Ive Had To Listen To Silence While Writing Violetsince I Started This Blog& I FINALLY Found Anartist

i’ve had to listen to silence while writing violet  since i started this blog& i FINALLY found an  artist she likes.                      hallelfuckingujah.

ϟ | m a g i c (  something still to struggle with  ) &  even with modern wicca weaved into every fiber  of being & breath - still, the literal hocus pocus of the matter drove stomach into knots. not for fear nor judgement. but for the simple fact that family could be taken from heart.    perhaps it is for fear, just not the type you would consider. a quiet nod.              “ i wish you’d come to me sooner ---- “  up, step up three& kneeling with broken in denim & curious caring hands.        cupping cheek - chin.  thumb aiding in brief examination of tired grassy& natural meadows    - ones far more wise than the  churning dark seas of his own.  a breath, thought.                              “ i won’t tell delia                                                   but you should ---           ( beat, two )     tell me every symptom.                                   spare no detail - i’ll do my best. “ 

Of course it couldn’t be that easy. She ought to know better, really. Does know better, because… Beckett Braddock is a good man, maybe the best man she has ever known, and thank God he’s married to her daughter. 

“I don’t—want to worry her.” Until it’s time to worry her. “Just… keep this between us for a little while, until we both have a better handle on it. I haven’t been feeling well for… I don’t know, a few months.” Liar. She knows all too well exactly how long it’s been. Longer than she wished to let on. Getting her mouth around the words is harder than she expected; she breathes out, swallows hard and tries again. “I think it’s tied to my magic, my… my title. My successor, the next Supreme, will eventually siphon away my power and my vitality. I have to… pass on for her to come into her own. I didn’t think it would happen so soon, and I don’t—I don’t know if that’s what’s really happening or if I’m… if something else is wrong. I’ve been all over—doctors in New York, and Paris, and London, and here in town. None of them can come to any final conclusion other than… there’s nothing to be done. You were my last resort, so… here I am.”

vampires always like “i could kill you if I wanted” like? yeah? so could another human being. so could a dog. so could a dedicated duck. you arent special

@mosaiichearts | asked for angry max

📎|       “ HEY   ! ----                             knockoff   barbie ! “ 

ϟ | “ fiona --- i wasn’t expecting you           this evening, did -- everything alright --? ” stop, sit -- a simple man, yes. but an idiotic or blind  man, no. everything was NOT alright,  tone told so.  the air & auras -- the fidget of familiar &  yet foreign fashion upon mother in laws fingers. a tell tale sign.                                    “ as much as i owe you, ma’                                        i cannot promise to keep something                                        from my wife    --- not until i become                                        aware of the circumstance ...              -- what can i do for you ? “ 

@adroitbedfellows asked for feelings

Nerves always manifest first in her hands. Twisting together, tensing and releasing with each anxious breath. She has let herself in, sat herself down on the cushioned chair there in the little foyer. 

The exhaustion is evident in her eyes, in the pallor of her skin and even in her usually elegant posture—still elegant, of course, but missing some of the poise, the composure she’s always managed to uphold. 

“—I trust you,” are the first words out of her mouth, though she can barely bring herself to look her son-in-law square in the eye. “And I need you to give me the same courtesy. I’m here because I need your help, and I… need to know you won’t tell Delia.”