#viiolencia

[deadtwice]

is that the best way to work on something like this ? / (((((:

❛   yup . ❜ was the immediate answer sira was met with along with a small porcelain figurine of the VIRGIN MARY , pointed at her as if it were locked and loaded . césar doesn't leave his spot by the gas station's counter , he's still waiting on the clerk to give him his change for the suspiciously squishy kitkat bar he had just purchased .

❛   you keep those hands where i can see 'em , missy . i told your people a hundred times now , this soul ain't for sale , 'kay ? ❜ laces announced , eyeing her from head to toe , half-expecting sira to do something sudden or dangerous . the clerk arched an eyebrow as she glanced the two of them but quickly went back to holding césar's twenty dollar bill up to the light , seemingly unbothered by the bizarre confrontation .

laces confidently tightened his grip on the miniature mary . ❛   i need it . ❜ hazel eyes flickered . ❛   ── i think . ❜

@viiolencia

[saintsdeath]

what kind of cheese is kios? :) it would probably be swiss because he's holy <3

you're banned from my blog.

[havesinned]

@viiolencia​ : “ you gonna keep looking at me like that or are you actually gonna kiss me ? ”

YOU    WOULD    THINK    HIS    FORM    WOULD    JUMP    ,    ,    engulfing    her    and    throwing    her    up    into    the    clouds    so    all    of    the    ANGELS    COULD    SEE    -    but    he    did    not    spring,    ,    he    did    not    even    move    for    between    their    collective    years    they    both    know    that    BODYS    SPEAK    too    ,    ,    so    he    let    hues    study    -    his    hand    moving    resting    at    the    side    of    her        ,    ,    body    weigh    leaning    on    finger    tips        as    the    other    hand    slips    tenderly    over    her    cheek        (    thumb    dragging    over    soft    skin    )        he    found    himself    in    a    place    he    has    been    before    CLOSE    ,    ,    (    so    close    to    her    lips    )    ,    ,    blue    hues    look    down    towards    them    as    he    waited    for    a    “    wait    “        -“um”-    “judas”    -“i    cant”    but    none    come    from    her    ,    ,    so    blue    hues    return    to    her    features    ,    ,    ❝    im    going    to    kiss    you    ❞        a    whisper    leaves    him    before    he    found    her    mouth    ,    ,    eyes    shutting    and    head    tilting    as    he        delicately    places    a    kiss    on    her    lips    ,    ,    savoring    the    moments    but    still    pulling    back    lips    this    time    kissing    her    forehead    -    -        eyes    shutting    harder    than    before    until    his    form    hovered    further    from    hers    ,    ,        -    -        his    heart    aching    with    LONGING    as    he    fought    everything    in    him    ,    ,    the    swell    of    his    overwhelming    admiration    wanting    him    to    kiss    her    again    ,    ,        (    oh    god    )    he    shutters    out    a    breath    ,    ,        ❝    may    i    kiss    you    again    ?    ?    ❞

[queensupe]

@viiolencia​​ said:   ❛   indulge .   find  my  muse  drinking  to  cope .

LOUD  &  DEAFENING  SILENCE

her  right  arm  doesn’t  really    hurt    anymore.    it  prickles,  itches  under  the  skin  after  a  good  fight.    sometimes  it’s  stiff  when  the  weather  changes,  clouds  swelling  up  in  the  sky  all  grey    &    dark.    

on  days  like  today,  when  the  color  red  is  still  vibrant    &    recent  enough  that  she  can  smell    &    taste  copper,  maeve  doesn’t  want  to  think  about  what  the  ache  in  her  wrist  stands  for.    what    she    stood  for  once.    

❛      you  have  TWO  choices,    ❜    there’s  already  an  empty  bottle  at  her  feet,  the  amber  evidence  high  in  the  glass  in  front  of  her.    she  tucks  the  pen  up  to  her  lips  to  pull  in  a  deep  breath.    ❛    you  can  turn  around    &    get  the  hell  out  of  here.    ❜      

maeve  squints  up,  pen  clutched  in  her  hand.    

