#murder mention cw

[starsdrew]

◟ ⋆ ❛ answered meme   ; @porchkissed sent ; [ ❛    it   feels   so   good   to   be   bad.    ❜. ] for declan & mason . ( no longer accepting )

◟ ⋆ ❛ oh  .  it  was  going  to  be  one  of  those  days  ?  declan  could  already  see  the  texts  he  was  going  to  be  getting  later  that  night  .  foot  tapped  impatiently  ,  unimpressed  look  thrown  in  mason's  direction  .  this  guy  just  always  knew  how  to  ruin  his  days  .  cigarette  was  tossed  to  the  ground  ,  his  boot  pressing  on  top  of  it  to  dim  the  light  .  why  was  this  guy  always  looking  for  a  fight  ?  it  wasn't  like  he'd  ever  successfully  beat  him  .  “  you  like  that  outfit  enough  to  get  buried  in  it  ,  mason  ?  ”  he  questioned  ,  head  canting  slightly  .  would  he  actually  kill  him  ?  some  days  ,  the  blonde  considered  it  .  “  playing  around  with  two  girls  at  once  ?  you're  really  not  that  smart  .  you  better  leave  her  alone  ,  or  i'll  see  to  it  that  you  won't  see  either  of  them  again  .  that's  not  just  a  threat  ,  either  ,  sweetheart  .  that's  a  promise  .  ”  he  didn't  care  about  the  other  blonde  he  chose  to  spend  his  time  with  .  his  only  concern  was  brooklyn  ,  and  he  didn't  mess  around  when  it  came  to  her  .

[deluxewhump]

Lawrenceville Baptist

III - Sam Morgan

Prev

CW: gun, drugs and alcohol, mentions of murder, some misogynistic language, codependent qualities in a sibling relationship

Paulo had slipped from one bad dream into another. This one was stranger to him than the first, though probably safer. He was being housed by a family called the Sullivans, who belonged to the church that had found him on the rural winter road where he’d been left unconscious.

Their names were Glen and Tabby, and he’d seen very little of them since coming to their farm. The house was a one story ranch that reminded him of another decade with its flowered curtains, glass shelves full of memorabilia, beige wall-to-wall carpet, and framed sepia pictures of dead grandparents. The house was four miles from the main road, on an unmarked lane narrow enough you had to pull onto the shoulder if another car came from the opposite direction.

From what he had seen on the drive from the Lawrenceville Baptist church, the road wound through empty woods and fields, dotted intermittently by other residences that belonged to other church members. They called themselves close knit, but the sense he got so far was of isolation, both from any urban area and from each other. As they’d driven him out, each house seemed to him an island, or an outpost, lonely and silent.

The older Sullivan boy, Jesse, left the house most mornings to go to various job sites, where he worked for a local contractor. The younger Sullivan, Peter, was a senior at Cheshire highschool. He woke up early to catch a ride with Jesse if he was headed that way, or even earlier to catch the school bus into town if not. “Town” was Cheshire, fifteen miles away. It was the nearest anything— grocery store, school, gas station. There was nothing out here but the little church, and the houses that dotted the woods and fields.

After the night he almost froze to death in the barn, the Sullivan boys let him sleep on the living room sofa. Mr Sullivan was often gone for a week or two at a time for work, and Paulo began to wonder if Mrs Sullivan didn’t have a covert drug or alcohol problem with how little she would come out of her bedroom during those periods.

One morning, he got bold enough to make a pot of coffee for himself. He was contemplating taking a page from Mrs Sullivans book and just turning on the TV when there was a knock at the door. He didn’t think he was in any position to answer it, but Tabby didn’t come out of her bedroom, no matter how loud and insistent the knocking got. He couldn't see a vehicle from the front window. Fear curled in his belly like a snake. Was it the police, come to hand him over to his rightful custodians? Why would they come back for him after leaving him for dead like that in the cold?

