𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗳𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 𝘃𝗼𝗹. 𝟲 @godshood-archived - Tumblr Blog

‹ 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱 — hexriddn . ›

“ think it’s ill advised to smoke in a church ? “ cathedral , same difference . this couldn’t have been more complicated of a situation , between the two of them at least . they worked together , that was known knowledge but many did not know about the other things behind locked doors . sticking themselves in the middle of a crowded old building during a propsteriously catastrophic storm was not ideal . yasha would have trekked back to her off campus apartment if it hadn’t been for the over abundance of warnings and wondering if her disinterest would get her crushed under a weeping willow . “ probably … least we aren’t grading papers , right ? “

in soltitude , a safety to caress . trapped within sunken wood and under the eyes of apostles long since deified , he risks a touch — digits whispering against skin declarations not said out loud . ❝ and at least i know you’re safe . ❞ TRIBULATIONS like a ghost in his shadow and her , by mere association , tempting a haunting . ❝ are you okay ? heard a few people got banged up out there and now i guess they’re seeing things . jesus , we need a doctor in here or something . ❞

#‹ 𝗹𝘂𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗼 𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗶 — ✣ ➝ prose . ›#hexriddn

‹ 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱 — iimmortals . ›

𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 . kit is bored out of his mind , and that spells trouble for much of sacred heart — in this particular moment , the victim his eyes light upon is none other than delphine . “ well , well , well , ” he says , hooking a finger in the middle of her book and tugging it down. “ whatever do we have here ? ” she always has her nose buried in something ; one of his current favorite pastimes is working out how , exactly , he can pull her attention from said book . the easiest method is , as always , teasing her mercilessly . kit wrinkles his nose at the cover of the book , mouthing the title as he reads it to himself . “ you really find this entertaining ? ” he flicks at it , attempting to disturb her in any way possible. “ we really need to spice up your life a bit . honestly , delphine. ” / @godshood

tendrils a safeguard where they fall across rosy cheeks . dusk sheds the last skin of sun over dew - slick architecture . in the library , sun ebbs below the horizon and leaves with a kiss against her profile ( GILDED - MADE and warm ) . the pages of inferno rest between petal soft digits — quickly interrupted and chaste visage polluted with a frown . ❝ ugh ! what do you want , kit ? ❞ the tilting of a crown , the narrowing of lids : something nearing a dangerous coaxing , DARING . ❝ i was doing just fine until you came along ! ❞ risen decibels , a chorus of shh’s to accompany . whispered , then , ❝ don’t you have somebody else to pester around here ? can’t you see i’m trying to read here in some peace and quiet . i don’t need you ruining that . ❞

#‹ 𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗱 — ✣ ➝ prose . ›#iimmortals

‹ 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱 — iimmortals . ›

“ 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐘 ? ” she asked, swanning into luciano’s office. the question was more of a formality than anything ; if he actually was busy , all it would take was a well - placed pout for him to crumble . she was definitely a favorite of his , and she very well knew it . not that she minded — she enjoyed the favoritism , and his classes were much more interesting than many of the other faculty members. she may or may not have attempted to sweet talk her way into his classes more than one semester in a row . bev sat down with a heavy sigh , her things scattered around her as she set them down . “ i need to talk to you about this exam , ” she said , setting a blue book down on his desk . “ why didn’t i get a higher score on the essay section ? it was practically a work of art . ” / @godshood

marrow made of ruined citadels . him , with ghosts of empires long collapsed to haunt . he’s in his head again — sacreligous rites . stationary scattered atop hardwood for papers he can’t be bothered to read and tests YET TO BE graded . rapture comes in the colluquial of a familiar voice : saccharine and feather - light in the air . a show of dropping his pen , sigh tasting of RIVER WATER where it falls from his tongue . ❝ this again ? ❞ red ink bleeding on paper stored away too quickly , too careless ; better things to do than read the same thirty or so essays . ❝ your thesis just wasn’t strong enough , and knowing you , i think you could’ve done better . ❞ HALF TRUTHS — she can do better , but then again who couldn’t ? better than admitting that grades were delivered out of boredom , above all else / to write a mark unfounded in evidence or worth .

#‹ 𝗹𝘂𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗼 𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗶 — ✣ ➝ prose . ›#iimmortals

‹ 𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗱 — ecphorics . ›

faculty meetings are never the most interesting. listening to old white men pretend to know better about the future of the school than the women in the room who were brighter and more put together than they were got extremely EXHAUSTING after the first two meetings of her tenure at sacred heart. however, now she’s figured out exactly how to get through them relatively unscathed. it involves bringing along a spare notebook, two pens, and playing tic-tac-toe with the woman next to her. she draws a quick grid in the corner of today’s paper, before drawing a small x in the upper-left box. she NUDGES the second pen in cressida’s direction, calling the woman’s attention away from the man who was speaking and towards something far more interesting and important.

benevolence a funny game to play when she bleeds malice : smile not quite reaching the eyes , sinew taut . echo of the room around her ; when they laugh , chuckle drips HONEY THICK AND GOLDEN . when they are confused , a crinkle of brows to taint cherubic visage . relentless , practiced in feigning . reveries broken and she’s coaxed to a present where men insist upon FALSE SUPERIORITY ( a plague , if she were asked ) and an inked grid rests in lethargic peripheral . ❝ oh august , you always know the way to my heart . ❞ whispered , colloquial satin where it lilts in the hushed vicinity . digits scribe an o in any nonsensical square : long since stopped playing to win , to view august as competition a sin . ❝ i say we fake some womanly problems and skip out early . if i have to listen to another second i just might run myself OFF THE CLIFFS . ❞

