#✦ starter. ╱ you’ll hear me howling outside your door.

[cataschism]

❛ I tried making a birthday cake for you, @grievedifferent. I know it’s kinda goopy, but.. ❜ On a still-warm tray on their counter, Beth has concocted a brown cake, vaguely rectangular, with bits of longer, thinner stripes of cake on top. ❛ I realized it’s upside down, but it won’t work right side up… ❜ Beth pats away some crumbs from the bottom, to the corners of the pan. Small, painted from a brush with food - dye, the cake says ROSEBUD. Beth wants to be a researcher, but maybe she should learn how to bake cakes first. ❛ I remember it from the movie, even though I’m pretty sure the real rosebud isn’t red velvet. ❜ Eyes snapping - up to watch Josh’s expression. ❛ Happy birthday, citizen brother. ❜

[mcsqueeneys]

Massacre Girl's Guide to Holiday Doorbusters

By Massacre Girl

Look, I love a good deal as much as the next Rakdos, and there’s nothing that puts me in the holiday spirit quite like waiting outside someone’s door, busting in at midnight, and hearing the screams all around me.

Still, it’s important to not get carried away by the last-minute madness, and to shop smart this holiday season.

Luckily for you, your girl's here to help you get the most for your zib.

For example, let’s examine these “deals”:

Wursthof Gore-met 5-Piece Riteknife Set – 79.99 zibs @ Blood Bath & Beyond

A high-quality riteknife always makes a good gift – every Rakdos kitchen/torture dungeon needs one. But don’t be fooled by a famous brand – the Gore-met version is Wursthof’s budget line, and the compromises in quality are apparent. A 10-inch riteknife is the shortest length I recommend, but the model included with this set is a 7-inch weakling. Just try cutting through a femur with that! The only other cutlery is a 5-inch boning knife (no such unitaskers allowed in my torture dungeon, thank you very much!) and a pair of dishwasher-safe shears.

“But, Massacre Girl, where are the fourth and fifth pieces in this ‘5-piece set?’” you may well be asking. Well, apparently Blood Bath & Beyond counts both the block and the sharpening steel towards the total! So stay away from this so-called "deal" – the only thing this riteknife set will be murdering is your budget.

Black Apron 90-Day Trial – 49.99 zibs/month @ BlackApron.com

Meal kits may be all the rage, but color me skeptical of the trend. Black Apron recently made a splash with their celebrity endorsement by a certain well-known necromancer, and I can understand the appeal of raising your own undead without having to trek to the store. But, take away the famous name, and what you’re really paying for month after month are corpses and corpse dirt in a cardboard box. Now, if I need corpses, I’ll make my own corpses – and don’t get me started on the environmental costs of shipping dirt across the multiverse in a box!

Plus, read the fine print – once the introductory trial expires, you’ll be locked into a monthly contract which seems like it would be absolute murder to break.

Howl of Duty 666: Red/Black Ops – 39.99 zibs (with coupon) @ Maul-Mart

Sure, every Rakdos kid wants the new Howl of Duty, but there’s more to this “deal” than meets the eye. First of all, this coupon is only good for the X-Spell Box version – owners of SwitchBlade or SlayStation consoles are out of luck. And, besides, I’m worried about the effect these violent games are having on our youth. For starters, the online communities in these fandoms are just toxic. And, for another thing, I don’t want our kids sitting on the sofa all day, joining virtual clans, and pretending to murder virtual Azorius.

They should be playing outside, joining real gangs, and murdering actual Azorius.

[rosy-cheekx]

Or, if you're more in the mood for something fluffier, “It’s too cold for you to come out here without a jacket on” from the protective sentence starters!

Combined this prompt with your “ for the holiday fluff prompts, how about any combination of one or more of these: ❄️ ☃️ ☕️ 🥘 🧩 ~ “ and went with flurries + holiday coffee date. hope you don’t mind it being a little derivative!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370325

--

It had been a few years since there had been a white Christmas. Snow in London didn’t last long anyway; it would be snowplowed off the streets and turn gray and slushy or melt under the trampling boots of passerby on their way to work or school. This meant that even when it did snow, no one held out much hope for it to last longer than a day, two at most.

All this to say that Jon didn’t think much of the snow when he saw the flurries drifting outside his bedroom window. It had clearly just started snowing– didn’t even seem like it was sticking. He really didn’t think he’d need a coat. His bus route took him less than a block away from the institute and he resented the way his puffy winter coat made him feel: bulky and heavy, restricted at his joints. His thick white woolen sweater, made with oversized yarn and thrown over his collared shirt, would work fine. He thought he looked rather fit like this, hair half-knotted and curling over his shoulders. Tim would give him shit for having an “academia” aesthetic but, he “worked in academics, Tim. Every aesthetic I have is an academia aesthetic.”

Jon was, as usual, the first person to arrive at the archives. Diligently, he began his workday ritual, cranking up the thermostat and pulling the day calendar on his office wall to reveal the 23 December and chuckling to himself at today’s cat: all grey and massive, green eyes staring at the observer innocently. Sasha was next, blustering in her red peacoat, calling a greeting, and shaking it off before hanging it on the coat hook in the bullpen. Then came Martin and Tim, who had begun carpooling after realizing they lived less than two blocks away from each other. Greetings from the pair, “Happy Early Christmas”es. Now, the quiet, empty archives hummed with life and warmth. Jon, now seated his desk in his small office, could hear the chatter taking place in the main office space, the electric kettle humming in the breakroom, the Christmas music being argued over from the small speakers. All felt right. The Archivist smiled to himself and settled into work.

-

“What the hell? Tim!”

“That wasn’t me, Sash! I’m right here!”

“Calm down, you two. It was just the lights.”

The commotion outside his office confirmed to Jon that he wasn’t the only one whose office lights had suddenly blinked once and cut out. For just a moment he was reminded of Julia Montauk’s story about Mr. Pitch, but shook his head. They were fine. He stood and made his way to the breakroom, eyeing the also dark room, now lit by three phone torches. Being the underground section of the Institute meant they didn’t have much by way of windows, save for the single squat one high up in the breakroom, and Jon could see from here something was blocking the light that usually streamed through.

“I think it’s the whole Institute,” Jon offered unhelpfully. “Can one of you ring Rosie and check?” He turned and wandered absently into the breakroom to investigate the window. It was covered with snow. Frowning, Jon grabbed a chair and dragged it beneath the pane, climbing and pushing on the window.

“I think you need to unlatch it.”

