#xorcists

[fatestricken]

                    ❛   I   CAN   SEE   TH’   WAY   YA   LOOK   AT   HER   ,   Y’KNOW .     nancy .     and   ,   like   ,   i’m   not   mad .     i   get   it   ,   i   do .     and   ...   i   dunno   where   i’m   even   goin’   with   this .     just   ignore   me   ,   okay   ?   ❜

@xorcists​    (    for   steve   !    )    //    jamie   byers   st4   sc .

[sherots-a]

@xorcists​​  /  ♥︎’d. + Patrick.

 It'd been another day at Derry High School,not the best day - but also not the worst,it could’ve gone differently if Greta hadn’t been a total mega bitch and decided to start a fight with her over literally nothing. It was no secret that Greta and her squad had a personal vendetta against Scout Bowers,everybody knew that. To think one would want to even attempt to fuck with either of the Bower’s siblings,was mind blowing to some students and even staff,knowing how unhinged both could be,but Scout still had a little bit of sanity intact though she can’t say the same for her brother. What ended the fight was the principle showing up out of nowhere and giving her a Saturday school instead of giving one to Greta,who now had a broken nose and busted lip. 

 Scout needed air after that,and with that,she crumbled up the piece of paper and stormed away from the school towards a smoking area she’d go to and other’s who smoked would hang out in,cigarette already between her lips,mumbling about how Greta should be the one in trouble,not her. She finally gets the stupid thing lit after a few flicks of her lighter,and leans her back against the wall,inhaling and exhaling while looking forward - not expecting to see Patrick crawl out of where ever the fuck he’d been before and walking towards her. 

 She perked up a little,leg being brought down to the pavement where worn out Doc Marten’s she bought herself landed and planted firmly,a smirk daring to spread across her features as she decides to speak up,not really wanting to be out here alone.  ❛ Hey,Pat. C’mere and smoke with me. Stole the old man’s smokes when he was passed out drunk last night. ❜She wiggles said pack between her hand,hoping he’d say yes. Ignoring the brief flutter of butterflies whenever she sees him,she adds to that.  

 ❛ You missed a fight today. Great decided to be a bitch and tripped me,so I broke her nose and busted her lip.❜

[thirdemeritus]

@xorcists​  confessed  :   ❛ It isn’t whether you do it well or ill, it’s that you do it all. ❜ From Secundo

                              “—AND  I  /AM/  DOING  IT  WELL!”  

Papa  Emeritus  III  had  been  silent  for  the  majority  of  the  conversation...the  term  lecture  seems  to  fit  perfectly,  in  fact.  Call  it  what  it  is!  Head  low  over  the  banister  of  the  terrace,  hair  lose  and  free.  If  Secundo  weren’t  present,  the  pose  could  be  mistaken  for  prayer.  As  it  is,  Terzo  cannot  imagine  praying  for  anything  but  patience  or  perhaps  for  his  older  brother  to  FUCK  OFF.  The  outburst  had  come  suddenly,  gloved  fists  slamming  against  the  unforgiving  stone  that  bars  him  from  simply  FLINGING  himself  off  the  balcony  into  the  welcoming  hold  of  oblivion.  Primo  would  undoubtedly  call  this  whole  thing  a  tantrum  and  disregard  him  entirely.  Any  emotion  is  a  tantrum  in  this  dio  abbandonato  abbey,  no?

                                    His  glare  is  fixed  now,  fiery  and  steadfast  upon  the  shadow  of  a  ‘role  model’  that  looms  over  him...but  there  are  tears.  They  swim  traitorously  in  the  depths  of  his  eyes.  “Who  has  spread  the  unholy  gospel  more  than  I?  Who  has  welcomed  more  into  the  arms  of  Satan?  Who  has  imposed  Sisters’  infernal  fucking  message  upon  thousands  despite  the  absolute  drivel  it  is?!  Do  NOT  say  yourself,  mio  fratello.  I  cannot  stand  it.”  

Silence  resumes,  steadying  nature  itself  as  he  turns  to  look  out  into  the  overgrowth  of  the  garden.  “The  ministry...they  despise  me...because  they  are  jealous  of  my  success.”  Papa  hisses,  practically  spitting  his  venom.  