He opened the door just enough to peek through. It wasn’t a cop or a social worker on the other side, but Samson. His eyes seemed to shine like ice, squinting against the sun. He had on a beanie that pushed his golden brown hair down around his ears in their tight curls. “Hey,” he said, as friendly as if they had never met and he wanted to give a good first impression.

Paulo went to close the door but Sam had already stuck his foot in its path. “Woah,” he laughed. “I don’t know where you’re from but around here that’s considered rude. As. Fuck.”

“What do you want?” Paulo asked, annoyed that his heart was pounding this hard over a barely-out-of-highschool bully. He’d dealt with people that would eat this kid for lunch.

“I want to make up for the other day. I want to make it up to you.”

Paulo barely heard himself laugh. It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. The moment Sam moved his shoe he would slam the door shut, without hesitation or falling victim to curiosity on what he might say next.

“Your fly is unzipped,” he tried ridiculously, hoping in a moment of reflex the other boy might lift his shoe from where it was jamming the door open. Sam just kept smiling, all those blunt white teeth. “C’mon. I’m serious, I come in peace. I'll bring you back in an hour.”

“From where?”

“Just a cruise. No destination. I swear on my mother I’m not gonna hurt you. I thought maybe you had questions, and I could answer them.”

“About what?”

Sam shielded his eyes from the winter sun so he didn’t have to squint so hard. “This place. The church. The Sullivans. Me. Whatever.”

“Do I have a choice?”

Sam raised his eyebrows. Paulo guessed he wasn’t used to someone being so blunt about it. He supposed he shouldn’t behave like a pet, like prey. He was just used to it.

“I mean sure,” Sam shrugged, like his feelings were hurt. “Not very neighborly of me, what I did to you the other day. I hoped you’d give me a chance to set it right. I mean it was all in good fun, of course. You know that. Right?”

Paulo wouldn’t give an answer.

“I was a little messed up, I got carried away. In retrospect I see how not cool it was. That’s really clear to me now, trust me. I’ve got a handle on it though, I’m not doing that stuff anymore. I wasn’t going to hurt you. Not really.”

“Sure,” he shrugged, just to get him to stop.

“C’mon, a quick ride. I’ll show you Cheshire.”

Paulo took Peter’s coat off the rack and followed Sam reluctantly to an ancient Toyota pickup.

The ride into town was undeniably beautiful. It had snowed, and all the bare spots and hard packed ice were covered with a pillowy, glittering coat of white. The sky was a washed out, glasslike blue. They made their way east , the yellow divider line in the road almost completely invisible from salt and gravel. Sam’s heater melted the snow off his shoes and wetted a crushed pack of Camels on the floorboard.

“So?” Sam asked. “Whatcha got for me?”

“Huh?” he asked before remembering and hurrying to correct himself. “Oh. Questions?”

He tried to think. He didn’t want to ask anything too invasive, or seem rude or ungrateful. He was sure whatever he asked would get back to the Sullivan brothers.

“Ok, you’re shy. I get it. Me too. I’ll just start us off. I’m Samson Morgan. You know Jesse and Peter Sullivan. Peter used to be a Gatcomb, but they are, uh, no more, rest in peace.”

Sam was trying to bait his curiosity. Paulo watched sun warmed snow drop from telephone wires as they passed. “What’s that mean?” he asked mildly.

“Pete’s adopted. Family died in a house fire. Probably grandpa’s cigarette. I dunno. They were from Pittsburgh. The Sullivans wanted another kid I guess, couldn’t have one. The Pastor did a sermon about some adopted kid one day, real tear jerker, it gave Tabby the idea… and now there’s Pete.”

“How old was he?”

“I dunno, like twelve or thirteen? Most people want babies, she wanted an older kid, thought it would blend better with the family. He and Jesse are attached at the hip. It’s weird, everyone knows it’s weird, no one says shit though because A, it’s boring by now and B, Jesse will stroke out and beat the shit out of anyone who makes fun of Peter in any way. Especially about him and Peter. So word to the wise, don’t mention it. Peter knows how to hide it better in public now though.”

