelers in the woods - and more likely to host long time friends since they'll be out and about!

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"AUGH!"

The door slammed open with a force that rattled the rather flimsy frame, announcing Robin's arrival like a thunderclap as the hinges wailed in response to the brutal implosion. He was a goddamn hurricane of fury; already spewing venom which pre-empted any greeting, the tirade had obviously been in full swing long before he even crossed the threshold of their unfortunately shared apartment.

"You should see them, Viktor ━ ! A pack of simpering, slobbering mutts at her feet! 'Ohhh, she's so wonderful, ohhh, she's SOOO GREAT!'" His voice rose upward into a grating falsetto of sycophantic worship, and he clutched at his heart once he'd completed a theatric pirouette, even going so far as to lift his left foot in mock adoration, "'She's saving the city! The Kirammans will rescue us all from the Undercity Rats! It's not as though they're people!'" The overwrought energy propelling him stuttered, the forced cheer abruptly vanishing, leaving behind a simmering resentful silence one spark away from an explosion. His back was to Viktor now, and within a few moments his hands had lifted and flexed in a frenzied display of agitation, legs braced in a pathetically inadequate attempt to contain the next violent onslaught of pure, unadulterated loathing ready to burs ━

"FUCK! I HATE that lying, EVIL Enforcer BITCH!" Punctuated by a sharp kick to the closest chair and a vicious THWACK of his textbook's spine hitting the wall, "AGH! And Jayce ━ ! H-He ━ He ━ "

What was only a quick glance from Robin to Viktor followed by a double take; green eyes, wide and almost manic, mirrored the very worry etched on his friend's brow, the same lines of concern now deepening. Only then, caught in that reciprocal stare, did the tears become apparent; three silent, uncontrolled paths down Robin's face. The realization of their existence seemed to momentarily deflate him; the rigid line of his grit teeth softened, and the acid he’d spat out lost its corrosive edge. Shame, raw and immediate, swam across his face. He averted his gaze, instantly fixating on the door and the discarded mess of paperwork scattered near it. Everything inside of him was pleading for escape. But a heavy, undeniable weight anchored him to the spot. He couldn’t leave. Not now. He had to tell Viktor. So, fighting the urge to run out, with his brow creased in reluctant annoyance and lip curled in a half-suppressed sneer, Robin begrudgingly crossed the space between them and slumped down beside Viktor. There was no room for delicate maneuvering, no time for gentle cushioning. And honestly, Robin did not particularly care how deeply the news hurt Viktor. Are you sure? Yes, I am. Are you sure? Yes. Are you sure? … Well? …

"C-Caitlyn released The Grey." Robin choked out, and Gods, each word was a shard of glass scraping up his throat, everything tasted like blood. Just say it. You have to. "Hextech weapons are going to be forged to ━ to be used against the Undercity." Our home. Robin's jaw was a taut wire about to snap. A beat of quiet, where nought but the radiator's humming sounded, then came the final blow:

"Jayce approved it."

Robin's glimpsed downwards, lingering for a fraction of a second on Viktor's still hand; but he denied himself, the unspoken need remaining unfulfilled. A sudden straightening followed, and Robin finally looked his partner directly. A flare of emotion – betrayal, ferocity, and heartbreaking despair – ignited across the expanse of his iris, and eclipsed the man Viktor knew. His vision was haunted, distant, and it was genuinely impossible to know how much of Viktor he truly saw; or if he was trapped entirely inside his own heartbreak.

"And don't you DARE ask me to forgive them," he hissed, "EITHER of them! If you do then ━ " Robin barked, "Then you really are an unfeeling, empty wind-up puppet just like them ━ ! Ugh!"

He spun away. Tremors wracked at his slender frame as his arms shot across his chest; but white fabric of his sleeves offered no barrier as his nails raked deeper to carve crescents of angry crimson into flesh already sickeningly pale. Did you think that opening your heart would change them? You must be an idiot! How many MORE times are you going to let us down? It wasn't enough. Robin's palms flew up to mask the utter, world-ending misery devastation twisting his features, though they did little to mute the croaky gasps for air. He wondered how many had died. How many of them looked like Wren; mouth agape, and glazed eyes staring into nothing but the bellies of the insects all to eager to feast upon them? His stomach lurched.

Robin surrendered to the pain, practically collapsing onto his friend’s waiting shoulder. And finally, he sobbed.

━━ @alltimelines