“Jesus Christ, Martin!” Jon swayed and recovered his balance. How could he not hear such a large man come up behind him? He did try the latch though and pushed again. Once, twice, th-

“Fuck! Cold, cold, cold!” The snow that had piled up against the window had shifted and fallen through the gap Jon had so helpfully created; his face, glasses, and sweater generously dusted with cold and white. He sputtered and brushed it off himself, feeling dot of cold seep into his skin. The pane had been cleared though, and Jon could see, as he shoved the window closed again, blustering snow sweeping through the alleyway the window looked out on to. Jon turned back, seeing Martin’s face red with the effort of suppressing a laugh. “It’s snowing. Hard.”

“Yeah,” his voice wavered, lips parting in a warm smile. “I-I guessed that.” Even so, Martin offered Jon a hand and he took it, stepping off the now-wet chair with little grace. “Let’s see if there’s word from Rosie. Sasha was calling her when I came in.” Jon nodded wordlessly, holding Martin’s a little too long (it was so warm! And he was so cold) before letting go and leading Martin into the bullpen.

Sasha was lounging in her office chair, a finger curled in her thick hair, with her legs on her desk and her free hand holding her mobile to her ear. She was nodding, brow furrowed, and kicking Tim idly, who was perched on her desk, feet perched on the handles of one of her desk drawers and shining his torchlight in her eyes while she scowled at him. “Alright, brilliant Rosie. Tell Elias we send our warmest, fondest regards. Especially Tim. Oh—What’s that, Tim?” She eyed her perched friend mischievously; his eyes were wide, and he shook his head vigorously. “Oh. Tim says to tell Elias that he’s deeply in love with him and has been since the day he started.” She listened for a moment and nodded gravely. “Mmhmm. Thank you Rosie. I’ll let him know. Happy Christmas!”

“You little-”

Jon cleared his throat and Tim snapped his head up, eyes alight with mirth. “Bossman, I’m being slandered! You can’t expect me not to defend myself.” Jon chose to ignore his comment, though his expression was soft.

“Sasha, any word from Rosie?”

“Mhmm. Two things. Firstly, power’s out in the whole building. Apparently there’s a bit of a blizzard. Elias said we can have the day off. Secondly, Elias said he’s promoting Tim to his personal ass-isstant.” Tim howled and lunged at Sasha, who was giggling madly. Martin had lost it now too and was chuckling behind his hand at the scene of the taller woman scooting away on her rolling office chair from her dear friend. Even Jon scoffed, eyes following the pair affectionately. Jon didn’t notice he was shivering until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw the silhouette of Martin.

“Are you cold? I’m feeling it too. I think the heat’s off with the power.”

Jon shrugged noncommittally, turning his eyes back to the vague forms of Sasha and Tim, who had given up on their wrestling and were sharing the office chair, Tim lounging across Sasha’s lap and scrolling on his phone. At this, Sasha perked up, nudging Tim. “If it’s gonna get cold in here and we have the day off, we should go get coffee! There’s a cute new place across the street from the park. Steamed Beans or something.”

“Beaned Steams,” Tim mumbled under his breath, extricating himself from Sasha’s lap and getting to his feet, smoothing back his hair before refluffing it expertly. “I’m game. But Sasha’s buying my drink because she’s being a bully.”

Martin nodded, rocking on his toes behind Jon. “I’m in. But the snow is intense. Bundle up if you don’t want frostbite.”

Silence stretched in front of Jon. Of course he hadn’t thought to bring a coat today. There was no way his sweater could weather the snowstorm going on outside. He’d have to say no and wait it out, hope the snow dies down. Or he could just embrace it. The park wasn’t that far away…Four or five blocks. Not far enough to call a cab and too far to walk unprotected. Shit.

He’d been quiet for too long. The other three were poised, waiting for his response. “I don’t think you would let me say no if I tried,” he relented. Tim whooped and clapped Jon on the shoulder as he passed him, grabbing his coat and winding a scarf around his neck.

“That’s the spirit, Sims! C’mon, get your coats and we’ll leave before the weather gets worse.” Jon meandered into his office, the chill hanging in the air, and searched the room for any abandoned coats he may have left behind. He was a bit forgetful (and a bit of a packrat) but he was pretty sure he’d taken home his forgotten clothes before Halloween, when Tim was threatening to dress up as him for the archive party Sasha had hosted. The only thing he found was a pair of fingerless gloves, abandoned in his desk drawer. He slipped them on, flexing his hands against the knit fabric, and shrugged inwardly. It would have to do.

Jon closed the door to his office, locking it as he did so, before turning to see his assistants standing in the hallway, wincing at the lights they shone at him. “Jon? Where’s your coat?” Sasha’s voice was equal parts accusing and patient, like reminding a child to wash their hands.

“I-well, I didn’t bring one today,” Jon flushed like he had been caught in a lie. “The snow wasn’t that bad when I left the house. And I, I don’t like the way it feels to wear one.” He held up hands helplessly. “I have these.”

Martin crossed his arms over his vested chest and the tails of his scarf. “It’s too cold for you to go out there without a jacket on. Too windy. You’ll catch pneumonia and die or something.”

“You can’t catch pneumonia like that, Martin. It’s a wives’ tale.” “You get what I mean! You can’t just wear a sweater and button up and fingerless gloves of all things and call it winter gear.”

Tim was stroking his chin thoughtfully, head cocked. “Would the old married couple shut up? I think I have something.” He took off his coat and unzipped the inside, extricating a fleece lining from the waterproof shell. “Here,” he draped it over Jon’s shoulder when he refused to take it. “If you don’t wear it, Martin has to buy all our coffees. You wouldn’t want to do that to sweet ol’ Marto, would you?”

Jon shrugged on the coat, grateful for the dark to hide his scowl and blush.

Sasha let out a noise of realization. “Oh! I have something too.” She disappeared and returned in less than a minute, holding out a knitted cap of some kind. “I keep a spare for when it’s too cold down here.” The inside was soft, lined with silk or satin or something, and Jon could feel some sort of applique on the side. Realizing there was no way he was going to win this fight, he tugged on the hat, frowning at the way it squished down the knot of hair he had so carefully arranged to be just the right amount of messy and structured.

Martin was stepping forward now as well, stooping slightly to wind a scarf around Jon’s neck and gently tucking the ends into the neck of the fleece. “Uh, here.”

“I-hm,” Jon struggled for words, feeling warm from more than just the new apparel. “Thank you, all of you, I suppose. I’ll-ah, I’ll give them back to you after.”

“No rush!” Tim nudged Jon with his shoulder as he grabbed Sasha’s hand, pulling her through the hallway to the stairwell. “Come on, I need the most expensive drink they sell in my belly, pronto!”

