#witchlyy

“I brought them.”

How long has he been gone? He’s lost track, but he did say he would bring the other some interesting books from his collection. Better late than never, he assumed.

But as soon as he stepped inside, he was greeted by the feeling of dread flooding his body. A door opening to a past he had long buried away, now crawling back to the surface like an unwanted guest.

The daze is enough for Sevren to drop the books he was holding, and instead step back with an escaped gasp.

“...”

       He doesn’t know whether to confirm or deny that he is.  There’s no mistaking his frustration with the process, he’s absolutely still trying, but he doesn’t want Deitrich to have a hand in his ridicule.  As if he doesn’t have enough reasons to be bitter about this guy, he doesn’t need that to be added to the pile.

       Still…  what’s the point in lying?  He has no pride anymore.  All the people that respected him, he left behind.  He’s in a district that he doesn’t know, with people that don’t care about him.  He works his menial shift in his menial job and then goes home and drinks.  What else is there in life for him now?

       Simon tugs his hat a little further downwards, avoiding eye contact.

Two miles north of the imperial palace, still within its walls, hidden among the trees was the Shirogane estate. Generally the road there was blocked off by a wall of shrubbery, it being off-limits for guests and the public, but today it was gone.

As empress, Hikari normally lived in the palace and only visited her childhood home on certain occasions. 

Just past her home’s garden were pillars, lined up in two rows and carved of wood. They were the pathway leading to a flight of stairs going up a hill. Hikari was standing just feet from the pillars, a frown on her face as she stared long and hard up the path. To anyone else, there was no path, simply dense woodlands. 

It was only a matter of time before she cracked.

She knew what she was doing wasn’t healthy. She was told time and time again that she couldn’t keep repressing her feelings even if she gave herself ‘a little time to let them out’, and she was even warned that eventually it was going to catch up with her. She thought that as long as she didn’t ignore them completely, as long as she gave herself just the smallest bit of self care, that she wouldn’t be such a hypocrite that preached being kind to yourself when she gave herself the bare minimum.

And so of course the only thing she could do was cry in this forest, unsure if she wanted someone to hear her or not. Unsure if she wanted someone to come in and comfort her and tell her everything would be okay or if she just wanted to cry it out in peace. Why could she never be decisive? Why couldn’t she ever do something right? Why did there always need to be something that caused her to go off the edge and never be sure if she wanted to sink or swim?

send “DRINK!” for a vampire version of my muse to drink blood from yours! add +reverse for the reverse scenario. || ACCEPTING

This was mortifying, but Touma was just so hungry. He was just a baby vampire, and hadn’t yet learned to control his hunger. At one point, he even tried to drink from Henri, but... very quickly got his ass handed to him by them. 

Note to self: Don’t fuck with a mage.

But here he was, drinking from a mage. Luckily, he had come to his sense and pulled away before he could do any serious damage.