#vilemagick

[guiltspelled]

     “  who says i’m alone?  “ she was, but it wasn’t like she was going to be sharing that with strange boys. don’t talk to strangers, her father had once chastised her. funny, because that’s all she’s been doing since he disappeared, in her desperate attempt to find him. blue eyes narrow as she focuses on the boy again, arms crossing over her chest. “  why do you care, anyways?  “

@vilemagick​ liked.

[dcgausscr]

vilemagick:

“   you tryin’ to say that you bumped into a wall?   ”

he’ll jam his finger in his eye.   actually,   he’s half tempted.   just for the lie   —    how stupid does tristan think he is?   (  don’t answer that,   he might get a little too offended there.   )   “   friendly question:  why haven’t you killed that sack of horeshit yet?  waiting till little ry-ry isn’t home?   send her t’day care or something.   ”   a wave of his hand.   bothersome little fucker   —   little siblings he means.

tristan shook his head, arms crossing against his chest. “i didn’t say anythin’ about bumpin’ into a wall.” he wasn’t in denial, wasn’t one to make excuses for his father’s actions. “all i said was it’s only a bruise.” which it was —- for the most part, at least. something deep below the surface, a sickly dark purple that indicated something bad in the long run; but a deep tissue bruise still qualified as a bruise, didn’t it? his brows furrowed at the question, gaze shifting somewhere else. he had to be joking, no one made patricide sound so cavalier. “as if it’s that easy,” he waved his hand dismissively, didn’t want to let his mind wander to the place it had so many times before. “the fuck are you bein’ so cross with me for? as you can see i’ve already got a dad —- don’t need this shit from you too.”

[turnwell-a]

@vilemagick​ sent  ‘ i don’t feel sorry for you. ’  from the hurt prompts meme.

                                                                                mouth   dry,   so   dry   she   struggles   to   swallow  /  to   speak.   a   long   day,   she   feels   drained   on   every   level   and   maybe   at   another   time   those   words   would   cut   deeper   “WHO   says   i   want   you   to ?”   the   traitorous   little   voice   in   the   back   of   her   head   counters   that   of   course   she   wants   that,   she’s   begging   for   people   to   feel    s o r r y    for   her,   little   cries   for   help   in   how   she   keeps   everyone   at   arms   length   and   runs   away   if   things   are   going   wrong.   words   less   tired,   sharper   now   “a   little   empathy   isn’t   a   BAD   thing.”

[asomniari]

7 + 11 !

munday on tuesday cause monday kicked my ass///. @vilemagick​ !

List three honest flaws your favorite character has and talk about how those flaws make them problematic.

Oh boy where do we begin. He’s very disinterested. I touched up on this a while ago in another headcanon post, but Felassan just couldn’t give a shit about anyone really. He could find someone interesting and amusing, but ultimately they don’t mean anything to him. He’s manipulative. If there’s something he wants, he will do whatever he has to to make sure he gets it. He doesn’t mind waiting out, but if he can manipulate someone to trust him entirely, then he doesn’t see anything wrong with it. Felassan is also a liar, a fact to which he doesn’t deny (but he doesn’t admit to). He intentionally omits details and lets people think what they want about him.

What’s your biggest pet peeve when it comes to RPing 

Honestly when people reblog a million times from an ask or straight up don’t bother to trim their replies. It drives me nuts and I can’t stand looking at it.

[atrabilicus]

@vilemagick​

     “you know he isn’t actually in love with you, right? i mean, it’s kind of sad watching you fawn over him.” okay, not exactly fawn but watching them make eyes at each other is something he’s getting sick of. “he can’t love anything. he’s just using you for the skills you have. he’d pick up any old witch or warlock if you weren’t just so easy to play.”

[ibriida]

1) things you said at 1 am

MEME. | Prompts.Status: Accepting !

He’s squeezing her—it’s an action that’s normally commonplace, right there with the brushing as frequent as his lips brushing against her neck, or better yet—covering her own. A sense of longing washes over her, her mind drifting back to lazy days, filled with soft touches and whispers, their days boundless and full of potential, just like them. 

She tries to relax in his restrictive embrace, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, evenly, as if she’s asleep. 

She lasts five minutes.

She nudges him, an involuntary smile appearing on her lips as he grunts in response, loosening his the hold just enough so that she can turn and face him, the bright blue of his eyes immediately taking her in, temporarily halting her breath. 

He’s just so damn beautiful.

“Qīn’ài de,” she begins, pushing on, a skill learned gradually with time. She touches his cheek, thumb brushing carefully over the apple. For a moment, she delights in the softness of his skin, eyes staring deeply into his, her words momentarily halted. “You need to sleep.” She barely gives him enough time to protest. She’s not in the mood to fight—she just wants to be heard. It’s too early to push for more, her constant craving for it aside.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay? Not again.” She holds her gaze despite herself, the emotions that come with her sacrifice too much for her to bear, intuition screaming at her to advert her gaze, to take another breath, to push it down—anything to temper the intensity of her words. 

She doesn’t listen.

She no longer likes to hide anything from the man she loves, the man she died for five years ago, an action she’s happy to repeat over and over. Death didn’t belong to Kai—it belonged to her and her alone, grabbing her by the throat since childhood. Although she regrets nothing about her actions, she knows that he does—the guilt he carries that renders him loose skin, soggy bones, and chapped lips—ones that silently mouth spell after spell in an effort to protect her, to do what he couldn’t, not in that moment. 

It happened too damn fast. 

“There’s no need for you to constantly watch over me.” She leaves the sentiment there, deciding it best to leave out how weak she feels, how much his babying annoys her. She finds it insulting. She didn’t die foolishly, she made a choice, held true to both her nature and her word. 

Their children couldn’t lose both parents. 

It’s a conversation they’ll have to have another time. Tonight is about comfort, reassurance. They can go to war another day. 

When Kai opens his mouth to protest once again, she gently silences him, moving up to kiss his forehead before resuming their gaze, his baby blues stealing her oxygen for a second time.

“I’m okay, my love. I promise,” she says, kissing him softly—not to censor him, but because she needs this, they both do. Five years apart felt like centuries—they’re desperate to make up the loss.

“So please, get some sleep?” she begs, once their lips part. She knows there will be pushback on this, and she’s ready for it. 

She’ll endure anything as long as he closes his eyes.

“Just try, baby,” she breathes. 

“For me.”