Who cares? He thought. Peter's whole family died. Why would they begrudge him having someone? The empty fields were becoming more populated with farms and houses. It seemed like each driveway had a pickup in it with a plow attached, like a sentinel. Barns like the one he’d spent a night in before the Sullivan boys took pity on him sat behind the houses. They either had a shiny new tin roof and fresh coat of paint or were dilapidated, half collapsed.

“There's Cheshire High,” Sam said, pointing up a steep hill topped with a long brick building. “Jesse and I graduated last year.”

“Jesse works for a contractor, right?”

Sam seemed pleased Paulo was engaging. “Dover County Builders.”

“What do you do?”

His face faltered for a millisecond, and then he affected an air of bored apathy. “Oh, I’m getting far away from this shithole.” He stopped his truck at a red light. “I got into Penn State no problem, but I decided to take a gap year. It’s more for my family than for me, really.”

“Do you work in Cheshire?” he asked innocently.

“You could say that,” Sam grinned, looking at him sidelong as if deciding something before reaching into the center console and pulling out a can of Skoal chewing tobacco. He handed it to Paulo, who turned it over awkwardly before popping it open and being hit with the overpowering smell of pot. He closed the lid. “Oh.”

“Just weed,” Sam said, as if he had asked if he sold heroin, too. “And I mean, some molly or mushrooms or whatever when I’ve got it.”

Paulo handed the can back.

“I don’t sell anything harder than that, though. Maybe Xanax, Adderall, whatever. Vyvanse. There was a guy I knew of around here you could get other shit from but he uhh, disappeared a year or so ago.”

“Disappeared?”

“Yeah, him and his car. Never found him. It was the same time, the same weekend actually, they found Jasmine Black in the cemetery. Did Peter tell you about her? Jesse still probably won’t talk about it.”

“No.”

“Jesse was dating this girl, Jasmine. Brunette, maybe five three, no tits whatsoever, but she was smoking hot anyway, you know how with some of them it just doesn't matter? So she turns up dead in the cemetery last fall around Halloween, stabbed like twenty some times, head caved in, really fucked up. The same weekend, Charlie, or Evan— he went by his middle name over Washington county for some reason— disappeared, and they never found him. There is still not even a shred of evidence he took off and went somewhere else, or that his car was stolen and he was shot or something… just nothing.”

“Is he a suspect?”

“Oh yeah. Big time. I mean, there was no other reason I ever heard of why he would need to skip town like that. And it's not like he was rich, it’d be a pain in the ass to get reestablished somewhere else without your reputation, your network, you know. So yeah, I mean maybe Charlie killed her and took off. They couldn’t connect them with her phone records but, duh, dude’s a drug dealer, he’s got a burner. Either way, Jasmine was an honor student, everybody loved her, church girl, all that. It was a whole thing around here. She didn’t go to our church, but one here in Cheshire. Presbyterian, I think.”

“That church is really a big thing for your families, isn't it?”

“Oh, could you tell?” Sam grinned over at him. If he hadn’t already made it so clear he was a psycho, Paulo would probably be drawn to his easy chattiness, his quick smile and golden Peter-Pan curls. “What about you? You’re probably Catholic, right?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Your name. What is that, Italian?”

“I was born in Oregon.”

“Oh. But really, are you bought in? They’re gonna try to get you saved and baptized, washed in the blood of the lamb, all that.”

“Isn’t that what you were trying to do the other day?”

“I was just kidding, I told you. I don’t give a shit about any of that stuff. I just go because it keeps the peace, and all the girls there are super repressed and horny. And look… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I dunked your head in horse water. That was not cool. But I was trying to get a rise out of Jesse, because he’s been so fucking lame ever since Jasmine was killed. And I wanted to see what Pete would do. He’s dying to be a good little Christian so that everyone will love him and accept him and forget he’s adopted. It’s sad.”

“He told me it wasn’t my fault,” Paulo said. They were driving past a cemetery with an iron gate and he wondered if this was the one they’d found that girl in last year. “Peter.”