[muutosarchive]

the fluorescent lights are not a welcomed invasion to her doe eyes, yet - they’re still wide & observant as ever. she hadn’t really thought too much about what her duties would be, when she took on such a role. yet, somehow she hadn’t expected to have fingers curled ‘round the tepid handle of a shopping cart. peering around a store dripping with civilian life, & normalcy. untouched by the diplomacy or structure of the world they live in. adjacent to them, yet somehow on a completely separate plain. veil & habit concealing her for the most part, she’s gotten a few looks. but the cardinal always treats her well. she suspects people have the wrong idea, about cardinal copia. she remembers meeting him, for the first time. the way she’d been taken with him. so many had described him in such a manner that gave her pause, before. a cold, neurotic, & freakish man - perhaps awkward.. she knows because her ears are always open, of course. she’s unseen, unheard.... & ever present... yet, it’s like she’s always been able to see inside of his soul. perhaps it’s her intuition, or the way he looks at her - or the way in which she knows him, just a tad more intimately than the other girls... as they have been given assignments together more frequently than the others, around the abbey. obviously, papa emeritus the third was a charming enough fellow. very boisterous, & handsome. many of the girls were quite smitten. though, the cardinal has a sort of charm of his very own. one that appeals more, to her. she finds him quite endearing, actually. the other sisters have teased her, over it - yet, they’re all appreciative of his treatment. & nobody is put off, when he visits the nunnery.

they’re together again, today. they had finished their shopping, and are walking, together to the car they shared. he’s been quite pleasant, today, as usual. he’s a bit nervous - & she doesn’t quite know why. however, she suspects that it’s because of the environment. of course, this is far from the first errand they’ve run outside of the abbey. however, again, she knows the cardinal doesn’t like to be gawked at. he seems a bit more reserved, than usual, out & about. she can sense it at it’s peak, whilst they load the car. the people are aplenty outside, & she can tell he’s just about had it. however, despite this, he doesn’t snap at her. thankful, for her own anxiety is frayed, like an exposed wire. but, she feels like she might be able to calm down, as they climb inside. they were alone now, after all. him driving, of course. yet, when he slides the key into the ignition, the starter does not budge..

she’s frozen, for a moment - lips parted. big eyes wide, as she looks over, at him. all cheekbones & big, hazel eyes. head turning round her neck, as to not make him feel like she’s staring. like she’s expectant, of him. though she can tell he’s unravelling, from the first rattle of the vehicle. eyes flickering minutely. scared, but most of all - worried. she doesn’t want him to be upset. she’s never wanted that. & he’s becoming red in the face. panicked, as he continues to turn the key. “cardinal?” she coos - & while she doesn’t know what instinct it came from (if not genuine care & concern), she reaches over to his knee & places her palm upon it. reassuringly soft. “cardinal..” she tries, softly, again - chin lowered. big, nurturing eyes reaching for him. “hey - it’s alright. why don’t we take a moment, okay?” she gives him a soft, closed lipped smile. thumb brushing his slacks, as she squeezes gently. proceeding a reassuring nod. he’s working himself up... yet, she’s trying to be delicate. not to shame him, for being overwhelmed. “why don’t you take some deep breaths? you’ll be able to think more clearly.” she tells him. twisting, to be more personable. “i’m right here, okay?” honestly, she’s on autopilot. she’s not sure how he’ll respond, however she trusts him implicitly. somehow, someway. she knows the last thing he’d do is harm her.

@xorcists​    /  /    heavily plotted, for cardinal copia 

[hazbinxdisaster]

ask memes || accepting

@xorcists​ asked: ❛   I gave you all I had … I did.  ❜  From Stolas to Stella

THE ADMISSION MERELY PRODUCED A SNEER from Stella, glaring at her husband with DISGUST. “All you had?! How DARE you. You have done nothing but be a TERRIBLE husband. You are a DISGRACE. A pathetic, weak excuse of a Goetian.”

[equiiibrium]

Continued from here. 

@xorcists​

His  own  certainty  that  the  shouting  match  outside  the  ‘Whiskey  a  Go  Go’  had  been  drowned  by  booze  and  self-pity.  He  finds  himself  chasing  the  swish  of  her  blonde  hair  as  she  leaves  for  THE  LAST  TIME  in  the  space  between  dreams,  arms  outstretched  until  she’s  out  of  sight,  grasping  at  nothing  at  all.  His  own  protests  and  arguments  have  dissolved  overtime,  leaving  an  ugliness  in  their  place.  FAME.  She  whisked  him  away  into  this  life  and  exited  it  just  as  quickly.  

