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OZ // soulrewound‌.

Gods, don’t call him that.

That isn’t his name. It hasn’t been for a long time. Stop it. Stop it.

They were moths drawn to each other’s flames, floating around their match in their own beautiful, deathly dance. Wouldn’t it be rich for the children to hear? After thousands upon thousands of years, Ozpin still cared about her. He had cursed that part of it, damned it into the abyss, but, hm, how could you ever dream to hate someone as much as you hate yourself, Atlas? Every burden, every sin falls on his shoulders. The weight of the world leave him on his knees. Surely… surely anyone would be a saint compared to him. Even Leo. Even the gods. Even Salem.

( such arrogance. )

It’s his very wrongs that force him to keep going, after all. Could he condemn the world with his thoughts while pushing through trial and tribulation to save it with his own hands, his own grip? Curses aren’t given to anyone that isn’t special, and ah, how special he had been, both to the higher ones above and his past beloved. He holds onto that, because it feels like the only part of himself that has managed to persist. Is it wrong for him to control his own actions, his own heart? ( and heaven forbid if he ever felt like something was out of his control, god damnit. )

“ What did I do to myself, you mean? “

She’s drawing into herself. What heartbroken, doe shaped eyes. Who knew that love could feel like such a pressing nothingness? ( it’s hardly love anymore, he shouldn’t lie to himself like that. hm, hm, hm. obsession? ) “ It’s simple, actually. “ The bitterness melds with a dulcet tone ( always, always, always he will try to present stuff as soothingly as possible ), hands slowly gripping into fists. “ I made a choice. Eternity ensued. “

“ Why are you here, Salem? “ ( ‘ haven’t you done enough? ‘ )

cowards.

they tend to reply with more questions, don’t they?

that answer kicks and flips at her sore heart, tugging at it with a vice-like gripe that might as well tear it to bits if she breathed a little more unevenly. the rest is just the rest. a numbness that she doesn’t mind fighting. once more they showcase her loved one just within her reach, only to pull him away, set on a pedestal so high she could never dream of climbing.

and yet, she dreamed. she dreamed of a day where they could reunite, despite of how impossible it may be. she still dreamed. what a fool’s tale, made of impossible wishes and never ending dances. salem snaps-- no, something inside her breaks. did she breath just a little too harshly? how surprising... she was certain there was nothing left to be broken by now.

her lips twitch into a short - lived smile, one so painfully forced that dies out the next second.

‘ . . . you chose this? ’ of all options, he had to pick eternity? an eternity that...made him not himself? albeit the broken expression, she chuckles. is this even ozma? why is she even questioning something that is as obvious as it can be? despite knowing her... this isn’t her ozma. this is someone else. ‘ why? why like this? ’

suddenly, it is warm. how long has it been since she last cried? ...clearly, long enough to forget what it feels like. the gods... when will their punishments come to a stop? with a sigh, her grip on the scepter loosens.

‘ i wish i had answers myself. ’ i wish i knew how to fix this. ‘ you seem like you could use some, hm? however, i feel like i’m just here to play the fool’s part once more. ’ pale blue eyes drops, that same smile threatening to make its presence. it is only when salem moves to offer the scepter is when she realizes how she is shaking. not that it matter in the greater scheme of things. this too, shall pass, whether she wants it or not.

‘ there’s no point in what we are doing. so please. . . take this. perhaps an answer might come to you, eventually. ’

#Ozpin 01.#soulrewound

OPHILIA //holypath‌.

“Oh, but of course! It is somewhat disorienting, to enter such a place… and what better time to ally together and seek strength in others.” No one could withstand a storm alone, with Ophilia knowing that better than anyone. Reaching out her hand to accept Salem’s, she smiles warmly, giving it a comforting squeeze. “My name is Ophilia, of the Church of the Sacred Flame. The pleasure is all mine, Miss Salem.”