“But yet he didn’t try to stop me,” Sam wrinkled his nose. “Have the courage of your convictions, you know? I can take just about any crazy thing from anyone, but I hate a hypocrite.”

Paulo didn’t buy this backpedaling reasoning for a second, of course. What Sam was saying was ostensibly true about Peter, and Jesse, but it wasn’t the reason Sam had done what he did. He did it because he saw an opportunity to, and he liked it. He enjoyed himself. Sam might be able to fool his church and the Sullivans and whoever else, but Paulo knew exactly how that looked and felt on someone.

“Are you ever afraid a deal will go wrong?” he asked. “Or that someone will try to claim your turf?”

He was giving Samson an opportunity to grandstand, and he took it without a second thought. “Who?” he said with a smile. “These incompetent hicks?” He pulled up his flannel outershirt to reveal a holstered handgun.

“SIG P365.” He patted it fondly and let his shirt fall back down. “Don’t worry,” he winked. “You’re in good hands.”

He thought Sam would ask him questions now about his time as a pet-slave, quid pro quo for all the information he’d just given him.

But he never did.

[topray]

once upon a time, in a land not-so-far-away, this story has been told before. once. twice. a thousand times, mouthed from strangers and soldiers and silver-spooned tongues. word passes fast. the skew of her history smears at every lens. innocence, justice, the truth— is all long gone. left in the dust, and buried beneath a form that echoes hers. [for a reward: mari dai's body, dead or alive, is wanted. for an injustice: mari dai's body, dead or alive, won't be found.] beneath the fall of a blade, opposite the gnash of a guillotine, cruel fates reach out their hands. cut. sever. slice, to little survival. a daughter, if only by sheer spite, is the singular exception ... at least, for now. survival, it seems, is just as lonely as childhood. somewhere in here, mari thinks, there's a synonym.

FORSETI [@linament] : "you are a formidable warrior — but even more than that, you have a good heart."

the antonym, to her surprise, comes in a different form. "never heard that before." mari spits the words out under her breath like shards. glass snagging at the edges of her teeth— all rough and ragged and ran down with the potential of disappointment. [for her heart: mari dai's disbelief, cradled close to her chest. don't take it personally, forseti ... this is how one survives.] her palms curve against the round of a flask, tipping it between her teeth as gaze sweeps up, then down. an assessment, slow, swarms around the breadth of his body. a tsk of her tongue, before she shakes her head. "if you th — think i have a good heart, you must've not heard the stories." a bitter curdle to her voice creases, and then smooths itself out. "ask anyone. they'll tell you otherwise."

[toprayarc]

there's an opportune time for everything, and death is no different. it's a chess move. a power-play. a switch of positions, a perfectly stuck slice in just the right place— it's a game, which is to say that dying is easy ... it's the killing that's hard. (the bang, the pow, the pull-pins, and perfect aim; the glint, the swing, the plunge and outpour of red. the effort. the aftermath. the restraint.) good thing mari's no stranger to it. not foreign to the concealed-carry of a carcass, never bashful about the brutality, or blood, or bash-in of a skull. she could do that part in her sleep. she's done it half-awake. she's practiced, and precise, and every crafted cultivation of years, employed. even now, months after an empire's fall, mari thinks gustavo fring would be proud.

"you gonna kill him?" — @grayboxed.

so, is it a revenge story? (simple answer: it's never a vengeance quest, but a vow. not avenging, but repentance. you reap what you sow, you get what you deserve, and mari dai doesn't stand for a mighty man that believes he's above consequence.) or simply an effect, for all that cause? "nobody said anything about killing." mari pours out the sentence like a simple exhale of smoke; glances to the pointed gaze of the other, and stares. "like i s — said, elliot," a cigarette plucks itself free from the other's pack, slid between her lips. her hand fishes into a pocket, pulling out a bright yellow lighter. words muffle. "i'm looking for information." fire ignites, and then settles into the tobacco. smoke frames her features, and the cigarette slots between fingers. "the rest— ... is y — yet to be determined."

