#psiaura

[osuspiria-moved]

" mon chérie, don't sp'ose you'd lend a page of dat book for little ole me ? got a big big problem and could use sum extra spice. " :)))

       𝐎 ' 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐀        𖤐      𝐎 ' 𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐀

          ✱    ALWAYS ACCEPTING    |    unprompt asks    |    @psiaura

‘     by    book,    do    you    mean    the    darkhold?     ’

sweet    curious    query,    spoken    past    parted    lips    ,    singular    arch    of    brow    [    &    ]    crevice    shadows    crept    over    frontal    view.    a    facial    twitch!    an    uncertainty    that    plagues    the    witch's    acidic    pit:    a    shift    from    her    least    favorite    footing    to    a    more    dominant    stance.    by    all    the    books    that    the    other    can    mention,    perhaps    it    was    the    one    that    wanda    had    absorbed    into    her    soul    along    with    chthon,    yet    the    name    never    did    speak    out    loud    until    wanda    had    mentioned    it    by    confirmation.    to    borrow    a    page    from    the    wicked    grimoire;    to    control    [    &    ]    deal    with    whatever    possibly    powerful    spell    that    le    diable    blanc    might    have    accidentally    release.    can    a    kinetic    thief    handle    chaotic    spells    that    may    be    out    of    this    element?    thoughts    pondered    'pon    mind,    a    weight    of    pros    [    &    ]    cons,    one    that    favored    one    side    better.    an    atrocious    idea,    recollections    of    past    friends    that    were    possessed    by    the    book    itself.    ‘     unless    you're    prepared    for    what's    to    come    by    borrowing    a    page,    then    be    my    guest.    ’    a    tease    momentarily,    lips    stretched.    ‘     but    it    would    be    a    shame,    dear    remy.    ’

[blondebl4zer]

❝   some   people,       they're   black   holes.       you   reach   out   to   help   them   and   they   just   suck   you   in   and   do   whatever   the   fuck   black   holes   do,       i   don't   know.       they   fuck   you   up.   ❞    

𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭   𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤   𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬   𝐢𝐬   𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭   𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞   𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤   𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭   𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦   𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞   𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞   𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.       like   they   choose   to   be   made   of   gravity   and   collapse.       like   they   woke   up   one   day   and   decided,     yes,       i   will   ruin   every   orbit   that   dares   to   get   close   to   me.     she   tilts   her   head   just   slightly,       eyes   narrowing   like   she’s   looking   at   something   far   more   interesting   than   his   words   alone.     ❝   you   ever   think…       maybe   it’s   not   that   they   want   to   pull   you   in?   ❞       a   small,       almost   humorless   breath   follows.     ❝   maybe   people   like   that   are   just   made   of   pressure.       of   things   that   never   had   an   escape   route.   ❞

her   gaze   lifts   back   to   @psiaura   —   direct   now.     ❝   and   you   don’t   get     “fucked   up”       by   helping   them.       you   get   fucked   up   because   you   thought   you   were   stronger   than   gravity.   ❞   a   pause.     ❝   the   real   mistake   is   thinking   you   can   touch   something   that’s   collapsing   and   walk   away   clean.   ❞

[0hcaptn]

winks at monica. ;)

Honeyed   hues   flickered   from   the   face   of   their   illustrious   leader   to   the   corner   of   her   eye,   where   the   Cajun   toyed   with   his   usual   deck   of   cards.   Once.   Twice.   Three   times.   Shufflin’   and   reshufflin’,   each   card   sliding   into   the   next   in   quick,   idle   succession.   Those   eyes   of   his   ⸻   gleamin’,   fixed   on   her   over   wide   lips   curved   into   a   deviously   charmin’   grin.   He   tipped   his   head,   and   suddenly   Monica   could   feel   his   gaze   rovin’   slow   down   the   length   of   her   form.   Heat   trailed   after   every   drift   and   dip,   curling   back   up   to   catch   her   stare.   Then   Remy   winked.

❝      si   ou   pa   tourné   ou   zyeux,   mo   va   vini   fè   li   pou   ou    .   .   .    ou   ka   dévoré   mwen.      ❞  The   hero   clicked   her   tongue   at   his   very   obvious   attention,   arms   folded   firm   across   her   chest.   And   if   she   lets   a   smile   slip   when   she   turns   her   head    .   .   .    well,   that’s   her   little   secret,   isn’t   it?

[choirchord]

"i  already  put  the  kettle  on  for  you."

Knuckles  were  pressed  against  the  𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆'𝒔  jawline,  propping  an  elbow  upon  the  smooth  surface  of  the  regular  kitchen  table.  Legs  were  laid  over  the  thigh,  corners  of  the  mouth  curved,  smirking  at  the  individual  there  in  the  kitchen.  "  And  they  say  𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗹𝗿𝘆  is  dead."  Icy  hues  peered  at  𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖞,  motioning  a  satisfied  nod.   "Thank  you,  I  𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚   that.  "  pausing  for  a  second.   "I  can  grab  some  tea  bags,  or  if  you  like,  just  a  cup  of  ramen?  "  @psiaura

[yoursdndispatcher]

yoursdndispatcher asked: [ pull ] psiaura answered:

𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬. ft. @yoursdndispatcher

" bonjour to you too, mon cher. " remy's face is quickly redirected once a hand grips onto his own dark brown hair framed by part of his suit. demonic eyes peer at the esteemed dispatch, unsure if he had been in some sort of trouble given the history of his five finger discount. " careful with dat, a grip like dat will get remy goin' in ways dat'll make da devil cry." a handsome smile quickly fades as a mug meets the thieves lips, sipping on the job with some less than favorable coffee. a few heads pop up from surrounding cubicles, judging gambit's choice of words or listening intently for more. " ah got ya one. had to fight dat flamin' homme for the last of it. " his accent is thick from cajun roots, mixing in his native tongue with hints of english. it was the way he fluently implied his comforts in speaking his mind so freely. dirty talk included whether it had been warranted or not. remy had to admit, there was a bit of tension between the human's touch & gaze that made him think into it a bit more.

@psiaura

Robert blinks mutely to being identified. He realizes that he's wearing his work shirt under his windbreaker- the dark coral red SDN logo clearly visible amid the blue. Even now that the paychecks have started coming in, he hasn't gotten used to buying himself things- not even clothes. He'll have to amend that in the future. He's reflecting on the company with every action he takes outside the office. Not as bad as this man reflects upon himself with this petty theft. A big guy, fit, tall... But lithe looking for all his size. Robert is an above average fighter by any measure, but he's ad a disadvantage at his weight. He's learned long ago that the first five seconds of any encounter decide life and death, especially for a human. He's learned to act fast and hard, and maybe even employ a little overkill so to speak. That's the only reason he's alive to this day. That's why his fist is still coiled iron-tight in a a rakish crop of hair. Bright eyes are looking at him, but they're kind of the inverse of what one expects, with obsidian black sclera where white should be. Those demonic eyes and silky drawl proceed to tease and disassemble him with all the expertise of a telepath, and he let's go with a jump.