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this blog is now archived, everything will carry over to @punkmacabre 🖤

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after considering it a bit i'm gonna move john to a new blog — i've got inspiration for him but i feel so bogged by me changing things on here all the time ? so i'll be back with a revamp shortly < 33

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& if i said im thinking of starting john afresh possibly on a new blog, would you guys find me annoying 🤔 djsjsj

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happy (late) rosh hashanah will be back in 3 to 5 business days currently recovering from mitski's new album </3

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      ✞           ❝      ah     the     usual.     𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩     𝔞𝔫𝔡     𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨,     and     all     that.   

hellblazer edits ; 1 / ???

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↪     𝑺𝑳𝑬𝑬𝑷𝒀 𝑯𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾 .    (  a  series  of  sentence  starters  from  the  1999  film   “  sleepy hollow  ” .  adjust  phrasing  as  necessary . )  

help ,  here  —  lend a hand .

just a moment ,  if i may  —

i stand up for sense  &  justice .

do make certain you meet with success .

such a day for such a sad farewell .

this is such a silly game .

be a sport  &  stop complaining !

play along ,  you must .

forgive me ,  i didn’t know .

we haven’t heard your name yet ,  friend .

you need some manners .

if we could speak alone ?

how much have your superiors bothered to tell you ?

you are horribly old - fashioned ,  aren’t you ?

feel free to form your own opinion ,  though it appears you already have .

it seems i’ve made matters worse .

i’ll leave you to your business .

excuse me  …  i should apologize .

is it me ,  or are you this nervous around all women ?

do be a dear  &  tell me all about it .

sounds like an extraordinary place to live a life .

there is no such thing as magic .

to call a person superstitious is to imply they fear magic .

poets have silly notions .

you do believe me now ,  don’t you ?

you need less big words ,  &  more common sense .

what the hell are you doing ?

i am not here for revenge .  i am here to bring justice .

i manage fine alone .

i deserve to help you .  don’t you see how much this means ?

what are you spying on ?

i beg you ,  no more ,  please .

i will not allow it .  i will not !

why was i not told of this ?

you should step outside .

sorry for disturbing you .  i thought a forgotten candle was burning .

having trouble sleeping ?

i have something to show you ,  if you have a moment .

these scars .  how did you get them ?

oh ,  you are hopeless .

i have a gift for you .  true magic which even you will not be able to deny .

are you saying i should be frightened ?

what will it take for you to realize this is no laughing matter ?

don’t be afraid  …  don’t be afraid .

you promised justice .  people have put their trust in you .

why would you do such a thing ?

leave me .  you are not welcome here .

allow me some time .

the things i said to you before  …  i was wrong to say them .

every word you spoke had truth in it .

if you want me to go ,  i will .  do you want me to leave ?

i no longer know what i think or what i feel .

why are you so afraid ?  is there truly such harm in uncertainty ?

i should be going  …  good day to you .

i’m one of the few people who likes you .

i apologize if i worried you .

my god  …  what has happened ?

yes ,  i did notice that ,  thank you .

i am a bad habit .  there’s nothing for it .

don’t let him get you .

lay still ,  [ name ] .  do not move .

i’m drawing bad blood from the wound .

you were half - drowned when they found you .

i serve a fine purpose alive .

midnight seems an appropriate time .

hide in my room  &  bolt the door til i return .

i was getting worried .

do you have anything to clean it with ?

i know you saw me .

i know you followed me last night .

i appreciate your concern .

you are so upset now  …  &  yet ,  you seemed in such good spirits last night .

why have i not seen your face for so long ?

i have been reading your journal .

what would you have me believe ?

if you think i am behind this ,  say it .

call me a liar ,  then ,  &  a  murderer .

what is stopping you ?  what has happened to your ability to transcend sentimentality ?

don’t dare stand looking as if you still care for me ,  after all that you have said .

if i were to confess ,  would that ease your suffering ?  would that make it easier for you to hate me ?

the next person to lay hands on me will have a bullet .

you do not know all that has happened .

why  …  why are you like this ?

to hell with this place  &  all the people here .

won’t you change your mind ?  what can i say to convince you ?

take me with you .  there’s nothing left for me here .

forgive me .  i failed you .

you  …  you’re alive .

no one will believe your lies .

i am not going to kill you .  not me  …

you cannot kill what is already dead .