[galaxofmuses]

Hookay!! It's time for me to talk about this Persona AU for Leon! So basically every Persona AU is basically like a timeline.

Also I will tags some warning because his tragic past is mostly going to be intact. Warning there will be dark content.

Persona 3: His family gets killed by a criminal and unable to fend himself because of his young age, but luckily he was alive thanks to a police cop. Grateful for the save, but yet lost so much as he jumps from foster to foster until the Kennedys took him in.

The Kennedy family decided it might be a chance of pace to move to Japan. The past seems like blur to him and trying to bury the trauma and so many years of therapy. Leon struggled for awhile and it doesn't help that he was seen as a tourist then a citizen of Port Island. Eventually Leon finds his footing despite his insecurity, yet his naivety and friendly nature always seems to charm people and quickly to strike up friendships. In the end, he is still a good kid and surprisingly fiercely loyal and protective when someone is in trouble.

As he grew up at the age of 18, he decided to go and attend college to become a police officer because he was aspired from the officer who saved his life and his sense of justice and duty always seems to shine through wherever he goes.

Confused from the people going missing through the island and he even tries to figure out what has been happening, but no avail. Leon does go to the park to meet up with Koromaru and noticing that sometimes there are kids that always seems to be there.

Persona 4: Graduated from college and got an opportunity as a rookie cop in Inaba, but he was more like an intern then arresting people. It was rather a small quiet town, not that he complains about it. He does his paperwork in time and connecting with the community and a regular at Junes. Even though his supervisor Ryotaro Dojima always challenge him and well to his surprise that Leon always manages to get things done. Unfortunately the peace doesn't last long because of the mysterious murders and missing people. Frustrated that he has been noticing this pattern through most of his life and, yet he has no idea why. Leon knew some of the kids in town, but he never really manage to pry anything.

Persona 5: An opportunity came for Leon to join the police force in Tokyo. He excitedly accept the offer and has been working there for 6 years with Mr.Nijima. The two seems to be unstoppable and of course there are occasional bar meetups and eventually he did meet his daughters even if it's just for a moment. Until one day, his partner and coworker gets killed by protecting him. With much regret and pain he had to break the news to his family and he never forget the harsh words from Sae.

As the years go by his heart hardened a bit and became a workaholic and going to the bar often. Until the incidents of people starts to get killed from by a mysterious death or a possible outbreak. Frustrated that these events always happen to him, he needed to find out why this is happening, but he was completely thrown off once the Phantom Thieves arrived.

Persona 5 Strikers: It's been 6 months after the incident. Things were back to normal and he has a much more close and stable relationship with the Nijimas. It was beginning to become rather droll until the mentioning of the Phantom Thieves struck again. Raising a brow as there is a mysterious app going around as well, this made him truly go investigate and excuses himself as he's going on a vacation.

[roseguided]

alys just poisoning grover tully? no, he prob did something to piss her off right before she was gonna feed him some concoction so she got on top of him and smothered him with a pillow

[stories-of-the-multiverse]

I think sun should be allowed to snap the neck of one shitty parent. As a treat.

"Oh if only!" they sighed dramatically.

Sun???

[twilightsage]

Royal Family Headcanon dump

The leading royal to be, Queen or King, is decided not by gender but by birth order. It is always the first born heir. If for some reason the first born is unable to produce a natural born heir, and is unwilling to adopt an heir from infancy, they are required to abdicate the throne for the next born child.

Royals can willfully abdicate if they feel they are unfit for duty or think their sibling is better suited. See Dante Abrahos Hyrule II, who abdicated his role due to the overwhelming responsibility of being king during conflict, to become Duke of Faron, and later fully becoming estranged. He has his own bloodline, but it isn't tracked by the Royal family due to the "embarrassment" of the would be king being considered a coward.

The only person in the last 5 generations to marry into the family for love was Dante Abrahos Hyrule I, who married and courted 'Eva' Zelda Hyrule IV with his whole heart, and he tragically passed after their second born was brought into the world.

