KIWI. brand new starter call! length may vary!

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KIWI. brand new starter call! length may vary!
‘ what.. ? my hair was getting in my face. ‘ she is referring to, of course, the lovely pigtails one of her co-workers had swept her unruly locks into. ‘ does it.. look funny? ‘
Remember, darkness does not always equate to evil, just as light does not always bring good.
P.C. Cast, Betrayed (via books-n-quotes)
She wishes she could treat pain like a coin purse—something spare, sparse, to be exchanged for something else.
Emily Paige Wilson, from “Hypochondria, Least Powerful of the Greek Gods, pts ii & iv,” published in Cotton Xenomorph (via lifeinpoetry)
KIWI. brand new starter call! length may vary!
hvzama:
“You aren’t supposed to be here either. Believe me, we can handle any intruders just fine, your… ‘help’ isn’t necessary,” he tucks his hands into his pockets, fully anticipating a fight. “I’m going to ask you to leave one more time.”
a master assassin avoids collateral damage. were she to subdue him, he would simply become a witness to her affairs -- in the end, she has already spent far too long talking. ‘ straight to the point, then, ‘ hums lady luck, ‘ something tells me you’re not one for escorting a lady out. ‘
@fatalbloom said:
j f c
❛ i got you. it’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay. ❜
HURT MEME / accepting.
thunder echoes and her head aches; she can feel it, the back of her skull being torn apart, the blood sweeping down her shoulders (oh, how her body had crumpled -- like paper! like broken glass!). she buries her head in the crook of his neck with wet cheeks and teary eyes; breathing feels strenuous, moving even more so -- every clap sounds like a shot fired against her and she re-lives the moment over and over again, shaking. yet he smiles into her hair, singing sweet relief. ‘ i’m bleeding, ‘ she cries, ‘ i’m bleeding.. ‘ and his smile grows wider, like a crocodile -- jaw open wide to swallow her up. ‘ lily, please -- make it stop. ‘ and yet he cannot even if he wanted to.
fatalbloom:
fleeting touch flutters lashes, chin canting in question ( how fascinated she’s been with his mouth today, almost as if ———— ). indulgent, lips part against her fingers and teeth nip digits, evergreen eyes falling shut. ❛ to you, perhaps. i don’t mind, jeannie. i’m not interested in being seen as more than what i am. ❜ it’s hummed, toned with meaning yet undisclosed between them ; will he ever tell her or will he let her wither in the dark ? ❛ weird how ? sorry. i didn’t want you to feel bad. ❜
‘ you’re.. not? ‘ fleeting memories of midnight training flood her mind; she remembers the way her skin would break out in gooseflesh during the colder seasons, she remembers the way the blood felt under her fingernails. ‘ i’ve always wanted.. more than the guild. ‘ his teeth bring her back from the winter estate, leave scarlet scribbled across her cheeks -- she wanted to be softer, prettier, less volatile. the hero, not the villain. lips purse, eyes dragged from her previous fixation (him, always him). ‘ it’s okay, it’s just.. my -- chest feels tight. it’s probably nothing. ‘
just some notes (i’ll probably make them pretty later): jeanne started her training when she was only nine years old – as the daughter of the guildmaster, she was expected to become a master assassin (fluid in combat styles of all types, and well versed in the rules of engagement that protect assassins within the guild) so she began learning far earlier than most. by the time jeanne was twelve, she’d been credited with killing a high ranking government official under the guise of ‘ the girl in red ‘ – unfortunately, she became a person of interest around this time to those outside the guild. four years later, during a dispute between guilds, jeanne suffered a gunshot wound to the back of the head – the assassin responsible was never found and jeanne was comatose for six months, losing all vision in her right eye. even now she suffers from some mild side effects of a traumatic brain injury. she went through loads of physical therapy and still sees a therapist for the lingering effects (mostly cognitive issues – she also has problems retaining knowledge, engaging in social situations, and suffers from mood swings, hypersensitivity, and various other conditions that i will detail in a longer post exclusively about her brain injury). when jeanne turned twenty - one, her father (the guildmaster) was murdered. under suspicion by high ranking guild assassins, she was cast out alongside Lily (@fatalbloom). as a sort of coping mechanism, jeannie created her own guild: deadly chance – sharing equal power with Lily. Currently, she works part-time as a waitress, while also attempting to steal contracts from higher-ranking assassins – though her work often leaves her exhausted and frustrated (mostly because she has a hard time interacting with others).