As the Archival staff left the Institute, they waved goodbye and wished a Happy Christmas to Rosie, who was packing up her own desk. They pushed themselves through the rotating door, immediately bowing their heads against the blinding white snow and the buffeting wind.

“Shit,” Martin said, pocketing his glasses. “No point in having these out. The one day I don’t bother with contacts. Are we sure we shouldn’t cab?” Jon glanced at the road, somewhere between slush and ice.

“I don’t trust lorry drivers on a good day.” Martin hummed an agreement.

Sasha led the way, the four keeping tight together against the wind and cold, the whirling of the snow drowning out all conversation, save for Tim’s occasional directions via his smartphone. Jon removed his own wire-rimmed glasses eventually, tired of them fogging up and of the snow melting into blurred spots, obscuring his vision even more. Martin held out his hand and Jon passed them over for Martin to put in his pocket. There was no one else out on the streets, no cars, no people. Jon imagined as they walked that they were the only four left in London, cursed to wander alone forever. His theory was proven wrong, however, when eventually the warm orange lighting of the coffee shop beckoned, the name Bean Village painted on the window.

“I think Sash’s name was better,” Tim declares in a low voice as they stamp their feet against the welcome mat and shake off snow from their hair and clothes. Jon removes the knitted cap to see the faux leather flower applique and the embroidered “S” he hadn’t been able to see in the dark, chuckling to himself and stuffing the mauve hat in his pocket. Their faces were all various toned shades of pink and the heavy heat of the air of the café, smelling strongly like coffee beans, vanilla, and cinnamon, made Jon’s once-numb nose and cheeks tingle as they were brought back to life.

Jon squinted at the chalk-written menu, moving to push up his glasses only to feel his hand falter when he found the nosepiece not there. “Oh-uh, Martin. Can I have my glasses?”

Martin frowned. “Ah, huh? Oh! Yes-yes, of course, sorry!” He fumbled for Jon’s glasses, drying the remaining melted snow on the hem of his shirt before handing them back.

The Magnus Institute’s archival staff were the only four customers in the store at present and made a point to order probably more than necessary, scones and muffins (blueberry for Martin and Sasha, cinnamon for Martin, a pumpkin muffin for Jon) in addition to the teas and coffees (chai lattes for Jon and Martin, a caramel latte for Sasha, and some sort of ridiculously sweet mocha for Tim), despite it being barely eleven in the morning. Jon saw Martin make a point to slip some extra money into the tip jar as well, feeling warmth bloom in his chest as he decided to do the same.

Honestly, this, squeezed into a booth, leaning into Martin’s side, with Tim and Sasha across from him, chatting, swapping stories, and sharing some institute-related memes Tim had drawn up on his phone, was the best Christmas gift Jon could have imagined.

[puckrph]

THE HORROR & THE WILD SENTENCE STARTERS

starters taken from the album “the horror & the wild” by joey batey’s band the amazing devil! feel free to change pronouns, etc! most of the songs are under the cut.

THE ROCKROSE AND THE THISTLE

‘ i know the kindest thing is to leave you alone. ’ ‘ just let me die. ’ ‘ i could try to calm you down, but i know you won’t. ’ ‘ i’ll darn you back together when you think that you’re bereft. ’ ‘ you’ll wail, you’ll scream, but i’ll never stop. ’ ‘ it’s all that i have left. ’ ‘ may i? ’ ‘ you’ve no clue how to sew. ’ ‘ i know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone. ’

THE HORROR AND THE WILD

‘ you were raised by wolves and voices. every night i hear them howling deep beneath your bed. ’ ‘ it all comes down to you.’ ‘ you’re the daughter of silent watching stones. ’ ‘ you watch the stars hurl all their fundaments in wonderment. ’ ‘ you are that space that’s in between every page, every chord, and every screen. ’ ‘ we’re drunk but drinking, sunk but sinking. ’ ‘ they thought us blind, we were just blinking. ’ ‘ all the stones and kings of old will hear us screaming at the cold. ’ ‘ remember me. ’ ‘ give me back my heart, you wingless thing. ’ ‘ think of all the horrors that i promised you i’d bring. ’ ‘ they’ll sing of every time you passed your fingers through my hair and called me child. ’ ‘ witness me: i am the wild. ’ ‘ i am time itself. i slow to let you play. ’ ‘ three things i pray: that i might understand as best i can how bold i was, could be, will be, still be--by god, still am. ’ ‘ fret not, dear heart; let not them  hear the mutterings of all your fears. ’ ‘ welcome to the storm; i am thunder. ’ ‘ welcome to my table; bring your hunger. ’

WILD BLUE YONDER

‘ without you, i’m stronger. ’ ‘ i’m no longer filled with wonder. ’ ‘ how wrong you were. ’ ‘ for you, my lungs were pulled asunder. ’ ‘ such endless blue. ’ ‘ for you, i would have gone so much blonder. ’ ‘ so one last time, love, come and rip my clothes off. ’ ‘ come and rip my clothes off. ’ ‘ get a grip, we’re grownups. ’ ‘ let’s wander till the fuckers demand an encore. ’ ‘ i wasn’t flirting. ’ ‘ this time we’re done for. ’ ‘ let’s hide under the covers. we don’t know what’s out there--could be wolves. ’ ‘ hold me, lover, like you used to. ’ ‘ every stone you threw, i stood on to better see the view. ’ ‘ i’ve got something in my eye. ’ ‘ i surrender what was, what could have been. ’ ‘ don’t you ever wonder what could have been? ’ ‘ come rest for the winter, wear my jumper all night long. ’ ‘ the candle we lit, well, we’ll use it to burn this whole place to the ground. ’ ‘ can’t you hear that scratching? ’ ‘ every brick you hurled, i’ll use to build this world. ’

WELLY BOOTS

‘ what do you mean you’ve lost your scarlet well boots, do y’know what they cost? ’ ‘ wear a raincoat or it’ll soak you to the bone. ’ ‘ it’s just like falling snow. i am above you, and i love you, don’t you know that i’ll be with you all along? ’ ‘ i love you, don’t you know? ’ ‘ when it’s cold, i’ll wrap my scarf around you. ’ ‘ when it’s hard, i’ll place your head into my hands. ’ ‘ i get to watch you grow up now and make me proud. ’ ‘ oh darling, lord, how you make me laugh. ’ ‘ get drunk for me, sing louder than you’ve sung for me. ’ ‘ grow young each time that thunder in your lungs begins to rumble at the world. ’ ‘ you were always strong. ’ ‘ when you were young, you’d kick things just to see if they would fall. ’ ‘ i’ll stick up for you. ’ ‘ i’m so proud of you. ’ ‘ you were supposed to be my light and keep me safe against them all. ’ ‘ how could you leave me here? ’ ‘ i know you’re strong enough to do this on your own. ’ ‘ years from now, at night, that storm will break. you’ll step outside to feel it shake, and barefoot walk across the lawn. ’ ‘ you’ll miss me. ’ ‘ i’ve been so scared. ’ ‘ you left me here behind, do you not care? ’ ‘ how the fuck am i supposed to carry on without you here? ’