  —but  she’s  taken  his  hand  now  and  his  world  turns  right  side  up.  Immediately,  his  thumb  finds  the  back  of  her  hand,  smoothing  over  the  skin  there  as  if  his  touch  had  never  left.  

Nihil  squints  sheepishly  at  the  smell  as  well,  mostly  embarrassed  to  watch  her  take  it  all  in.  “I  didn’t  want  you  to  see  my  depression  shack.”  He  adds,  fishing  in  his  pocket  for  the  keys  to  the  touring  van.  It’s  small,  but  it’s  groovy...and  they’ve  done  a  lot  in  it.  At  ‘papa’,  his  head  raises,  gaze  meeting  hers  again.  He  abandons  his  search  for  a  moment,  the  hand  that  isn’t  holding  hers  coming  to  hold  her  arm,  squeezing  as  if  to  say,  ‘Everything’s  gonna  be  alright’.  “You  know  I’m  crazy  about  you,  right?”  How  could  she  not?  “—and  I’d  throw  it  all  away  if  you  asked  me  to.”  That  hangs  in  the  evening  air  like  a  promise  for  a  moment.  The  singer  snags  his  keys  and  tosses  them  to  her.  “I’ll  meet  you  in  there.”  

He  retreats  into  the  depths  of  the  tiny  motel  room,  face  illuminated  by  the  yellowish  light  of  an  old  minifridge  as  he  grabs  a  drink.  

[blitzisms]

@xorcists​ sent some pain from a while ago:

❛ You always push people away. i just thought you’d never do it to me. ❜ From Verosika

God damn it, why did it have to be her? Didn’t he already say he had enough of her? Why did she keep coming back; just to torment him? He certainly wasn’t having any of it, his body language already telling her to basically fuck off. No eye contact, arms crossed along his chest.

— “ Well, look where that got you. If you already knew that, I don’t know what you expected from me besides that. ”

[thirdemeritus]

@xorcists​  confessed  :   ❛ I am a forgettable leaf on a tree. ❜ from Cardinal Copia

                “That  may  be  true,  Cardinale...if  it  weren’t  for  your  propensity  to  nag...”  

Terzo  lounges  across  a  fainting  couch,  far  too  small  for  his  taste,  limbs  hanging  this  way  and  that,  gazing  up.  The  swirling  charm  given  to  the  library  ceiling  this  evening  twinkles  unendingly,  stars  and  comets  reflected  in  his  eyes.  He  had  enchanted  it,  of  course,  preferring  the  MOODY  atmosphere  of  the  constellations  to  the  dull  chipping  paint  of  the  abbey.  There’s  a  metaphor  to  mull  over...  or  not.  Anyways,  can  it  truly  be  considered  the  Cardinal’s  fault?  His  sullen  VIBE...no,  Terzo  thinks  not.  He,  himself,  has  certainly  set  the  tone.   “As  it  were,  you  are  impossible  to  IGNORE.”  Saturn  appears  from  the  mist,  its  mighty  rings  shimmering  amongst  magentas  and  chartreuse.  Papa  Emeritus  the  third  has  not  looked  at  the  other  man  in  hours  it  seems...but  frankly  it  had  only  been  minutes.  Finally,  Terzo  turns,  one  ear  against  a  fluffed  pillow  cushion  as  a  lock  of  hair  falls,  obscuring  his  vision.  He  can  still  see  the  Cardinal  well  enough.  The  man  has  a  tendency  to  look  uncomfortable,  no  matter  where  he  happens  to  be.  It’s  that  posture  of  his.  Ramrod  straight,  never  laying  down.  

“Come  now,  Copia.  Don’t  be  so  miserable...and  poetic.  One  at  a  time  please.”  He  says  languidly,  the  humor  in  it  still  entirely  there.  “Dramatics  are  MY  ‘thing’,  you  know.”  The  teasing  continues  as  Saturn  disappears  into  the  clouds.  "You  know  I  can’t  handle  when  you  surprise  me...”  On  the  contrary,  Terzo  adores  it.  His  eyes  hide  nothing.