Pausing politely for a moment, she thinks back to her question. “Do not worry for asking… it’s always a pleasure to share my faith with those who wish to hear. Even here, it’s reassuring to know others will still listen. You are a very kind woman.” Tucking a stray strand of hair behind one ear, holding onto her staff as ever, she nods, before continuing. “In the days of old, Aelfric brought the Sacred Flame from the heavens and bestowed it upon mankind. It shines its warmth upon us, bringing light to our realm… and protects us from the dark god, should he break free of his seal. Aelfric protect us…”

‘That should never be the case’, she wishes to say – oh, how she wishes she could. It is too late, after all – it has already happened. Why else would Ophilia be here, after all? She closes her eyes, clasping her hands together in a brief prayer. “May the Sacred Flame watch over us… and ever protect us from harm.” Smiling, she looks to Salem again. “That is a simple call to Aelfric. He does not ask for much more, for his protection… truly, he is a benevolent god.”

Laughing lightly, she puts one hand over her mouth. “My apologies… I cannot help but get carried away with myself.”

oh, the wonders that a sweet smile and honeyed words can do, coupled with the perfect pace and a face of an angel, no one should doubt of her true intentions. which, truth be told, even salem herself wasn’t completely sure of. curiosity could never kill this cat, anyway.

‘ oh most certainly, my dear. i’m glad we agree on that. ’ a soft chuckle before she would drift in silence, calmly listening to the other’s explanation.

such devotion, such... ingenuity. this would do nothing but led her down a path of suffering. nothing sacred or that came from divinity could ever grant you the true wishes of your heart without casting your humanity aside. they’re... cruel. they’re cruel.

‘ your god seems like a very caring one. ’ it is all she can manage for a second, using every ounce of will within her to remain serene on the outside. ‘ your unwavering devotion is most certainly admirable, to prevail even in this dire place. most people would simply abandon faith altogether. aelfric must be proud of you. ’

#holypath #Ophilia 01.#:)

??? //symboloffear‌.

Why does she talk like a video game NPC about to give me a quest…?

Shigaraki stops scratching his neck and switches gears, reaching up to his earlobe. His chipped nails pick at the skin there, at the barest hole where an earring might have been and the slit where it may have been pulled out the wrong way. It’s mostly healed, mostly but you can still see the smallest area of skin that opens just a little too much. Without thinking, he curls his lip a little.

“ People stick together because they’re afraid. It isn’t companionship, and it isn’t comfort… and if you ask me… “

“ The only real survival comes in that world of fear everyone is so afraid of. Everyone’s a pawn. People are a resource to hide from your own fear, and love is a distraction… You know, you talk real pretty, lady… “ Tomura huffs out the most quiet of chuckles, grinning mouth biting into her bottom lip and chewing gently again, threatening the edges of the scar on the corner.

She continues after laughing, “ You’re right! Totally useless! It’s almost sad… “ Shigaraki hadn’t considered herself human for awhile, and she’s starting to understand why. Whoever this woman is, she (to some degree) understands exactly the kind of way she thinks.

Tomura asks, “ Who are you? “ The glee in her eyes is almost that akin to a child trapped in an adult’s body.

it doesn’t take much to spot the childishness within her. the actions, the way she observed salem. was that a sparkle of excitement she had just seen?

‘ mhm, fear is mankind’s most raw and primal reaction. so they gather, fabricating this comfort & companionship. ’ it wouldn’t hurt to amuse him for a moment, would it? she’s always been fond of children, after all.

this one, however, seemed like a twisted one. an apple society would most certainly deem as rotten. however, society isn’t always right. society can be blind, more often then they would think. a rotten apple could just be someone who didn’t fit in. she would know, she’s seen society rise from the ashes.

this apple, salem thinks, is worth collecting.

‘ i’m salem. ’ without so much as a second thought, she extends a hand to him. ‘ and you are...? ’

#symboloffear #Shigaraki 01.

OZ //soulrewound‌.

Of course, he shouldn’t expect magic like before.

He does not have the role of the gallant knight that would go to the ends of the earth for his beloved’s happiness anymore, no. That was before, when impudence and the cursed ability to want had clouded his mind beyond whatever could have been considered good for him. He had dug his grave so long ago, and it seems that this time he has company to help him erect the tombstone.