FAREWELL WANDERLUST

‘ i need a drink. ’ ‘ and you are? ’ ‘ i’m the hardest goodbye that you’ll ever have to say. ’ ‘ you don’t know it yet, but i’m the cupid of things that you just didn’t get, that you struggled to say. ’ ‘ i’m the saint of the paint that was left in the pot. ’ ‘ every time that you fumble, i’m the laugh from the back. ’ ‘  i promise you i’ll be better. i promise you i’ll try. ’ ‘ but like rubbing wine stains into rugs, it’s my curse to try and make it right, but by trying make it worse. ’ ‘ you brought me to this party, but you left me here behind. ’ ‘ so long to the person you begged me to be: she’s down, she’s dead. instead what’s left but this old satin dress, and the mess that you left when you told me when i wasn’t right in the head? ’ ‘ you alright? ’ ‘ might you allow me to slip into something more comfortable? ’ ‘ we’re one and the same. ’ ‘ our gods have abandoned us. ’ ‘ take my hand, let us waltz. ’ ‘ you look healthy. ’ ‘ i promise you i’m not broken. ’ ‘ goodbye to all my darkness, there’s nothing here but light. ’ ‘ i’m just screaming in tune. ’ ‘ take a good long look at what you’ve done to me. ’

FAIR

‘ it’s what my heart just yearns to say in ways that can’t be said. ’ ‘ it’s what my rotting bones will sing when the rest of me is dead. ’ ‘ today i somehow understand the reason i was born. ’ ‘ i try so hard to make you laugh at me. ’ ‘ i adore you. ’ ‘ you watch me get dressed as though i’m hurtling through time. ’ ‘ oh, darling, please be mind. ’ ‘ i promise to fight them all when it all becomes to much. ’ ‘ you’ve got so much fucking hair. ’ ‘ i hold you close just to keep the world at bay. ’ ‘ it’s not fair how much i love you. it’s not fair, cause you make me laugh when i’m actually really fucking cross at you for something. ’ ‘ how unreasonably in love with everything you do. ’ ‘ i spend my days so close to you, cause if i’m standing here, maybe everyone will think i’m alright. ’ ‘ i’ve seen enough. i know exactly what i want, and it’s this life that we’ve created. ’ ‘ if you asked me to, i would lose it all, like petals in a storm. ’ ‘ darling, i was born to press my head between your shoulder blades at night when light is fading. ’ ‘ christ, you’ll be the death of me. ’ ‘ dear heart, it’s me. it’s me. you don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not, cause it’s not like i’ve never heard you fart and snore. and for some godforsaken reason, i’m still here, love, like i’ve always been before. ’ ‘ it’s not fair how much i love you. ’ ‘ you make me weep when i’m just trying to watch the office with my yogurt. ’ ‘ i’ll spend my days so close to you cause if i’m standing here, maybe everyone will think i’m cool. ’ ‘ where have you been? i’ve waited oh so long for you to come. ’ ‘ the stars above us hum and hear us. ’ ‘ that’s what she said. ’ ‘ you make me ache, you bastard. ’ ‘ and i’ll stand here. i’ll stand here with you. ’

THAT UNWANTED ANIMAL

‘ you light a candle, and i make sure the bairns are fed. ’ ‘ you make the bed up silent on the floor so no-one will hear us. ’ ‘ you try so loud to love me; i cannot seem to hear. ’ ‘ you touch, my skin peels off like paint. ’ ‘ there’s something at the door. ’ ‘ you grip me like an animal that you’re about to spear. ’ ‘ be good to me. ’ ‘ can’t you hear it? it can hear you. ’ ‘ fuck all your plans. i’m bored. ’ ‘ if we join our hands in prayer enough, to god i imagine it all starts to sound like applause. ’ ‘ you follow philosophies, but me, i laugh, i choke. ’ ‘ well hello, my hollow holofernes. ’

MARBLES

‘ yeah but back then you had hair and your smile was so sublime. ’ ‘ i chipped my teeth on every joke you cracked. ’ ‘ you couldn’t lie then, and you sure as hell can’t lie to me now. ’ ‘ you stole the best years of my life. ’ ‘ you’re the thigh-high hemline i just can’t stop staring at. ’ ‘ i will wait and hope. ’ ‘ your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep, but a place for crows to rest their feet. ’ ‘ i will rest my head at night, content knowing where my marbles went. ’ ‘ the flat we rented was a palace for a queen, if by “palace” you mean that asbestos, and beans from a tin, and the gin that we brewed in the bathtub... ’ ‘ do you think i’m sexy? ’ ‘ if one more guy calls me darling then i swear to you and god i will murder them all. ’ ‘ you’re not flawed, darling, you’re just a little under-rehearsed. ’ ‘ what’‘s the point anymore? ’ ‘ but i’m here, i’m all yours. ’ ‘ dear heart don’t cry. ’ ‘ i’ve loved you for a hundred years. ’ ‘ the minute i met you, the colours of my life began to pour. ’

BATTLE CRIES

‘ who’ll save you when you fall? ’ ‘ who died and made you king of it all? ’ ‘ who wins this war? ’ ‘ you lack the conviction to look at me straight and say yes. ’ ‘ some fictions, we took to mean fate. ’ ‘ don’t be uncouth, be a man. ’ ‘ you know i despise that look. ’ ‘ you’re home. ’ ‘ look at me as you say this, don’t look at your phone. ’ ‘ for god’s sake, i’m done with your dreams, they won’t last. ’ ‘ after summers of fasting, i feel hunger at last. ’ ‘ i feel hunger at last for the person 15-year-old me would be proud to have known. ’ ‘ the wine stains hide the tears. ’ ‘ i know i’ve been through the wars, but that creaking you hear in my bones is not pain, it’s applause. ’ ‘ come on, love, please don’t start. ’ ‘ sing your notes, play your part, then we’ll leave. ’ ‘ we were gods. ’ ‘ with you, i could summon the gods and the stars, watch them dance out the plays that we wrote from the heart. ’ ‘ we’d laugh at the ghosts of our fears. ’ ‘ we were kids. ’ ‘ “come at me, you blaggards,” you’d yell from the banks, wielding words against make-believe wizards and tanks. ’ ‘ god knows how you dragged us both into the darkness. ’ ‘ we sunk into water no creature can know. ’ ‘ leave without a fight. ’ ‘ i won’t let you turn our last night into this. ’ ‘ i’m going to binge watch a box set, drink wine, reminisce. ’ ‘ this isn’t a break up, dear heart: it’s a season finale. ’ ‘ why stay? ’ ‘ that breathing you hear, don’t mistake it for sighs. don’t you realize they’re just battle cries, dear? ’ ‘ all it took to unearth, in the dust and the dirt, some release or respite from the heat and the hurt, was taking the time now and then to ask how i am. ’ ‘ and now, at the end, i’m not going to scream, beat my chest at the wind. ’ ‘ i’m doing fine. ’