#‹ 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗮 𝗱𝗲𝗹 𝗯𝗼𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗲 — ✣ ➝ prose . ›#ecphorics

vjestyca

#YUP YUP YUP !#‹ 𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗱 — ✣ ➝ vanity . ›

cher vc can anyone c me . i’m rosie ( she / her ) though i will respond to any number of profanities with sum special luv for village idiot ! i’m not hard to please . i see a woman going feral in a movie , i believe that movie is humanity’s greatest cinematic achievement . who am i , if not a hole for henry cavill ? umm like this to validate me or to get sum plotting going though you can always reach me on discord at elizabeth debicki is 6′3#7585 n ummmm below are the sewer rats !

case file : ramorini , luciano my god , whose performance am i watching

associations : shoulders worn with the weight of the world — an atlas too young and endured too long . scars like ghosts on the skin telling of tribulations from a past life long forgotten . a lack of decorum rejected seemingly centuries past .

1938 , italy what is this space between myself and myself

memoir : palms made to crumble empires and leave ruins in smoke . a wreckoning , a monster made even before the curse of a family legacy . the wicked ways of a grandfather who saw no child in pleading blue eyes — marrow and flesh to be molded . bloodied flesh , teeth bared , veins of ruined ash . sanity and solace in siblings he held too tight . what does it mean to be human , if you never truly were ? years spent lost in a hatred for a self not his own to claim . wishes his hands were made for more than the calamity of ruining but wishing is a faithless practice .

full name : luciano dante ramorini

nicknames : luc , occasionally luci though don’t expect to not get punched in the gut for it

birthdate : december 19

hometown : milan , italy

current location : sacred heart academy , wales

languages spoken : italian , english , latin

distinguishing features : a general unapproachable attitude

physical ailments : n/a

neurological conditions : n/a

positive : iconoclastic , candid

negative : amoral , parlous

fears : succombing to a darkness within him that grows , clawing , begging to be let out

aspirations : escaping this life

likes : rock music , the comfort of being alone , the mutt he took into his home affectionately named bowie , ice baths

dislikes : questions of morality , mint chocolate , having his head crowded with thoughts he doesn’t dare to say out loud , movie adaptations of books

case file : del bosque , cressida mouthful of white hot fire , tongue coated in poison

associations : a scream towards nothingness ; throat made raw and hoarse . nightmares from a past life that awaken your body in a heave all sweat kissed and ribs rattling . pomegranate juice sticky where it runs from a fist clenched too tight .

1938 , cuba there’s a hunger in me , something vicious

memoir : born where womanhood was defined by having a voyeuristic relationship with pain —— am i suffering beautifully ? is my agony lovable ? lived too long as a carefully constructed performance piece to those who would see themselves as supeior and power ( taken , not granted . never granted ) promised a ceasation of begging to be believed , recognized , acknowledged . a willingness to burn villages to the ground , drain people of their blood , and see to the ruin of empires but still thinks men to be the worst monster of all . years have not granted control over her blood lust and greed for power . a stubborn refusal to be tamed .

full name : cressida irene del bosque

nicknames : none

birthdate : november 14

hometown : santa cruz del norte , cuba

current location : sacred heart academy , wales

languages spoken : spanish , english

distinguishing features : an unassuming , innocent face

physical ailments : n/a

neurological conditions : n/a

positive : reticent , sycophantic

negative : choleric , scelestic

fears : completely losing her humanity

aspirations : to make a mark on the world where it counts

likes : milk baths with orange peels and flower petals , overcast skies teasing rain , whiskey and coke , receiving gifts and praise

dislikes : taking orders from those deemed less than her , religion , being threatened or challenged , sacrificing fashion for warmth

case file : stafford , delphine there’s something off about that girl . borderline

associations : wild flowers wilting in a cracked vase ; dry petals at the base . a nightgown torn as barefeet trek through an unforgiving forest — thorns catching at satin and lace . nosebleeds after a moment of acute stillness , static loud where it hums in your head and then , suddenly , quiet .

1951 , france any little shock could push her right over the edge

memoir : old money , silver spoon to quiet bird song cries to the tune of begging for love , to be seen . striking hands and wicked tongues . neighbour’s whispers quelled by forced smiles and chaste family portraits . made to be docile , seen and never heard . fifteen and clinging to girlhood , tabloids racing to cover the story : grisly home murder , young daughter only survivor . when they ask , she cannot say what happened — memory thick and foggy , blood - scented , tasting of ash . distant relatives a new home and she’s safe now ; save for the blackouts , coming to and finding blood that is not her own .

full name : delphine ried stafford

nicknames : dels

birthdate : july 5

hometown : nice , france

current location : sacred heart academy , wales

languages spoken : french , english

distinguishing features : a shy smile almost always hidden away

physical ailments : n/a

neurological conditions : dissociation

positive : seraphic , stoic

negative : diffident , heterotelic

fears : becoming as her parents were