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( ✞ )    ⎯⎯    @whitelace    :    sender  sits  down  quietly  next  to  receiver  after  receiver  kills  someone.

         guilt     breaks     the     discomposure.     whiskey     burns     at     the     periphery,     magic     seething     by     calloused     fingertips.     stomach     suspended     in     frightful     atrophy,     a wretched revelation     brings     him     to     the     ground,     concrete     sticky     with     𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍     𝚕𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚛     &     𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎     𝚊𝚜𝚑.     neon     disillusions     the     lonesome     company;     red     lights     from     inside     bleeds     into     the     morbid     sight,     making     spilled     ichor     sickly     vivid.     how     quiet     the     world     becomes     when     contrition     rings     in     the     ear,     heart     pounding    quicker    with    every    second.    behold:     the     repercussions     of     bloody     reckless     actions.     body     lifeless,     sprawled     out     carelessly.     [     incantations     mixed     with     drunken     slurry,     old     bastard     should've     looked     where     he     was     going     /     where     does     bruises     end     &     mortem     begins     ? ]     

he     can't     rip     his     gaze     away.     oh     how     the     sight     taunts     at     him     !     the     mind     fraught,     enraptured     entirely.     [     look     at     the     mess     you've     made,     johnny;     remember     the     ugly     price     paid.     ]     desperation     tries     to     steady     the     bloodied     hand,     grasping     delicately     at     a     crumpled     pack     of     silk     cuts.     it's     the     vice     which     tugs     the     stare     away,     all     colour     from     the     hues     disappeared.     ❛     y've     got     a     light,     love     ?     ❜ poor     taste     to     say     you'd     kill     for     one.         

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silence lay steadily.

things haunt, joshua jennifer espinoza // giovanni's room, james baldwin // through me (the flood), hozier // flowers in the attic, v.c. andrews // i am in eskew, jon ware // anatomy, kitty horrorshow // the haunting of hill house, shirley jackson

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( ✞ )    ⎯⎯    @ducygnenoir    :    sender  kisses  receiver  to  taste  the  blood  on  their  busted  lip   😳

         busted     &     blue:     garlands     of     bruises     crossing     across,     a     poor     man's     constellation     across     his     body.     storms     threaten     with     greying     rumbles,     overcasting    the     backstreet     alleyway.     hellfire     raptures     inside     /     voices     alight     &     sulfur     burns.     ascetic     bite     the     moment     they     venture     outside,     body     relying     on     one     another.     you     can     only     wander     for     so     long,     limbs     buckle     aside     agony     ⎯⎯     𝚌𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚢     𝚊𝚗     𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐     𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏     𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝,     pushed     aside     to     gracefully     crash     by     the     brick     wall.     let     her     go     gently     before     limbs     ache     into     the     ground.     fresh     air's     relentless,     raven     dark     cold     pricks     at     the     neck.     he     longs     for     warmth,     for     quiet.     eyes     glisten     with     a     spectral     kind     of     lethargy,     pub's     flicking     radiance     as     some     holy     glow     behind     her.     [     a     sight     in     all     𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝     &     𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞     /     the     beholden,     threadbare     smile:     as     if     he'd     simply     unravel     .  .  .     ]             

he     prays     for     warmth     &     it's     answered.     stature     instinctively     leans     in,     taste     of     sherry     intwined     with     hints     of     iron;     peculiar     kind     of     concoction,     one     he     savours     as     a     thirsty     man.     [     bottle     it     up     if     possible;     you'd     get     drunk     on     the     feeling     every     night     if     possible.     ]     the     thought's     sobering,     as     she     pulls     away     &     the     weight     shifts     back     into     the     wall     ⎯⎯     figure     not     quite     upright,     guilt     leadens     at     the     shoulders.

a     chill     drags     down     the     spine,     his      laugh     rattles     like     a     cough.     someone's     walked     over     his     grave,     an     arm     impulsively     moves     to     coil     around     the     ribs: christ,     he's     never     felt     more     alive.     ❛     if     that's     all     it     takes,     i'll     just     have     to     find meself     a     scrap     every     night     &     get     you     to     rescue     me.     ❜                             

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( ✞ )    ⎯⎯    @theanguish    :    look  at  me.  this  is  who  i  am,  no  matter  how  much  you  pretend  it  isn't.