KIWI. brand new starter call! length may vary!
KIWI. my super secret aesthetic is when the assassin falls for the person they're supposed to kill..
Julia Stone - Maybe
hurt meme.
“ i got you. it’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay.”
“i feel like everyone’s miles away from me.”
“my mind is a dark place. you don’t want to be there.”
“i know this hurts, but you have to stay awake.”
“don’t close your eyes, please don’t close your eyes!”
“i just want to be numb, i don’t want to feel anything.”
“please don’t do this, don’t act like you care.”
“you don’t care, nobody cares, just leave.”
“you’re my friend, of course i fucking care.”
“i can’t give up on you, so please don’t give up on yourself.”
“i love you so much, i forgot what hating myself felt like.”
“i fucked up, why do you not care?”
“i can’t walk, just go on without me.”
“you have broken ribs, take it easy.”
“i have no idea how to do cpr.”
“whose blood is that?”
“apply pressure to the wound, don’t let go.”
“don’t you dare fucking let go!”
“what the hell happened to you?”
“are they dead? did you kill them?”
“do you know what you’ve done?”
“you’re either with me or against me.”
“who the hell did this to you?”
“are you alright? you hit your head pretty hard…”
“i can’t see!! what’s happening to me?”
“when was the last time you ate?”
“what do you mean you’re fine? you are not fine!”
“i’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound, i’ll be okay.”
“for how long? how long were you bottling this up?“
“there’s so much blood, you won’t last.”
“are you… throwing up in there?”
“why aren’t you eating?”
“just breathe… you’re okay, i promise, just breathe.”
“i can’t breathe, i can’t –”
“i woke up, & you were gone.”
“just tell me something, was it really worth it?”
“it’s okay to hurt & breakdown. you don’t have to be strong all the time.”
bigzappr:
❛ WELL IN that case, i’ll take 2 triple cheeseburgers, 3 orders of fries, and the biggest soda you got !! i’m feelin’ generous, so maybe i’ll even give the pretty lady a nice big tip !! ❜
he’s quite loud; she finds herself inching away almost immediately, fingers hiding the embarrassment streaked across either cheek. ‘ i -- i’m very sorry, sir, but we don’t serve cheeseburgers here. even so -- could you really eat all of that? you would make yourself sick. ‘
mythology moodboards | psyche
greek goddess of the soul
fatalbloom:
❛ you weren’t broken, you silly bud. ❜
palm passes her cheek, weaving into hair as a temple lays on her crown. ( ‘ you were remade, ’ thought supplies, armed with an understanding beyond her own ; if she knew the bullet that shattered her world, the flower that killed her father, the rumor that seeded doubt within the guild came from him, what would she do ? ) fingers itch then, subconscious want to flutter over her eye rattling his bones. ❛ you accepted me first. not everyone lets a poisoner into their guild so willingly. ❜ not one that smiles like he does, smells delicate as summer flowers with eyes that swallow like swampland ———— so hungry, so greedy. lily resists, instead padding her forehead to test its temperature. ❛ how are you feeling ? ❜
she can’t explain the way she feels for him; love isn’t all bloodied teeth and flower stems, is it? -- shouldn’t it feel softer than this? ‘ lily, you’re more than that, ‘ she says, and fingers trace the bridge of his nose, settle at his bottom lip -- has she always wanted to kiss him? no, no; it is the poison that makes her cheeks light, the poison that wants to feel his teeth upon her skin -- it must be. as fingers find her forehead, she settles beneath his touch. ‘ i -- i feel weird. ‘