[felidaeix]

Greek Gods Au

——————————————————————————

You’d think being the goddess of the underworld would be living the life, but for Beverly Marsh, aka Hades, it was anything but. For starters, the poor girl was stuck underground for a good majority of the time. When she did come to the surface of the earth, it was only to collect the souls of the deceased every now and then when they couldn’t find their way to an entrance.

On this particular day, the goddess of the underworld planned to visit to steal some pomegranate seeds to plant a garden and make her dark city more colorful.

The girl ordered her servants to ready her carriage and watched as the skeletons rushed to do so. Knowing that her beloved Cerberus would listen to only her, she rose from her throne and made her way outside. Walking into the dark courtyard, Beverly was greeted by skeletons and spirits rushing about getting her carriage ready. She crossed to the black object and rested her hand against the side. She looked inside and admired the cherry red interior before turning away and raising her hand to her mouth, whistling.

In a matter of seconds, the ground was rumbling as Beverly’s pets came running. She grinned as three giant dogs ran up to her, butting their heads against her and happily barking.

“Yeah, yeah. I missed you too Cerberus.” She laughed as she pet the beasts. “Wanna go for a run boy?” When the dogs let out a loud excited howl, she giggled and patted each of their heads. “Alright, then fuse and let’s go, baby!”

With a bark, the three dogs pressed together and began melting into each other. To a normal person, this would be a disgusting sight. But being, the goddess of the underworld Beverly saw disgusting shit every day. She turned back to her carriage and waited for a servant to open the door. Once one did, she climbed inside and sat on the velvet seat.

“Thank you, Reginald.” She dipped her head and smiled when the spirit bowed and shut the door. She rested her elbow against the window sill, then jumped when a minute later the carriage lurched forward and began to move.

While the carriage traveled to the nearest exit from the underworld, the goddess busied herself with brushing dirt and dust off of her black and plum colored dress. Had to be presentable to the mortals after all.

Beverly knew she was close to the surface when she heard the growling of Cerberus and felt the carriage rumbling as the earth opened around them.

As the chariot emerged, light flooded into the interior. The goddess shaded her eyes with her arm and squinted, annoyed immediately. Her eyes needed time to adjust gradually, not be thrown immediately into sunlight.

With a groan, she lowered her arm and allowed her eyesight to adjust. She watched the countryside whizz by out of the carriage window. She knew the route they took would be marked with death until Demeter, or Mike, came and took the same path, healing the dead spots with his magic.

She began to lose herself in thought until she felt the carriage slow and eventually stop. She rose from her seat, opening the carriage door for herself and stepping down onto the rung, then onto the ground. The moment her feet touched the ground, the grass wilted and died. Bones from things that had died began to rise from the ground. A deer skeleton pulled itself from the dirt and reassembled, walking forward and bowing its head.

Beverly reached up and rested her hand on the creatures forehead between its antlers. She gave a soft smile and removed her hand before focusing back on the task at hand. As she left and walked towards Cerberus, the skeletal deer followed as well as a few skeletal rabbits and other various small creatures. She pet the three headed dog and kissed his nose.

“Stay, I’ll return in a minute and we can go back home.” The giant beast barked and laid down, wagging his tail. At that, she began walking towards a grove nearby where she spotted pomegranates hanging from the trees, as well as red apples. As the goddess neared the grove, she noticed the trees would wilt only for a second before returning lush and green only a mere moment later.

Beverly was amazed by this, usually only experiencing death. She traveled deeper into the grove, gray-green eyes wide with amazement as she touched plants and watched them spring to life. The girl stopped when she reached a clearing in the grove.

Light filtered down through the tree leaves, casting speckled shadows upon the ground and a figure that stood at the end of the clearing, underneath a large apple tree. Their back was turned to the goddess, and she sensed no danger from the being.

The girl was content observing the figure until she felt something raking up and down her back. She yelped loudly, lunging forward and whipping around. She was greeted by the skeleton deer from before, as it had decided to follow her. The ginger glared, prepared to send the creature back into the dirt until she felt something wrap around her wrist.

She quickly tugged, finding a leafy vine had sprouted from the dirt and bound her. She turned, a small ball of blue flame forming in her palm.

“You better let me go right-“ The words died in her throat when she was greeted by the sight of her captor. She was expecting either some stupidly brave mortal or an angry god/goddess, but she was greeted by probably the most scared looking human she had ever seen.

“You’re Hades...!” They cried, the vine vanishing almost immediately afterwards. Beverly extinguished her flame and rubbed her wrist.

“Yes? And what of it?” She glared.

The being came closer, cautiously. Their movements and habits at the moment were reminding Beverly of a frightened deer. It was kind of adorable, if she was being truthful.

“My friend.. Mother? Mom friend, told me of you.” They finally stopped at at least an arms length away and Bev nearly melted at how cute they were. They were short, chubby, and wearing a toga and a flower crown. She couldn’t help but feel completely safe around them immediately.

“Oh? I hope it was good things.” She gave a half smile and watched as the other shuffled their feet, almost bashfully.

“Well... They didn’t mention a few things but other than that, good things were said, yes.”

“Well I’m glad. What is your name?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My... Mortal name or my ... God name?” They asked, blinking and furrowing their eyebrows.

“God? You’re a god?” Zeus blessed her upon this day. She had never met a god she didn’t want to kill immediately upon them opening their mouth, much less them walking up to her. So meeting a god and immediately having her chest be filled with warmth and her stomach be filled with skeletal butterflies was something new and welcomed into her life.

“Yes. I’m Persephone.” He smiled proudly, and Beverly swore she could feel the air warm up and the sun brighten.

“Persephone... Perseph- Mike’s friend?!” Beverly blinked, her jaw dropping. She had never paid attention to when Mike / Demeter would run his mouth about how proud of his friend he was and how he “couldn’t wait for everyone to meet him!” And now she regretted it.

“You know his mortal name?” Persephone looked amazed.

