Xanti

~~ PERMANENTLY CLOSED BLOG ~~ You can find me on discord <3

[nemfrog]

XIII. Death. [Réédition moderne du jeu de tarot de Nicolas Conver en 1760]  1890-99 ed.

Gallica

[xantineverdoer]

change is inevitable.

This is post 1002 on this blog. And it's the last one - for many reasons. I love all my darlings - you know where and how to find me. I am not in any danger, nothing is wrong, I only have good things to look forward to now 💘

[the-evil-clergyman]

The Three Graces by Edouard Bisson (1899)

[xantineverdoer]

FYI; "getting blocked from a drama blog for being too much drama", is going on my resume.

[lovecrumbss]

“And like all lovers and sad people, I am a poet.”

Daniel Radcliffe as Allen Ginsberg in 'Kill Your Darlings' (2013).

[spitblossoms]

[rodrickheffeley]

there's something stupid going inside my head

[rodrickheffeley]

[drhanniballecter]

I relate to the phrase “chillin like a villain” because it shows that I’m calm but also ready to sin

[niabridges]

The Heir of Slytherin.

Ominis kept his diary bound in worn, unadorned leather, its pages thick and yellowed. It was a solitary object, tucked within the false bottom of his battered traveling trunk. Not a single soul knew of its existence. Not even Sebastian.

He didn't write every day. Sometimes, the guilt festering in his chest was too overwhelming, the weight of unspoken horrors too heavy to give them shape through ink. Other days, the rage burned too brightly, and he needed to release it somehow, lest he unleash his fury upon those who didn't deserve it.

The diary wasn't a testament to his days. It was a confessional, a purging of the darkest truths his family would have celebrated. Here, he railed against the whispered curses his relatives hurled at innocent Muggles. Here, he detailed the revulsion that consumed him when his father raised his wand, ready to deliver torment.

There were softer entries too. Memories of his mother's gentle touch, faded into the distant past, yet etched upon his heart. Scrawled recollections of the first time he'd felt true acceptance, belonging, within Hogwarts' hallowed halls. In these fragile moments, hope flickered – a defiant flame against the suffocating darkness he knew lay in his blood.

The diary wasn't a source of comfort. It was a vessel for the ongoing battle within him, a memoir to the silent war for his very soul.

[myteaplace]

Theoin III, 2012, Agostino Arrivabene

[okami-paramour]

[sosuperawesome]

Tessa Nelissen on Instagram

[girlonabreak]

[mochipong]

Hades 2 I need you

[celerydays]

✨ Commission for @silverxstardust ✨

Taking a bit of a break from their studies to practice some dancing (and maybe study the soft glow of the candlelight on each other's faces instead 🥺)

Thank you so much for trusting me with your commission! Seriously the cutest scenario 😭💗

[zordanna]

married life✨

it was 3 am when I did this, i don’t know if I was fully awake I gotta be honest

Disclaimer they are both in their twenties post Hogwarts🍃

[ravenbronze]

Sebastian and Clara

Commission for the lovely @kaidynsarell of a scene from Chapter 6 of her fanfic Sanguinis et Omnium Fractorum (AO3 link).

I can’t recommend her writing highly enough, so if you’re looking for something new to read then go read this!!

Thank you so much for asking me to do this, it was a lot of fun! 🥹

[xantineverdoer]

Clara knew Sebastian's eyes. He'd laughed at her when she'd said she wanted to paint them, but he'd not protested much when she'd knelt in front of him and taken his face in her hands. His cheeks had been warm and squished under her fingers. They'd been fuller back then. Still clinging to the remnants of boyhood. "They're just brown," He'd said. " It's nothing special." But Sebastian was never 'Just anything,' and his eyes were no different. She'd studied them intensely. Knew them perfectly. Every shade and hue. She knew the precise color of chestnut she needed to mix with the tiniest dab of dark umber. The shade of crushed pine that bled out from his pupils and the exact pattern of the swirls as two colors melted into one another. She knew if the sunlight hit them at just the right angle, she would find flecks of honeyed gold sprinkled through his iris. As though his freckles would not see themselves contained to his skin. - @kaidynsarell

[da-da-sk]

© da-da-sk