( ‘ have we met before? ‘ )

“ … “

It is considered with clenched fists and stiff countenance. No, he wants to say, we haven’t. He had killed whatever made Ozma Ozma so, so long ago. He had found out over countless attempts and failures that what the world needed was not a hero, weak pillars of hope that they are. Ozpin had abandoned that softness of him so long ago, he had almost forgotten entirely. Perhaps he should thank Jinn here, for the reminder that he apparently so sorely needed in order to force him to face this head on, no matter how much he wanted to turn and run away. She doesn’t deserve him. She doesn’t deserve him. She doesn’t deserve him.

He had done so much to hurt her.

“ … Salem. “ There is no covering the way he says her name with the distaste and disconnect that he had managed before. She’s here, before him, eyes wide and gazing down at him and his loathsome curse. Ozpin almost wants to laugh at the irony of it all. Of course she wouldn’t recognize him. After all, he was hardly even a fraction of the man that she had met before in that tower, all of those millennia before. “ … Haha. “

“ You’ve taken care of my scepter well. “

What a sad, empty sound.

in the end, salem can still feel. it hurts.

it rips her apart as realization sinks in.

she knows him. ozma. except he...isn’t her ozma.

the emptiness in his voice. the lingering and raw pain dripping from his soul - salem can feel it resonating with her own. it’s a lonely, broken sound. the gods, what had they done to him? had him been cursed? was it... because of her?

the thought alone is enough to leave her paralyzed, breath caught in her throat as delicate hands clutched the scepter closer to her chest. such cruel fate shouldn’t be a surprise when it’s coming from the same gods who whipped out humanity for the sake of a lesson salem refused to learn. and yet, here is, utterly speechless.

her search within green eyes for proof isn’t long at all. though dulled for whatever reason, those are his eyes. that hopefulness... it just could never get lost, could it? it looks pretty dim, like a candle on its last legs; but still there, regardless.

‘ ozma... ’ there is no relief in her tone. who could ever dream of reuniting with their soulmate only to find themselves in this situation? she grounds herself, tightly clutching the scepter once it is mentioned. no. ‘ why ? ’ her voice cracks. there is no hiding her pain, not after so many years spent in solitude. ‘ what did they do to you? ’

#soulrewound #Ozpin 01.#bye. bye!

yourfuckingmuse

A-Z HEADCANONS FOR MY CHARACTERS

Alignment :: What would be their D&D alignment? How might it come into play? Beverage :: What do they most like to drink, and why? Co-Habitate :: Do they live with anyone? What’s “need to know” before moving in? Decor :: What kind of home do they keep? Are there any defining details? Escape :: What do they do to destress? How successful is it? Fluff :: What hits their soft spot? Does anything them into emotional goo? Grudge :: How bad does an insult go over? Do they hold a grudge long? Hobby :: What’s something they do for fun that might be surprising? Insomnia :: What’s their sleeping schedule like? Snorer? Sound sleeper? Jaded :: Do they buy into the “happily ever after” ideal? What’s their standard? Kin :: What’s their role among their relations? Do they consider others family? Law :: What do they think about abiding rules? Are they selective about it? Magic :: In a magic series or not, are they accepting, or is each instance a shock? Network :: Are they connected to the people? How much do they reach out to others? Offspring :: What kind of parent would they be? Would they prefer one, or multiple? Pistol :: Is this character skilled with a weapon? What’s their opinion of violence? Question :: How often do they feel doubt? What topics are they defensive about? Reminder :: How are they at remembering daily needs? What falls through the cracks? Sing :: Do they like music? Do they listen often/sing/hum/play songs in their head? Touch :: How do they handle contact? Is their personal bubble big? Upcoming :: How much do they think of the future? Do they make long-term plans? Vice :: What bad habits do they have? Is there something they would be ashamed of? Wardrobe :: What’s their fashion style? Do they have any staple pieces? X-Ray :: How’s their health? Any problem areas? Do they take care of themselves? Yack :: What’s their favorite thing to talk about? What do they go on about? Zodiac :: What’s their astro sign? Does it fit? What would you pick, if it’s unknown?