“I know everyone’s mortal names, it’s a bonus of being close to Bill.” She laughed, but stopped when she felt the other gods eyes on her. “Are you staring because you didn’t know Zeus’s mortal name or...?”

Persephone shook his head and hid his burning red face. “Oh! Yeah, sorry... Mike doesn’t really call anyone by their mortal names.”

“He’s an old fashioned dork, that much can be said.” The pair shared a chuckle, and Persephone nodded in agreement.

“That’s true. I think he still herds his sheep himself.”

I’m just gonna do a quick time skip and come back my brain don’t wanna write this part anymore

As Beverly climbed into her carriage, she froze when she heard Persephone yell from behind her.

“Wait! Hades!” The goddess stepped down off the rung and turned, smiling softly to herself as she saw the god running towards her. When he reached her, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“And what might you need, Persephone?” She asked.

“I want to come with you.”

His response caught her so off guard that her arms dropped to her sides, as well as her jaw.

“You what?”

“I want to come with you, I want to see the underworld.” Persephone gave a shy smile. “I never get to explore and see everything very often, and it’s not every day you meet the goddess of the underworld. I just... I’m tired of being-“

“Okay.” Beverly didn’t need to hear anymore. Truthfully, she’d accept any excuse to spend more time with Persephone.

“Stuck with Mike all da- Wait what you’ll... You’ll let me come?” The god was dumbfounded.

“Yeah, sure. Why not? I’m nothing if not generous.” She laughed, kidding. “Besides, having your company for a bit longer might not be so bad.”

Persephone flushed red at this, giving a smile. “Thank you.”

Beverly beamed and held her hand out for the other to take so she could help him into the carriage.

“Beauty before the Beast.” She said, giving him a playful wink.

When he tripped, she began laughing, and laughing hard.

[sunflowerstrays]

strawberries ➩ s.c ➩ 2

seo changbin x reader.

words: 2k.

genre: soulmate au.

requested? yes.

warnings: none.

part 1

-

“So, where is he?” Lucas demands as you bring over two strawberry and a vanilla milkshake for your best friends. It was halfway into the usual lunch hour for the university students, however they had a market open in the college and as a result, the diner was much quieter.

Off course Lucas found out. It turns out that Yuqi hadn’t been asleep when you had walked in, just ‘resting her eyes’ as she called it. This meant she had heard every word of the conversation, and had not hesitated to repeat it to him.

He had walked in here today all guns ablazing, determined to meet the ‘so called soulmate’ and ‘establish some boundaries’. You were tempted to get Woojin in the kitchen to kick him out, but even though Woojin was tall and broad, Lucas was a tree in comparison. And he could probably keep Woojin at arm length just by holding his head.

“I don’t know,” you confess quietly, cleaning the counter as you wait for Minho to turn out another soup dish. Today was Chan’ day off, and instead you had the new starter Jeongin running around, clearing trying his very best to impress everyone. So far he had already had five compliments about his service, and he had only started three shifts ago.

But Chan being off meant that Hyunjin and his friends had little reason to come. Felix would always try and persuade them so he could have another stab at chatting you up, but other than that there would be no need for them to make the trek up the hill to your little diner.

That doesn’t stop the little hope that buds in your chest that he will come. If it really was true, and he was your soulmate - which you are starting to doubt with every second, to Lucas’ delight - surely he’d come back to try and see you again?

Just before you give up hope, the door swings open. Today it is just Jisung, Seungmin and Changbin, but it’s Changbin nonetheless. He looks around the diner frantically, searching for someone. When his eyes settle on you by the kitchen door, he grins brightly.

“That’s him,” Chaeyoung says quietly over her milkshake, making Lucas stare at him with a structinising glare. You smile at the three boys before running the food as fast as you can, eager to chat to Changbin again.

You easily ignore your new friends as you greet Changbin, Jisung and Seungmin with a bright, bubbly smile. Jisung leans over the counter and hugs you awkwardly as he does every single time he greets you, making you laugh. Changbin has a happy smile on his face that makes you all warm inside.

“What can I get you guys?” You ask as Lucas scoffs further down the counter. If you weren’t trying to look your best for Changbin currently you’d walk over and hit him for the sound. It makes Changbin and his friends give him an odd glare, but he looks down at his milkshake to avoid eye contact.

“I’d love one of your milkshakes,” Jisung announces loudly in the quiet diner. Even Jeongin giggles at this as he walks out of the kitchen door. “Chocolate.”

“Could I have another strawberry milkshake please?” Changbin pipes up, his voice breaking as he starts speaking. Whilst his two friends start howling at the embarrassing voice crack, you giggle gently, trying to put him at ease.

“Seungmin?” You ask, brushing past the situation despite feeling giddy with an excitement you hadn’t experienced before. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Chaeyoung beaming from ear to ear.

You trusted what she said. She knew what soulmates looked like, if what she said about her parents was true. Therefore Chaeyoung would know if Changbin was your soulmate, or you just found him particularly adorable.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” You ask, zoning back into reality and realising that he had already answered your question. He gives you an odd glance before repeating the order of another chocolate milkshake. You smile, tell them all that you’ll be back over in a moment before calling Jeongin over to show him how to work the machine again.

Focusing on Jeongin and teaching him helps you recentre your thoughts, and take a step back from the situation. You didn’t want to let these feelings consume you, despite loving the idea of being in love. So when you turn back around and hand over the two chocolate and strawberry milkshakes, you keep a calmer smile on your face. There is still a tingling sensation in your heart when he smiles at you that leaves you breathless.

Busying around the restaurant, you only stop by your best friends once to check up on them. Lucas looks torn between arguing with you and being happy for you, Yuqi is bouncing off of her seat with excitement and Chaeyoung has a knowing look in her eyes. You tell them when you finish your shift later, and they all make sure to be at your apartment later to ask you lots of questions.

You are dreading the thought of the interrogation that would be coming your way later. Mostly Lucas establishing his dominance and trying to act like the big brother as he usually did.  Yuqi would most likely be squealing about the whole situation. Chaeyoung would be the only normal one, with the only opinion you trusted, but you were still terrified to hear what she would say.

When Changbin, Jisung and Seungmin finish their milkshakes, they all give you a goodbye wave before disappearing. As you clear away their glasses and napkins you notice a scrawled handwriting across one of the napkins, artfully hidden so only you - or Jeongin, had he cleared the glasses - would notice.

You slide the napkin into your back pocket before swiftly tidying everything else away. Then you try to shoe your close friends out of the restaurant, telling them that you were bored of them bothering all the other customers. In actual fact you were just eager to get them out of the store so you could pull out the napkin and read what it said.