         her     words     reverberate.     blood     pools     /     thick     tar     resonates     in     the     fractures     of     silence.     when     she     speaks,     he     shuts     it;     voice     a     polaroid     memory's     desperate     to     retain.     the     edges     sharp,     the     core     absence     of     detail.     pallid     hues     witness     the     sight     &     for     all     his     lies     ⎯⎯     sacrilege     rotten     between     the     teeth     ⎯⎯     he     can't     𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚕     𝚝𝚑𝚎     𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛.     the     scent     savoured     in     the     air,     stomach     swinging     by     an     untethering     rope.     look     at     me,     john.     &     it's     such     a     sight;     blood     on     hers,     [     BLOOD     ON     HIS:     who     did     it     belong     to     this     time     ?     diluted     in     the     palms     by     a     cowardly     man's     sweat.     ]     ❛     i'm     looking.     ❜       

nothing's     fair     between     love     &     war:     proclamation     caught     between     aching     lungs     &     oppressive     throat.     never     stop     moving,     never     look     back;     outrun     towering     shadows     which     command.     heart     rattles     in     punk     arrhythmic,     hands     finding     a     way     closer.     stillness     haunts,     first     in     a     long     time.     𝐓𝐖𝐎     𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆     𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒,     caught     with     bared     teeth.     ❛     consider     all     bets     off,     then.     perhaps     y'er     right,     maybe     i've     been     a     bit     of     a     fool.     "     hope's     a     dangerous     thing     to     have,     &     yet,     it     remains     in     the     palm     of     his     hand,     tightly.     ❛     think     a     lil'     blood     gonna     scare     me     away     ?     come     off     it.     you     &     i     are     stuck     in     a     right     nasty     lil' problem,     see⎯     ❜     lacerated     capillaries     outstretch,     ❛     bloody     mess,     we     are.     ❜

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Oliver Jackson-Cohen as Peter Quint The Haunting of Bly Manor | 1.03

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the three theban plays: antigone; oedipus the king; oedipus at colonus, robert fagles // the blind assassin, margaret atwood // wolf in white van, john darnielle // the iliad, homer // certain magical acts, alice notley // lake mungo, dir. joel anderson (2008) // snow and dirty rain, richard siken // i’m thinking of ending things, dir. charlie kaufman (2020).

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blood, blood, gallons of the stuff ! a collection of icky, bloody prompts for those who like to choose violence. actions are reversible. general warning for blood, violence, murder, death.

𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 :

" that's a lot of blood. "

" it isn't mine. "

" what did you do ? "

[ sigh ] " what did you do ? "

" come on. have a taste. "

" holy shit, are you okay ? "

" it looks worse than it feels. "

" you should see the other guy. "

" it's a good look on you. you should get covered in blood more often. "

" lean on me. "

" oh my god. oh my god, oh my god, what the fuck ? is that what i fucking think it is ? "

" . . . gross. "

[ standing over a body ] " oops. "

" is that a fucking body ? "

" look, i'm sorry, okay ? "

" what the hell happened ? "

" before you say anything, it wasn't me. "

" at least it wasn't me this time. "

" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you pretend it isn't. "

" look at me. this is who i am, no matter how much you wish it wasn't. "

" i'm not scared of you. "

" you don't scare me. "

" shut up and let me help you. "

" i got your shirt all bloody. "

" let's get you cleaned up. "

" that looks like it hurts. "

" i'm fine, just. . . give me a minute. "

" we are so fucked. "

" what the fuck is wrong with you ? "

" are you gonna help me clean it up or not ? "

" the fucker deserved it. "

" red looks good on you. "

" what the hell did you do ; tap - dance all over the body with ice - skates ? "

" what, did you run over the body with your car a couple times after ? "

" i. . . i didn't mean to. . . "

" sorry. fuck, i'm sorry. "

" this isn't what it looks like. "

" it was an accident. "

" motherfucker ran right into my knife, i swear. "

" people need to look both ways before crossing. . . bullets. "

" would you believe me if i said wrong place, wrong time ? "

" hey, look at me. i don't care. are you okay ? "

" they deserved it, right ? please tell me they deserved it. "

" you're bleeding. "

" what the fuck happened to you ? "

" you're getting blood on the carpet. "

" sit down before you fall down. "

" that looks like a you problem. "

𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙿𝙾𝙺𝙴𝙽 :

sender spits out a mouthful of blood at receiver's feet

sender spits out a mouthful of blood on receiver

receiver finds sender covered in blood

sender tries desperately to stop receiver's bleeding

sender helps receiver clean up after a kill

sender wipes blood from receiver's face with a washcloth

sender wipes blood from receiver's face with their thumb

sender licks receiver's blood off a knife

sender licks receiver's blood off their thumb

sender lights up a cigarette a foot away from someone they killed before offering one to receiver

receiver finds sender stood over a body

sender stitches up receiver's wound [ optional wound placement ]

sender digs their finger into receiver's wound [ optional wound placement ]

sender frantically checks receiver for injuries under all the blood

sender guides receiver's bloody hands under a faucet / water source and begins washing them clean

sender bites receiver hard enough to draw blood

sender tilts receiver's head back to staunch a nosebleed

sender draws a smiley face out of the blood they spilled :)

receiver finds sender cleaning up a kill in a daze

sender looks receiver in the eye as they shoot / stab / kill someone

sender ruffles receiver's hair, getting blood all over their hand

sender gets some of receiver's blood on them and makes a face

sender flicks blood at receiver to annoy them

sender stomps in a pool of blood to splash it on receiver

sender slips in their victim's blood but receiver steadies them before they can fall

sender steadies receiver when they slip in the blood sender spilled

receiver comes home to sender covered in blood and waiting for them with all the lights off

sender spits out a tooth and it hits receiver

sender tries to wipe blood off receiver but the blood on their hands just makes it worse

sender takes an injury meant for receiver

sender shows up on receiver's doorstep covered in blood

sender sits down quietly next to receiver after receiver kills someone

sender punches receiver in the mouth

receiver watches sender lick the blood off their fingers like its cheeto dust

sender helps receiver bury a body

sender hugs receiver just to get their victim's blood all over them <3

sender hugs receiver just to get their blood all over them <3

sender leans on receiver for support

sender kills someone to protect receiver

receiver finds sender in a frenzy maiming a body after they've already killed it

sender kills someone and the blood spatters on receiver

receiver finds sender desperately trying to wash the blood off of themself

sender kisses receiver to taste the blood on their busted lip

sender shoots / stabs receiver non - fatally as a warning

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d'you ever just think about the parallels between john and lucifer . . . in the sense of them both were blamed by and rebelled against their father figures ( lucifer with god i.e "you were blameless in your ways / till unrighteousness was found in you" + john having done nothing but be born, and yet, still blamed for his mother's death by his father. ), left abandoned by a system that failed from protecting them, and how they'd both end up in the ninth circle of hell ? also known as treachery. where those who committed betrayals end up in a frozen, desolate lake. to quote: "as they denied all human ties, so are they bound only by the unyielding ice." ( lucifer in dante's inferno being stuck from the waist up + in the house of mystery short, the outside is also deprived + grey, as if hell's frozen over ) and the way hell sometimes is so intrinsically connected by a person's guilt + fears, john's hell would be barren: bone chillingly frozen + alone with nothing but his thoughts clawing at him, if anything because oh so many pissed off demons would love the chance, he'd be stuck in an eternal manhunt from demons who have his loved ones' faces. but nonetheless, alone.

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#    ( 𝔮. )     —     ◟   WHICH  TRAGIC  DEATH  WOULD  YOU  SUFFER  ???

THE SACRIFICE:

you     die     saving     the     thing     you     love.     maybe     it     is     family,     friends,    perhaps     even     a     cause.     they     will     carry     your     face     with     them     for     the     rest     of     their     lives,     &     every     milestone     they     pass     will     make     them     think     of     you.     it     does     not     matter     because     you     won't     be     there     to     experience     it     with     them.     years     down     the     line,     they     will     meet     people     who     do     not     even     know     the     weight     of     your     name     upon     their     skin.     this     is     what     your     selflessness     gets     you     in     the     end.

tagged by: @ducygnenoir ( mwah 🖤 ) tagging: @ofsoul, @whitelace, @lakeletters ( zee & daenerys ), @selinaes, @lusifr & if you see this ur tagged now < 33

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        &    what    a    revelation     to    be    had:     it    could    be    worse.   there's    no     fortune    to    be    found    with    him    /    not    when    truth    contorts    into    something     entirely    ghoulish,    figures     twisted    in    the    rough    palms.    [    abrasive,    lacerated     capillaries:    wounded    from    such    unfamiliar    tenderness.    ]    ❛    attagirl.    ❜    baritone    commends    with   a   sly   grin,   glass   pushed   forward   as   layla    sat.    blight   humour   relishes    in   the    appeared    grimace,    echo    of    auspicious    chuckle,   lingering     within    the   trail   of   smoke    ⎯⎯    could’ve    picked    somewhere   nicer,    perhaps    marrow   knew   this   was    all    he    deserved.   selfishly    dragging    those   around   to   his   own   circle.   