A royal name is not necessarily a given name, it can be, but it is just a name from the history of the family (or family being married into the royal family) to be passed on. An incoming royal can choose to immortalize their own family into the Royal bloodline, or to honor their forbearers. Most choose whatever would get them into the good graces of their In-Law.

The secondborn child is a Duke or Marquess of Territories within Hyrule. Acting essentially as a governor or governess. If there are no secondborns, and the previous generation has passed, it's an appointed title.

The qualifier digit after the name is dictated by the royal name they wield not necessarily their given name. Andros Willius Hyrule II was already named after his grandfather-in-law, being Andros of Faron. But the 'Second' is dictated by the given name Willius. Oraiya Zelda Hyrule VII, is the 7th Zelda.

Royals in this timeline are also called by their royal name. Oraiya Zelda Hyrule is Princess Zelda. Dante Abrahos Hyrule was King Abrahos. Kazakk Daphnes Hyrule was King Daphnes. and so On

Miriam Zelda was the first Queen to die before her husband, dying during the birth of her firstborn.

Delilah of Snowpeak had an affair with a visiting Zora ambassador and fled, nearly causing a war between Hylians and Zora. Miphos and Daphnes dueled "for her hand" and Miphos was killed. The loveless marriage ended with the murder of her husband and then herself.

Daltus Regis Hyrule V was known as the Boy King. Being only 15 when he took the throne due to the tragedy that preceded him.

The royal blooded parent gets to decide the name of their child. This is a tradition broken by Kazakk Daphnes Hyrule IV, who chose instead to name his first child after Sheikah ancestors. Met with such backlash and outrage he "Allowed" his wife to name their son.

Kazakk of the Sheikah and Antoi of Akkala can choke tbh

[storybounded]

Cat after reading the starter:

[dropsofjupitcr]

@lcve0n asked: sender kills someone to protect receiver

 ˖ ✶  Isaac had told Collin he'd be fine walking home alone - they had been out for a few hours now and Isaac needed to study and couldn't stay at the bar any longer. And it wasn't that long of a walk and he would have absolutely been fine if he would at least pay attention to his surroundings. Because not too long after he left, someone had backed him into a corner two blocks down. "Better be careful, baby. I'm sure there are plenty of guys around here willing to take advantage of you. Luckily for me I get you first." The words were whispered in his ear, the others teeth latching onto Isaac's earlobe and giving a not so gentle tug.

"I-" Isaac tried to say something about Collin when the others lips covered his own, hands being gripped and held against the cement wall. "C-Collin..." His eyes widened, seeing the man with a lethal look on his face behind the guy pinning him to the wall. "Name's Adam, baby." The male smirked, "You'll do your best to remember that when you're screaming my name."

Another time of being cut off from speaking, though this time it was because Collin had stepped forward stabbing the man. Flecks of blood spraying across Isaac's face. "C-Collin stop!" That was clearly futile because Collin had just kept going until the man's lifeless body slumped forward onto him and Isaac pushed the body away quickly before immediately turning away and throwing up.

"Holy fuck. Holy shit." He felt cold. He had just watched his professor ... boyfriend... kill someone. "What the fuck..." His breathing picked up, taking a step back from Collin. "What the fuck did you do!?"

[trapton]

creating a dave miller 2.0 verse where afton never marries/has kids and was just likes killing people / building insane robots, lmfao - mostly for @gateway31 & i's ship-verse, but just for funsies so more people can ship w. afton before he becomes absolutely bonkers in the brain, & uhhhh -- also as per discussions w. nicole about willry development i am willing to discuss their divorce moving up from my main canon for certain ship-verses, to make shipping a bit more accessible.