❛    or  you  can  make  yourself  a  martini    &    sit  down.    ❜    

[yaburnaee]

‘i’m not crazy right? this is clearly a trap?’ / nestaaaa

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ— THE BURNING GOD ( accepting! )

❝    And  you  walked  right  into  it.    ❞  Nesta  stirs  her  tea  delicately.    Two  sugars,    a  splash  of  milk.    Quite  proper  really,    all  the  way  down  to  the  way  she  holds  her  cup.    This  is  Nesta  in  her  prime,    the  perfect  hostess  serving  her  guest  politely  and  presenting  herself  without  a  single  hair  out  of  place.    Sira  knows  better,    which  is  probably  why  she  sniffed  out  the  ruse  for  exactly  what  it  truly  is;    not  because  Nesta  is  nothing  if  not  the  creature  she  was  forced  to  become,    but  because  there  is  something  to  the  way  she  smiles  that  insists  on  one  thing.    Nesta’s  actually  very  pleased  to  be  here.

They  are  alone  today.    Gwyn  has  a  long  shift  at  the  library  and  Emerie  is  working  on  inventory  at  her  shop.    Nobody  babysits  them  either  with  the  General  tied  up  at  Windhaven  and  the  Shadowsinger  off  on  a  mission  Cauldron  knows  where.    It’s  really  rather  convenient.    Nesta  holds  her  cup  of  tea  in  her  hands  so  she  won’t  reach  forward  to  shake  @viiolencia  by  the  shoulders instead.    ❝    Now.    Tell  me  why  you  can’t  look  Azriel  in  the  eye lately.    ❞

[yaburnaee]

They  two  repel  all  light,    but  where  Azriel  hides  amongst  the  clutch  of  swirls  belonging  only  to  him,    true  darkness  clings  to  Sira  as  if  to  crown  her  in  Night.    Velaris  suits  her.    They  walk  together  through  starlight  and  high  fae  loitering  in  the  streets,    which  recently  have  taken  to  being  prepared  for  the  solstice  only  weeks  away.    The  air  is  perfumed  with  cinnamon  and  petrichor;    it  smells  like  a  home  that  grows  smaller  every  day,    like  outgrowing  something  that’s  difficult  to  let  go.

There  is  a  tendril  curled  around  Azriel’s  left  ear,    whispering  about  the  eyes  that  linger  and  the  mouths  that  run  all  around  them.    He  and  his  company  are  the  only  things  quiet  in  the  bustle  of  stars  and  fae  and  the  turn  of  the  season.    It’s  only  when  they  cross  a  bridge  over  the  glittering  Sidra  and  perch  against  the  balustrade  together  that  the  silence  between  them  becomes  loud.    She  cuts  it  clean  with  a  knife  and  he  regards  her  in  the  aftermath  of  that  violence  with  his  usual  chilling  scrutiny.    Sira  is  unflappable  in  the  face  of  him,    so  he  inclines  his  head  toward  her  in  both  acknowledgement  and  respect.    ❝    Because  you  aren’t  scared  of  me,    my  lady.    ❞

— @viiolencia: why aren't you scared of me ?

[vampyrasa]

                               @viiolencia​  liked   for   a   starter   |    sylvia p.

❝    i lay my head on the floor;   i choke,  hate feasting;   hate sleeping,  or going to rest; and am perpetually freezing cold.     ❞

[espercr-moved]

       ❝ oh 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 , we both know i could’ve spent my evening doing worse things , ❞ she’s brought an offering in the form of lasagna , an 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 amount of lasagna . ❝ i had to do something to say thank you , for letting me crash here the other night . . . ❞ &  for everything else she’s done for her , simply 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 being one of them .              ❝ i also made garlic bread . ❞ // @viiolencia​ hit the ❤ for a soft starter !