❛    bloody sick   lady    you   are   to    watch    a    poor    schmuck    suffer.   ❜   how    very   biblical,    call    it    working   class   pragmatism;    burden   of   so   called    shitty   alcohol    shared   between   the   two,   glass    lifted   &   titled   upward    in   tandem   with   a    grin.    the   liquor   burns   down   the   throat,   a    much   welcomed    stupor   with   a    drawn    swill.    he's   a   somber   witness   to   layla's    movements;   serpentine   towards,    a   distance   still   maintained.    [    YOU'D   BLAME   DIVINE    INTERVENTION;   paths   intertwine   like   threads   stitched   together.   an   act    of    mercy    or   by    good   graces   ?    either    way    . . .   ]    ❛    i'm    not   complain'.   a    drink's,   a   drink.    ❜   been   a    while    since   he's   shared   one,   too.   

halfway     between     another     sip     &     drag,     [     A     GLIMPSE     FRACTURED,     something     human     glisten     in     silvery     hues.     ]     before     surprise     atrophies     in     the     nape.     caught     off     guard,     inside     of     his     chest     thrums     as     he     sets     the     glass     down.     ❛     christ,     love.     whatever     happened     to     patience     being     a     bleedin'     virtue     ?     ❜     eyebrows     knit,     point     taken.     ❛     cracks     are     showing     'round     the     city.     last     week     i     found     a     solider     demon     crawlin'     'round     in     a     kid's     skin.     ❜     his     voice     weighs     heavy,     memory     fresh     like     the     blood     [     the     phantom     feeling     still     lingers     ⎯⎯     last     resorts     manage     to     save,     but     instinct     knew     it     was     only     the     beginning.     ]     ❛     tried     me     best     to     stay     away,     just     couldn't     ignore     the     signs,     love.     ❜                     

❛ suppose it could be worse, ❜ she drawls, monotone; laced between each word is faint amusement, though her expression remains void of emotion. ( it was easier that way, she would say, but she dares not. ) ❛ suppose i could be getting mauled this moment. though this bar ( . . . ) ❜ she trails off. it was fucking disgusting. at that, she smiles a bit, cigarette hanging preciously from between her bruised and swollen lips; a force of habit, she would say, sinking her teeth into the tender, wounded flesh at the first sign of anxiety. ❛ kinda — uh, fuck — making a wild guess it isn't you making sure we meet again and again anyway. though, ah, you could admit you were in desperate need of my company and you cannot live without me, if that is the case. ❜ and she grins, her tone sardonic as ever.

she makes a face at his choice of alcohol; certainly not her first choice. but then again, he wasn't exactly the wine snob she was. ❛ unfortunately, i think i enjoy watching you struggle too much to get up. ❜ despite her words, layla rises from the grimy seat, and plucks as glass from his arms, ❛ but i would hate to waste some shitty alcohol. ❜ tension is thick in the air, something was coming. she just knew it. she would avoid it, whatever it was, for as long as she could. instead of taking a seat back into the booth, she leans upon the tabletop, legs lazily crossed / i'm avoiding the obvious. curious as she was about the reason they ran into each other once more, she could not quite bring herself to ask either. silence descends heavily upon her, awkward and ever annoying; she hated not knowing what to say. normally, she had a smart remark at the tip of her tongue; now, she glanced aside, like a nervous schoolgirl. i should know what to say to him, of all people. ❛ so, ❜ layla breaks the silence. ❛ if you aren't going to explain, i am gonna take it as you're madly in love and cannot stay away from me. ❜ and there it was. discarding her cigarette with her free hand, her eyes flicker to him, smile, at last, reaching her eyes as she took a long drink from her glass. fuck. it was worse than i thought.