#♛. memes

??? //soulrewound‌.

Perhaps it isn’t him that makes the fairytales.

Perhaps he’s the unknowing protagonist, placed on the stage ever more because the story is not finished with him.

It’s strange to think about how much time had passed. How much the ticking clocks and sunrises and sunsets had pushed them apart, pulled them together, as if he was the coastline ready to welcome her waves as the moon dictated the tide. Maybe the gods had never left, just so they could watch the sea clash with the earth over and over again. He wouldn’t be surprised. It would explain why she’s as beautiful as the first time he’s met her.

Memory had served him well throughout his entire life, but it had only been recently where he had been reminded that his first go at living had faded. He had forgotten what he looked like– what she looked like. How her hair cascaded down her shoulders and the way that her lips would upturn into a shy smile as her hand fit perfectly in his own.

… No. Ozma’s own.

The gloves cannot hide everything, nor can the long sleeves and sly diversions away from the truth. He is drenched in blood to toe, while she stands pristine, quiet. Something like sin catches itself in his throat. He cannot breathe, cannot speak. But, ah, she had always been the type to make miracles come true, whether she did or didn’t mean to.

“ … –Salem? “

Yes, time changes everything.

It’s why his heart is seized so much quicker than it used to be, right?

( @grimmcursed. )

fate & souls. two different concepts bound by the same principle that nothing can be controlled. you make plans, and fate laughs. you get cursed, and live with it. or at the very least, you try to.

white extends on the horizon, for as far she can see. a beautiful sight that could leave anyone breathless. but not salem, however. many were the punishments that came with immortality, and nature losing its colorful charm was one of them. she had lived through many, countless, seasons. had seen everything nature has to offer. nothing was ever new. nothing was ever colorful.

salem had grown numb.

where time itself stole her ability to enjoy the little things life has to offer came wrath. something contained, something reserved for those who had wronged her. to think she would be judged by a god, to have or not wish granted. they’re so full of themselves, are they not?

it happens as she watching a lone snowflake descent when she hears her name. adjusting the green scarf around her shoulders, the cursed one goes completely still the moment she lays eyes on him. who... she doesn’t know this child. so why does it feel like she should know him? why does it feel like an insult for not outright recognizing that strange face?

‘ i. . . ’ that face. so unfamiliar, yet jarringly familiar. to whom, though? perhaps... it could’ve belonged someone who could have been if fate had not laughed at the crumbling future she had once dreamed about. salem frowns, suddenly very much desperate to unravel this mystery standing before her. with her chest tightening painfully so, she inquires. ‘ do i... have we met before? ’

#soulrewound #Ozpin 01.#well this is gonna Suck

??? //holypath‌.

She didn’t believe in Diaidem, but she respected her. The forces in this place, she found, must be the work of Aelfric – as the legend had gone as she grew up, as the legend resonated in her heart at that moment. Yet it seemed this place had no fondness of the Sacred Flame. She might have assumed they would hold onto it ever more tightly, in such a cold environment… but perhaps, over time, they had forgotten it. It seemed Diaidem had watched over these people in the Flame’s absence. For that… Ophilia was grateful.

Even so, she couldn’t help her concern. A place without the Flame would be vulnerable to Galdera – and though she wasn’t one to push her faith on anyone, she had already felt the wrath of the dark god. If she were to save her own world… how much could she do, if this world was already lost?

“It seems so peaceful, and yet…” She trails off. “I cannot help but worry. Without the guidance of the Flame, we’ll only stray into danger and darkness…” She pauses, flushing when she realises she was talking to herself… rather not to herself. “Ah… pardon me, miss. I don’t mean to disrespect Lady Diaidem… she seems to have done a wonderful service to this people.”

@grimmcursed

is faith a product imposed by the gods, or something that blooms naturally out of its own volition? the answer should be simple, however, faith itself isn’t simple. no, there shouldn’t be simplicity within its answer. just like humans, gods have different version to each who looks at them. to each their own perception. their own version. their own truth.

do not depend on them. do not demand from them. for you will see their true face & utter ignorance regarding their own creations.

this answer holds no simplicity, and for long she was the only human to walk the face of the world, therefore, that was the only truth for at least a couple of thousands of years.

