#caustixsoul

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

picture of me drinking from my cup with the teabag still inside

[wrxthfulguard]

(X) @caustixsoul​

“Sir?” Don had spotted the demon(?) just standing there in the streets, where a fellow demon could easily ambush him in his deep thinking state.

Upon the inquiry, he calmly raised his hands up in a passive manner when the other drew out his sword, not wanting to cause any trouble with him.

“It’s alright... I just wanted to see if you were okay... Are you a newly fallen sinner? Because you’re in Hell... Pentagram City, Hell to be exact.” For a moment, the ‘human’ demon was curious if the other was a demon that had retained their mortal ‘human’ appearance like him.

[bforefame]

caustixsoul

"Are you gonna tell me what happened? You don't have to talk if you don't want to of course."

“Those old people in Elysium are treating me like I’m some little kid that can’t fight or anything. I can wield a weapon just fine, thanks.”

[lavyrinthosdwelt]

@caustixsoul asked:  “ what are your thoughts on having kids ? “ From Theseus!

Meme /// Accepting

Asterius stilled. Went silent. More so than normal, even, as thoughts stirred up in his mind. Memories. Flashes of the past that he didn’t even wish he had. 

Of fear and hunger and pain. Yelling, between the man named Minos - never father, for no man could sire such a beast - and crying of the woman he knew as mother -  Pasiphaë, they all demanded he call her, even though he had no knowledge of words. Though he had been small, and could not properly understand them, he knew they feared him. Hated him. And he feared and hated them, in turn. And he was still so hungry. 

He grew older, but not much. More fear and hunger and pain. The servants would hardly look at him without flinching, drawing away, fearing the monster made by Pasiphaë’s madness. They wondered, casting wary glances at him as he hid in corners and behind draperies, if he would be so wild as the bull he came from. When he might become a danger to them all. Always when, never if. And he was still hungry.

Not much older, but much began to change, quickly. The hunger was overwhelming, such that the scraps provided would never satisfy. Another boy, passing by him - his own age, and yet so much smaller. Round-faced and bright-eyed and human and normal and all too quickly, between the bull’s teeth. Pliant flesh ripping easily, sinew and muscle shredding easily, giving way to the starvation that controlled his very thoughts, plaguing his weary, neglected body. It was invigorating. And he ate. And ate. And ate. Until he was only distantly aware of the screams around him, and the feeling of fists and feet and a knife in his back, because all he could focus on was the feeling of blood and meat settling morbidly comforting in his empty stomach. More fear. More pain.

And still h u n g r y. 

Asterius flinched back, arms up and hands back from Theseus as if he feared they might touch. The some old part of himself had come back to possess his fingers. His teeth. Like he might try to finish what he had started so many years ago in that awful, wretched labyrinth. Breaths came in quick, short pants, his mind swimming. Red. Too red. He shook his head, clearing the color from his vision until the color green started to come back into focus. 

“No,” he whispered, almost a growl. Regretful and angry and frightened. “I... could never have... children.”

They might... turn out like him.

[follys-dance]

@caustixsoul :

Continued from here x

The mother’s boisterous laughter always somehow got to Atë. Even if it wasn’t about her.

The Trojan War was Eris’s greatest achievement of all time. The mortals might’ve blamed Helen of Troy and Lady Aphrodite for that bloodshed, but it was obviously well known amongst the Discordii that it was their mother’s craft. It was sung about in their history books and their feasts, and if you ever asked a Discordian about their doted mother, such a tale would be the first thing you’d hear.

Eris was the highest goddess in their eyes. The Trojan War merely set an example of power— a standard by which all her children hoped to achieve. They were all racing against time, racing against eachother, to create tragedies even remotely close to that war. And the prize? A single, precious drop of love from their glorious mother.

Such was the dream for a Child of Eris. But not for Atë... What should’ve made her heart swell with pride and bow at Eris’s feet instead pained her. Would her fate as the goddess of folly be inevitable? Was she bound to achieve a horror like that of the dreaded war? There was the tragedy upon Olympus long ago, but...

She didn’t want to think about it.

Atë’s voice was gentle, but stoic. “I understand, Mother... But must you keep all the blame on Lady Aphrodite? In the end, you did influence her with the Apple.”

[hypnoes]

@caustixsoul​ replied:  see thats how they fucking getcha

like it wasn’t your fault to begin with!  you just had to tell me about another mean otherworldly twink laying about in your fandom when you knew I had a weakness for them 🥺👉👈

[galaxythixf]

@caustixsoul​ said: ⊙０⊙ For a Character I’ve considered/played in the past || Accepting

“I thank you for the compliments, my friend but I could never take credit for my Eurydice’s hard work. For as many songs as I have written she has inspired hundreds more or created them herself. I play what resonates with me and nothing I could write could fill me with the brilliance as she. I’m afraid my muse lies with fate and that my fingers may never feel the joy they once had in creating the memories I cherish now.”

[royalreef]

@caustixsoul​ inquired:  💫 + Damien, Dahlia and Brian! Three Choices - Accepting

💫 - fight, tickle, insult.

        “Tickle Dahlia. Though sparring with her is enjoyable when I can manage it, I do not truly consider that fighting, and certainly I could not insult her!

      Brian and Damien are... Trickier. I do not fight to begin with, and I would prefer to not truly insult another royal, even hellborn royal that he is, and I’ve seen enough brawls of his to know that his methods are ones I’d prefer to not be caught between. Brian is actually rather appealing for both, as I could insult him or tear into him with considerably less repercussions and he is rather good at taking both in stride. So the decision would come down to which I prefer to do less with Damien.....”

      Hand lifted to tap her chin in thought, pondering for a few seconds. Weighting it out. Decisions like this weren’t to be taken lightly, after all, even with no real consequences!

      “ ... Fight Damien, then. Insulting him would just lead to a fight anyhow, and it might not even be a dealbreaker for him. And Brian is just too easy to verbally tear apart!”