The day drags by once you kick Lucas out for being too loud and upsetting Jeongin. The younger boy, who was being used as bait, played along with you, and you were starting to grow to love him. You hoped that Chan loved him as much as you did, so he would stay on for as long as possible. But when you wish him a goodbye at close and drive home in your car, all you can think about is the napkin hidden in your pocket.

You pull up outside your apartment, and see that all the lights are still on. You know your friends would all be waiting up for you, questions at the ready. Instead you opt to sitting in your car.

You’ve never felt such anxiety as you do when you pull out the napkin. Your skin becomes clammy with sweat as you unfold the napkin, which was crumpled with an evening shift at work. The writing on the napkin is scribbled, and the thought of Changbin hurriedly writing this when Jisung and Seungmin were distracted makes you smile.

Hey. This is probably a weird way of doing things, but I just met you and all my new friends and don’t fancy losing everyone straight away. But I think you are really cool, so maybe drop me a message on @/spearb99 ? Have a lovely day if not :)

The message makes you burst with excitement. He was so cute - maybe one of the cutest people you’d ever met. You almost drop your phone with joy when you open Instagram to see if he is on there. When you type in his username, he comes up as a recommended profile due to Chan’s connection. You take one second to hit follow before curiously scrolling his page.

Most of his posts are videos of his music production, his rapping, or lyrics that he has written. There is the occassional selfie here and there, and a recently photo of Chan and Jisung working in what looks like a music studio. As you stalk through his Instagram, terrified to accidentally like any photos, he messages you with a simple Hey :) 

You reply back faster than you can type, sending a rather enthusiastic Hiya! back. You wonder if he is looking through your Instagram as intensely as you are his. Seeing as your Instagram was mostly fashion and photos with friends, and no where near as creative or exciting as his, you doubt that he was.

His reply is just as eager and fast though, and before you know it, the two of you are chatting easily about each other’s day. Changbin tells you all about his day working in the studio with Chan and Jisung, hence the photo on his page. Hearing, or rather reading, him talk about something he was so passionate about makes your heart swell with joy.

You had no clue that he had had this effect on you, but he was doing a very good job at making you feel giddy and in love.

Before you realise it it has turned to close to midnight, and you were still sat in your car, happily messaging Changbin. Glancing up at your apartment you see that the lights are all off now, and hopefully that means everyone has fallen asleep and you will be able to sneak in without being noticed.

As you shut off your phone and climb out your car though, Lucas runs out from the foyer of the apartment. He tackles you in a hug, lifting you off of the ground and carrying you inside the apartment against all of your fidgeting and fighting back.

“Lucas I swear if you don’t put me down I’m going to shave your eyebrows off in your sleep,” you snap at him, and that has him dropping you to your feet in a second. You huff at him, straighten your shirt, and walk along the corridor until you reach your door.

On the other side Yuqi and Chaeyoung are excitedly waiting for you, but when they see the death glare on your face their excitement quickly dies. “Lucas, what did you do?” Yuqi asks anxiously, running a hand through her hair.

“What I had to do-”

“Tried to kidnap me in the parking lot,” you huff out, feeling annoyed. “Which wasn’t necessary. I was coming home anyway.”

“You sat out there for two hours! What did you do, fall asleep?” Lucas asks, slumping into the chair beside a tired looking Yuqi. She snuggles up in his side, and the act makes your heart ache for some form of affection.

Then you remember that Changbin is waiting on a response from you, and you aim to make a dart out of the room. So you give a half-bothered response as you take off your shoes and attempt to retire to the bedroom.

“Can I just say something?” Chaeyoung asks, clearly feeling much more chill about the situation than Lucas and Yuqi. She is stretched out on the couch tonight, looking just as tired herself. You feel a pang of guilt for keeping them up so late, but this was the conversation you had been dreading all day.

“If you must?” You reply, feeling defeated and just wanting to turn your attention back to Changbin.

“I think he’s the one, Y/N. Keep an eye out for any surprises that you might see.”

-

part 3 // master list // request

[cataschism]

✦ @soulspun         ╱          wanted a fun starter.

Arcing after Hawks in the air, Deku leaves behind streaks of green like feathers, mid - air. That Float quirk is useful, he’ll have to find a way to thank Shimura for that through the Quirk            /            somehow… Four years with one Quirk, and he still doesn’t know all of its secrets. He has to remember that his Quirk knowledge is only that of a nine year old            /            so he’s going fast !

❛ Hawks ! Could you show me how to fly better, half the time            /            I get bugs in my mouth… ❜

Deku can’t fly straight, it’s hard to            /            instead he curves and serpentines, not unlike a punch about to be thrown            /            always at an angle, sloping. 

❛ Honestly, when Tokoyami was able to learn how to fly better, I tried to ask him but, he said it was all Dark Shadow            /            and Dark Shadow was too shy to teach…  ❜

[cataschism]

✦ @never-surrender.             /             suk-ja &. deku.

It’s a high - stakes enough mission that Deku was given special permission to participate in it alone, ear - piece firmly attached and hero costume as irrecognizable as possible. HE’S SPENT A LONG TIME DANCING WITH THE LEAGUE, &. hostages were never low enough for them to commit themselves against. 

❛ Halls are clear. Looking for the medical wing, now. ❜ SUK-JA LAOI. The league’s home nurse, &. their longest - surviving hostage. It’s taken so long for the heroes to even know she’s there, &. longer for them to decide who to send in for her rescue. Deku nearly jumped out of his skin trying to wait, imagining Kacchan in her place. MAKES HIS SKIN CRAWL.

Pushing open a door, &. looking inside - rows &. rows of run - down cots, curtains, first - aid kits on tables &. bloodied bandages thrown into a garbage can. Keeping low to the ground, he makes as little noise &. takes up as little space as possible. She can think he’s a villain &. she just might, appearing in all - black with a toothy mask meant to imitate, but not identify, his previous hero costumes. 

Like an emo kid’s bad cosplay. 

Standing up straight, Deku clears his throat. ❛ Is there a woman named Laoi here? ❜

[cataschism]

✦ @ichigokurosaki.             /             liked this starter call. ( accepting ! )

Deku’s Zanpakuto is hardly his own. When he tilts it to look at its edge, all he sees is two colors prisming out of the side, but he knows there’s more than that inside of the blade. A bit of green disappearing into a sea of orange, and he can’t help but feel like he’s failing to unlock it further. ( but a zanpakuto that gets inherited is unheard - of, &. he might explode if he unlocks it too quickly. can a kid already dead be RENDED - LIMB FROM LIMB? )

It fits him, though. He can’t say the same about Kurosaki’s ABSOLUTE UNIT of a Zanpakuto, &. he hears it clang against his back as Kurosaki approaches him.