[hasmephydoneanythingwrong]

“haha, they don’t know about my-“

“you piece of shit i’ll fucking kill you”

[topray]

the tragedy of mari dai can be summed up by the sheer fact that mari is someone who was not built to be the way she is. she kills, she's cruel, she's detached from people, but she still helps snails cross the street. she still breaks for birds. she still cannot turn a blind eye when a child is crying. these pieces and fragments of their compassion, that can be boundless at times, are remnants of the mari that used to exist. the mari that was continually crushed down to size and made to become someone else to survive, and then subsequently believed that in order to continue to survive, she could never be soft again. furthermore, the god delusion not being tied to the murder or the bloodshed but tied into the fact that mari needed (or felt she needed) to be resurrected and made anew to be able to survive her circumstances and her life is important. it's proof of the blood, the guts, the gore, et cetera, not being representative of the point of mari. it's about the all heart vs no heart, the compassion vs the cruelty, the contradictory pieces shining through that do not allow us to forget how mari has abandoned herself (or, rather, tried to) out of sheer necessity. it's about mari stepping into the world, stepping into this shadow of herself, and making the dark her home. it's about the cycles, the repetition, the longevity of the abuse becoming the only thing mari expects and understands out of the world, and how that morphs her into this opposite that she never can fully commit to. because, again: she still breaks for birds. she helps snails cross the street. she always, always, always, helps children. because baby mari would, and as much as mari tries to run from their former self— how can you abandon the version of yourself that was the most lonely? how can you leave the version of yourself that needs you the most?

[mysteryofthetoilet]

@shirobake

when people would observe hanako whilst interacting with others, one might think that he was a ghost, who saw lots of fun things and positives about being dead. he didn't have to take care of chores, classes and homework the same way other school children did, and the way he was always rather mischievous made him appear frivolous.

and there were absolutely things about school he could easily do without, but if it really came down to it, hanako would probably have picked a normal attendance any day. some days when observing the kids playing around in the courtyards and friends hanging out in clubs after school, he couldn't help but feel a bit envious. but in the end he accepted being an entity that didn't officially exist as part of the school roster, isolated, and bound to be feared and loathed. it was only right for someone like him.

"no rest for the wicked," he hummed to himself with a sigh, looking down at a class of students having a p.e class in the courtyard. despite the season it was a reasonably fine day. the sun falling down upon the rooftop was shining through his body, and the railing his arms were folded to rest on was slightly visible through his torso.

another heavy sigh emerged as he slumped down a bit over his arms. thinking himself alone on the rooftop space (why wouldn't he be? classes were in sessions at the academy) his musings continued.

"well, even if i tried to befriend any of them, it's not like they'd want to be friends with a murderer anyway."

[galaxofmuses]

// I do not want Hunter to meet Rosy.

God they can relate to each other well like man especially how Hunter reacts to any Sonic. It's like a mix of confusion to hate. Both of them are just going to be an absolute chaotic menaces to everyone and kill people.

[roseguided]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘. after the events of last night, with the mayors daughter & her boyfriend, she had come to view him in a different light than before. what has changed so much since their last time seeing one another or even before that, after the games when she got sent home & he got punished for what he did to save her ? no matter how hesitant she was, the songbird knew she would always have some place in her heart for him. because he saved her from the arena, from the bombs. coriolanus had broken so many rules for her, but lucy gray knew when not to keep wool over her eyes. knew when to say enough was enough & this might just be it ! ( why does some part of her yearn for coriolanus to choose good over evil ? maybe it’s because she wants to believe he’s capable of choosing something else over himself. )

@dictatorose said, " I WOULD DO IT ALL AGAIN IF I COULD HOLD YOU FOR A MINUTE. "

he speaks & it catches the young woman off guard, body turning to face him. shoulders are tense, but hands hold themselves relaxed at her side. lucy gray feels a rock in her stomach. he didn’t kill them for her, did he ? as much hell as the mayors daughter had put her through, lucy gray hadn’t wanted her dead. not really. ❛ what happened last night, you didn’t do such-a thing for me, did you ? ❜ asked steadily, void of accusations for fear of upsetting him. ❛ ‘cause . . what you did, coryo, it scared me. ❜ hand rests against her midsection, feeling the tightness there with the waver of her voice. ❛ i don’t wanna be scared of you. ❜ head gives a small shake, tears prickling her eyes & making them burn. a breeze rushes gently through the meadow, branches ruffle.