‘ it’s quite alright, there’s nothing to apologize for. we all talk to ourselves once in a while, don’t we? ’ she offers a smile, putting a few seconds between her own curiosity and the imminent question she was fated to inquire later on. for now, she would like to dig deeper into her thoughts. she reeks of faith, & salem must know how deep that love for her creators goes.

‘ this flame you were speaking of... i assume it is important to you, is it not? ’ then, a semblance of feigned shyness. ‘ oh, where are my manners? my name is salem, a pleasure to meet you. ’ with an elegant gesture, she extends her hand. ‘ sorry if this seems a little intrusive, but would you mind sparing a few minutes of your time? if i may be completely honest, i’m... a little lonely. i could use a friend or two. ’

#holypath #Ophilia 01.#well this is something :)

??? //symboloffear‌.

@grimmcursed You look just as sad and pathetic as me.

It’s been a shitty day and a half. Nothing is familiar and no one is familiar and he thought he saw Dabi he thought he saw Dabi he thought he saw Dabi -

But he didn’t, and that’s fine. Who needs that bacon-bit looking bitch? Not Shigaraki. No, instead, he’s been wandering, walking, curled up on his bunk, hiding… hiding? From what? Even this S-Ranker isn’t sure. He’s got nothing to be scared of, but something doesn’t sit right with him. A nice, warm dream to take them to this cold wasteland? He hates fairytales…

Other people should, too.

While she walks, Tomura catches the gaze of other lost souls, some taking it well and others not, and some taking it really well, which only serves to make her a little angry. She scratches at her neck like she can smooth the dry skin, the scarred skin, erase and erase and erase… And then she catches someone’s eye, crossing the snow from the 10th bunkhouse.

Shigaraki doesn’t know why she stares at this woman for so long, but she gets a weird feeling from her. This lady’s skin is so perfect and smooth in comparison to Tomura’s, and her hair is long and blonde and beautiful and she looks unscathed by hardships… but Tomura is smarter than that.

He stares at her features, her sad eyes, and thinks that he sees someone as sad and pathetic as him. Maybe that’s why Shigaraki traipses over, hands pocketed in his long coat and shoulders hunched. Maybe he can get rid of the ill feeling he gets when someone looks at him wrong (or right) and maybe he can learn something from the other freaks that ended up here.

“ Don’t you think it’s weird? “ He asks bluntly when he’s several feet away, chewing the inside of his lip.

“ Everyone just inter-mingling and moving on like ants in a colony … don’t you think it’s weird everyone is so complacent about this? You look lost, so I thought, maybe, you’d get it … “

Scritch scritch scritch.

time. a concept salem had been chained to, and meticulously picked apart through the years. she watched mankind’s return, the beginning of civilizations and cultures. she had watched it all, regardless of self enjoyment and personal views. it was her punishment to bear.

ah, it seems that even here she seems caught up thinking about time. a place ruled by a kind & merciful goddess… to have a deity pass judgment if she deserved a wish - it really left a bitter taste in her mouth. gods, so foolish, all of them.

‘ that is simply how society works. don’t you think it’s curious? humans, they often seek the comfort of each other’s company. ’ she speaks, voice soft & serene. ‘ what they seek, however, is nothing but an illusion. sticking together might increase your chances at survival. ultimately? they come into this world the same way they depart: alone. ’

‘ so no, i don’t think it is weird. it makes perfect sense from a human’s perspective. but i do think that, in the end, it’s useless. just a brief comfort. ’ she smiles while adjusting the green scarf around her neck. this person, he didn’t fit in, did he? not with that mindset, he didn’t. ‘ hmm, aren’t you too young for such thoughts? ’ a bit too nihilistic for someone this youthful. ‘…every now and then, we are to meet with like minded people. do not worry, i understand. ’ where her words should be condescending there is a hint of sympathy, not to be mistaken for tenderness, but it’s still there. present.

#symboloffear #Shigaraki 01.