Witchie
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About waiting for the end of things, and the frustration of feeling closure just out of reach.
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He wonders if mortals also mourn early, if they bemoan their wasted days and numbered nights. Do they feel as he does, that a dark shadow hovers over him, waiting to steal away what he cherishes?
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A blade has a certain universal utility, it’s true. The thin edge gleams in a way that is recognized by the hindbrain; survival jolts within her as she looks at it and she knows, this can hurt.
But she can hurt too. Her wings spread and it’s the good kind of ache; her feathers stretch in the sun and they, too, can cut.
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Bookmarked by Witchie
28 Feb 2022
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Like so many things, it begins with a touch.
Bookmarked by Witchie
28 Feb 2022
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Next Time, We'll Do Better (there won't be a next time) by tippertot
Fandoms: Pyre (Video Game)
04 Jan 2018
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“Volfred?”
“Yes?” he asks, not looking up.
“Will you write my final words?”
His pen stills, as does Pamitha's attending to her hair.
“...When the time comes, and only if you wish it.”
“It has, and I do.”
Bookmarked by Witchie
06 Jul 2021
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let's pick the truth we believe in by burningdarkfire
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
04 Jul 2021
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It is easily one of the top five most awkward dinners Caleb has ever attended. Everyone realizes very quickly that having the Empire’s Archmage of Civil Influence and the Dynasty’s Shadowhand at the same table means that not overstepping any lines is of crucial importance, and thus the conversation takes a rapid turn for the hilariously banal.
Astrid kills Trent while the Nein are in Aeor. Caleb returns to Rexxentrum to make some peace with his past and make some sense of his future.
There is never a simple way to stop loving someone.
Series
- Part 1 of doom days (i watch the world burn)
Bookmarked by Witchie
27 Jun 2021
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Lucien laughs again, and then bends, his fingers replacing his sword at Caleb's throat, "You make pretty sounds when you're hurt," he tells Caleb, like a compliment, like Caleb should be happy, "I will admit, I'll miss your little kitty-cats."
And he wraps one firm, strong hand around Caleb's throat, and hefts him into the air, his grip so tight that Caleb can't even scream anymore. He's bruising. "They'll miss them more, though," Lucien whispers in his ear, and then he opens his mouth, and Caleb can see something black and brackish, like a gas, like a poison, like cursed blood, and then Lucien is pulling Caleb towards him like a ragdoll and then Caleb can feel nothing but pain, a maelstrom of pain, and blood-hot fingers on his jaw.
Bookmarked by Witchie
14 May 2021