❛ Ichigo ! I can’t thank you enough for showing me the ropes. It’s not that I don’t know how to wield a sword - it’s kinda straight forward.. but who’d pass up a chance to be taught by you? ❜

If Deku hadn’t died, he wonders if they’d get along in high - school. ❛ So… do you know my Zanpakuto’s deal ? Has anyone told you yet ? ❜

[cataschism]

✦ @grievedifferent

❛ Oh, chief Yagami said his kid would be wandering around this place. You’re one gangly high schooler, aren’t you? ❜  Michel is already clasping his scrubs on. Pristine &. white - why they make them that color when you work with blood &. guts             /             the remainings of people’s INSIDES  ! is beyond him. Michel thinks they should be black. Or red.

Oh but the feeling             /             the feeling !!            /             of latex ! It’s the best in the world. When he puts his gloves on to do autopsies, it’s the best, cleanly feeling ever. It’s why he can’t ever work at a different job.

Michel was brought on for forensic reporting because of someone named KIRA. An elusive mastermind who’s able to kill others without ever getting near the crime scene. Seems like fairy tale. All bodies tell a story.

It’s what Michel LIKES ABOUT ‘EM.

❛ You’re not freaked out by all this death &. dying stuff are you? Nah, kids like you like this sort of thing, right? ❜ Michel is an oddly - jointed PUPPET. He cracks his shoulders by picking them up &. rolling them backward, never a moment ON - BEAT with his heart - rate. Instead he moves jerkily, always alight. ❛ You seem like a pretty chill guy. What’s your name again, ah? I’m Michel, don’t call me Shelly. ❜

[cataschism]

✦ @lifesliced            /            wanted a fun starter. ( accepting ! )

❛ That’s a cool mask, ❜ Deku says. He’s just a hair shorter than this stranger, with this fox - like mask. The only reason why Deku’s ever known people to wear masks is because of distinct, recognizable scars they want to hide. That big scarred patch on his arm, where non - scarred skin no longer lives... he understands. ❛ Have you often been referred to as a FOX? ❜ 

But, he could be thinking too much into it, too…

❛ My name’s Deku! Can I have your name? ❜ 

[cataschism]

@sparedson            /            wanted a fun starter.

❛ Do you ever take that damn thing OFF? Have you never once considered to switch colors, or STYLES? Instead it’s become a part of your face - maybe it doesn’t come off at all. ❜ Aegon’s face crinkles when he THINKS &&. stares at the back of Aemond’s head.

He has entered Aemond’s chambers in the early morning            /            dodging early kingly duties to bother his little brother            /            as his right, his DUTY. ❛ Put patterns on it, at LEAST, Aemond. ❜

[cataschism]

✦ @grievedifferent.             /             josh, dream &. boy.

Beth’s eyes are a CAMERA as well as a GIRL’S. She supposes that makes sense, as much as dreams typically do. She knows it as well as her own blood coursing through her veins. She first just stands in this strange dream THAT WANTS TO BE SEEN. Her, camera &. girl. She promised herself after Josh’s death she’d take up his dream of wanting to be a producer, but she knows nothing of it.

It feels like a joke. &. TO SPIT ON A DEAD MAN’S DREAM, she can’t even say anything for herself.

There is someone here. That she is sure of. But in this twisting dream &. all of its shadows, its impossible to tell. &. This camera, she can’t make it function, no light does it bleed &. nothing does it portray. No muses, no gods.

❛ Don’t make me be alone. ❜ Beth says, to the darkness. Honest like she was the day she was born. ❛ Don’t you fucking do it to me. You know I can’t. ❜

[cataschism]

✦ @oneheir.

Rody is able to be cool &. composed about Deku, no - Midoriya             /             it’s a vacation, it should be his non - hero name right?             /             coming back to Otheon. He keeps his hands in his pockets &. his head firmly on lock upon his neck &. shoulders. He watches the security gate like a hawk. 

&. Pino is about to jump out of her skin: watching every direction, jumping &. fluttering &. chirping on his shoulder. Sure: Rody had a crush on Deku way back when, but you have a hero in a van you stole ( &. never paid back, now that he thinks about it… he hopes midoriya doesn’t ask… how is he supposed to get to klayd with his regular job now? ) &. go on a world - saving mission with and not get a little squishy about it?  Rody isn’t squishy, though. Pino is. Key difference.

[cataschism]

✦ @houkusu.             /             keigo &. enji. 

There’s no respect for the rankings, anymore. Entire decades of Enji’s life spent living in the cool shadows in the shape of All Might’s shoulders, &. the second there’s a SHINY NEW HERO, the rankings flock in his direction &. grovel at his feet. There’s no such thing as POWER anymore.

It makes Enji ill.            ( what is even the point of power if you’re unable to use it? what’s even the point of power if you cannot excise it? the will of power is to be used. ) 

❛ And where were you during Hosu? You saw that monster on the news. Not becoming of a THIRD - PLACE NATIONAL HERO. ❜ Enji remembers the tightness in his chest like a fist pounding against his stomach. The knowledge that they’d fought STAIN - HERO KILLER on their own, no older than sixteen. &. his son. His son could have dealt with it alone, had he just been a BLAZING BONFIRE. ❛ Those wings are more useless than I considered if you were unable to get here until this morning. ❜ ENDEAVOR &. hawks ( if you’re not first then you’re last, and if you’re third then you’re buried beneath the snow. don’t you know that? don’t you know that? ) The world upon the shoulders of a twenty - three year old. He can’t imagine a humiliation more pungent than that. Japan is ashamed. ❛ Do you have an explanation for yourself? ❜

[cataschism]

✦ @luxcruor.             /             vi &. jinx.

The beastly smell of smoke wafts into Vi’s nose and sticks to his skin, not unlike AN ANIMAL PINNED TO HIS SIDE. His own breath is hot &. unfamiliar, stinking up his gas mask. Zaun is a new city without Silco &. he inside of its belly, altered. The fallibility of the strong is to always OVER - ESTIMATE THE WEAK. Vi knows this strike force is over - kill.

&. like any superpower, he is unable to stop. Enthralled in the strength of Piltover, &. yearning for belonging, he is willing to sacrifice so much. This pit in his stomach clawing out like an animal out of a gilded - cage, wings a - flap &. voice cawing into the night, echoing through empty halls.

Separated from his strike force &. Caitlyn, wandering the streets of a discarded home. His own breath &. blood roaring in his ears, the gas mask making the word colorless &. dull. ❛ If you come out now, ❜ Vi says, making his voice LOUD &. INDOMITABLE. Though he knows this place is most likely empty. ❛ I won’t hurt you. ❜