That makes the crow laugh. “I would like to see that.” He purred, hands moving off of her hands. “Surprise me.” He said, moving away from her.

He folded his arms. “You don’t want me to see?” He asks, head tilted

Lucanis is reluctant, but does as he’s told. Turning away, but not without a pout.

there is a god who demands to be bled for.

He is making dinner. Smells like…. Beef stew, with potatoes, and vegetables….

/ always 🥰

i urge you﹕ bite me. sign my death with your teeth.

there’s blood on my hands & i can’t wash it off. there’s blood on my hands & i can’t wash it off. there’s blood on my hands & i can’t wash it off. there’s blood on my hands & i can’t wash it off.

the blood on my teeth begins to taste like a poem, like religion, like the way you look at me.

They are welcome to some.

A soft gasp. He was bleeding. Shit…. The crow had a bleeding wing…. A look down to his side as he scurried into the shadows. The contract was complete. But…. This was not over yet. Blood seeped through the spaces of his fingers.

The crow is not easy to trust. He glared at them, before looking down to the wound.

A soft growl. He takes the hand offer and hubbled over.

Urgh….. The Lighthouse is making his eyeballs itch…

𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 me up and watch me 𝒅𝒊𝒆 .

a self—created monster.

/ hi pookies! Sorry for my inactivity recently! I will be here tomorrow!