“kravitz. stop it.” it’s unusual to see taako fuss, to see him so serious like this. but the close call they just fought their way out of- well, it has him on edge. he knows, logically, that kravitz can’t die. that the spell that took him down would only, at worst, damage his physical form. but watching it happen, seeing the other man crumble before his very eyes, it scared him. so, he patches him up, uses some healing spells he only knows for emergencies, keeping his head down in the process. not letting kravitz see the fear in his eyes.

“just- just let me deal with this, okay?” his voice shakes, even as he carefully tries to keep it steady. he’s got a few scrapes as well, untreated as he pours his focus over the other, though they’re not his priority. sure, he’s the mortal one, and it’s clear kravitz will worry once he gets a good look at his split lip and busted nose, but he doesn’t care. keeps it hidden, his face ducked down while he tends to the other. “you can have a look later.” and he’s lying, with no intent on finishing his doting any time soon.

        He will grant   --   it looks much more frightening when the reaper’s vessel is injured compared to the average fleshy creature oozing blood.   The first time anyone sees wounds that give way to an unsettling void,   seeping trails of smoke like burning coals,   it always gave pause.   Even when not the first time,   there were those who took greater concern in it.   That’s at least why Kravitz thinks his boyfriend is so intent to burn spells on him rather than himself.

        Most vampires,   he finds,  are liken to feral beasts.   Humanity scraped together by a bloodlust and disrespect for the holy concept of life.   Perhaps this man is different on the outside.   Nevertheless,   his weapon is raised,   pages before him detailing the crimes of his undead target. 

‘    I've got this funny feeling that I just can't shake   ‘            bright iris’ look past the stars splattered above them,   searching for some answer to his own anxiety that refuses to present itself.   It’s not the usual worries he can name easily;   like something deeper clinging to his celestial core,   an otherworldly upset that’s been gnawing at him.

“There’s a body out on the pavement,   bout’ ten steps from the porch.”

YOU GOT: DEATH

You can be a bit intense and find yourself drawn to dark and mysterious things. You’ve been through a lot and have probably seen your fair share of endings, but probably cope with it through humor. On top of that, you are surprisingly easygoing — you’re open to change, try not to let past baggage weigh you down, and seek out new experiences.

/           CLOSED STARTER      +       @grimrecper     !

SLITHERING. WRITHING. CHOKING.      He saw nothing,   but he could feel everything,   the way the eyes watched as he struggled beneath the weight of an invisible force stronger than he ;   they’re like these terrors…  it feels like as if somebody was gripping my throat…   they’re not tremors,   they’re worse than tremors…  they’re these terrors,   it’s squeezing,   like somebody was gripping my throat…    AND THEN I OPEN MY EYES AND ALL I SEE IS FLAMES AND PEOPLE THAT I LOVE DYING,   he’d explained to his therapist.   She’d simply upped the dosage on his medication,   and yet,   here he was again,     crying out for somebody to help him but choking on the words nonetheless. 

It happened nearly every night.    He’d yet to learn how to manage the things he was seeing,   or cope with them.    John was beginning to believe he might not ever.

HAZEL HUES FLY OPEN,     chest heaving with each laboured breath,    hands…   searching,   reaching,   trying to find the other body in his bed but unable to see through involuntary tears that threatened to spill over onto his cheeks. 

“K - hey,    Kravitz,   are you there ?”   he asked,   his voice barely audible.

             it seems like no group can decide if gargoyles represent beasts to ward off evil,   or if they themselves are the evil,   turned to stone and put on display in a coincidentally practical way.   

        dim light illuminates the reapers face as he skims through answers   (  yes on John’s phone because he doesn’t have one and it’s not like the priest check’s his now bizarre google history  ).   the thought occurred to him that night as he lay awake during his nightly vigil,   maybe he’s like a gargoyle perched on the bed of a holy man rather than mounted on a cathedral,   trying his best to ward off the dark things that regularly terrorize his boyfriend.   the key word is trying as it feels like he’s doing a real SHIT job.   no amount of want or will changes anything. 

no sooner than he sighs and lay’s the phone aside,   vowing to at least relax,   does he hear the sound of blankets shifting as his warning before John is startled awake by his own dreams. 

colorful headcanons

what message would your muse send to their past self, if any?

‘  Don’t fight them so much it makes the memory worse.   Dying doesn’t have to be scary.  ‘

colorful headcanons

what subjects or topics does your muse avoid, because they bring up harmful / painful memories?

Mostly topics of swimming or why he avoids it especially. Along with that it’s not necessarily painful or harmful but it’s uncomfortable for him to talk about what little of his life he remembers, or the question of what exactly he is. Mostly being as old as he technically is he’s gotten over most everything that’s ever happened or just plain forgotten about some of the more difficult jobs he’s ever had. 

has your muse ever done anything that they winded up feeling incredibly guilty for in the end?

Plenty of things over the years. Any time he has to reap a teenager or a flat out child he feels horrible, even if it’s unavoidable. There are plenty of times as well he’s broken up with someone despite loving them, just for the sake of telling them they should try to find love with someone that can actually live a life with them and grow old. As much as he feels guilty for doing that he would feel just as bad letting someone date him for that long when it’s obvious they want the type of normal relationship he’s physically incapable of giving. 

when it comes to self-care, what does your muse do to take care of themselves? do they take care to spend time on it, or do they feel they don’t deserve it?