#deathfavor

[incertion]

@deathfavor said: KALLUTO HASN'T BEEN BACK HOME IN A LONG TIME. Doesn't find himself ever particularly wanting to either ; he's been letting his hair grow out instead of abiding to his mother's determined haircut for him. It's been four years with the troupe. Four years of learning who HE is, of shedding habits and finding himself. Which might explain why he is here. " Shizuku! " He calls out when he approaches, bag in hand. " Can you help me? I... " For the first time in a long time he falters, uncertain. He's never done this before, and it is a rather DRASTIC change ; both in appearance and one more act of rebellion. " ... I was. thinking about bleaching and dyeing my hair. I have the stuff. But I'd rather someone help with the back. And I do not trust Phinks. " The thought of that disaster is terrifying. " Would you mind helping? "

they've spent the last few days in a place by the sea. shizuku's never given the ocean much thought before, preferring to keep both feet on solid, non-shifting ground⸻ but it is pretty nice. there's a big event soon, where the rich clients of an up-and-coming business will gather for its grand opening. little do they know of spiders scuttling about.

still, there's a great deal of waiting. and you can only read the same ten books so many times before they get a little boring. kalluto's voice is a welcome surprise.

“ dyeing your hair? ” she repeats, tilting her head as she walks to him. shizuku bends down and picks up one of the bottles from the floorbound bag. pink. reminds her of machi, and that one time they highlighted shalnark's eyebrows while he slept. she holds it up next to kalluto's head, as if to visualise what it'd look like.

he's tall enough they can be eye level now, after four years of growth⸻ both height, and into himself. it's surprising to hear him ask for something so bold, but it's not unwelcome. every day, she's more and more glad they stole the little spider from its nest; watching it flourish has been the most satisfying payoff of all.

“ we've gotta wash it first, if that's what you wanna do. ” she takes his hand with her free one, mind already set. it's weird how nobody ever dyes their hair a different colour, in the troupe, except pink. maybe it should be part of the spider uniform? no, the boss would never agree to that. what about when he's sleeping? ... a new plan begins to form in her mind. “ if you're slow, i'll call feitan and make him do it. ”

[ofcrossroads]

@deathfavor replied to your post ““ I'd like to inform everyone I am not pregnant....”:

nightmare fuel right there

“ Chuuya owes me child support. ”

[ofdraiocht]

@deathfavor liked for a starter from Naoe.

"So why dogs? You know there are better animals to name yourselves after yes? Did you decide you wanted to be dogs and wear collars as a unit or did your leader choose that and you had no choice but to follow?"

[deiscension]

@diivineray // @deathfavor

     ⌜ 风. ⌟   ▌ ──  "LING WEN-ZHENJUN, don't look now, but there's an ugly overgrown rooster standing beside you."

[eraba-reta-unmei]

“ … Zarina you lucky son of a bitch. “

@deathfavor @zorkaya

[caelcstis]

" you act as if i haven't worn less clothes in front of you before. " he poked at lucifer. he could feel him peering beneath those feathers, hard while dantalion was busy shrugging off the light shirt he wore. it had barely done anything to hide his physique. the curves and dips of muscled arms, bare until the bandages wrapped around his elbow down to his fingers. or perhaps the dimples of his back, traps and slope of his spine . . . all the similar dips just above his hemline.

it was warm in the desert, a temperature he was not quite used to, no matter how long he'd spent here being tied to solomon. it was apparent in the small flush of his cheeks and the sweat that made him shed his upper layer of clothes. in the small bliss of shade couldn't help him in the blistering of summers. a small disadvantage to losing his status and becoming human-like.

he finally pivoted to one of his masters. his first, what should have been his only. yet, here he was, tending to another before the angel popped up. " what makes you visit? solomon isn't with me at the moment, he's tending to the others. "

@deathfavor wanted something spicy.

[moonsmourning]

@deathfavor: “ what are you doing out here by yourself? ” ( Hanma & Emma )

typically at this time, emma was in the comforts of her own home, tucked away in her bedroom listening to music, reading magazines, the usual routine for girls her age. but as the moon stood high above her head, the city life running rampant as it usually does, emma finds herself standing at the banks of a pond, one that was just near a main road. the sounds of cars, motorcycles, and the busying of bodies go to deaf ears as the blonde stares into the abyss just inches in front of her. at this time of night, you couldn't see your reflection in the water, it was only darkness, so she couldn't see herself crying, or see her mascara running.

when the voice comes it doesn't startle her, and she knows who it is immediately. there is always a soft hum in his voice, the boy always speaks in a sing-song. and even when he doesn't his voice isn't one you'd easily forget, because the boy behind the voice isn't one you'd easily forget. sniffling, emma finally raises her head and glances over and up, seeing the giant of a delinquent standing by her side, cigarette between his fingers. he always looks so relaxed and stress-free, it makes her quite jealous. for some reason she feels embarrassed, so she turns her head back ahead of her, opening her mouth only to close it again, readjusting her backpack over her shoulder, which looked filled to the brim and quite heavy. ❝ running away. ❞

as she speaks the words she realises how childish she sounds and sighs, lifting her foot to kick at a stone by her foot, watching as it skids and falls down the bank, into the water. ❝ you know how you're supposed to be the main character in your own story - ? god knows you are in yours, you're cool, ❞ he has a name for himself, he doesn't have to live in anyone else's shadow. but her? ❝ i'm not the main character in mine, or even a side character. i feel like a background character at best. it's not fair. ❞ the main character would always be mikey, side characters include draken, baji, mitsuya - the list goes on. in emma's own life, in her own story, she wasn't really important. for a while it didn't bother her, but then shinchiro died and mikey changed, and now emma has to do everything around the house, she even has to get her brother out of bed for him. even though it feels like she does everything, she doesn't get recognition, or even the right to be her own main character.

[furyinchains]

i see fire meme // accepting you must stay on the path . do not leave it . if you do , you may struggle to find it again . ( heh, maybe ghost/dream earl offering some well-intended advice :') ) ( @deathfavor )

dreams. they did not arrive all at once. they approached slowly, patiently, hands reaching from the depths of something unseen, enveloping the fragile remnants of her will and pulling her under. they were oftentimes relentless, cruel in their gentleness, beckoning her into the world where time frayed and untangled, where the past was not dead but lingering, waiting. waiting for her. earl was waiting for her there.

she had known ( long before she dared close her spheres and surrender to sleep ) that peace was something she would never be afforded. regret had made its home within her ribcage, burrowing deep, an infection that no remedy could cleanse. she carried it with her ⸻ in every breath, in every heartbeat, in the silence that stretched too long ⸻ in the moments where her mind wandered to places it should not go. she found herself in the ruins of a world that had long since crumbled, standing before a man who should not have been there.

earl.

the sight of him was a blade against the rawest parts of her soul, an ache so sharp it nearly brought her to her knees. he was just as she remembered: sharp-eyed and sardonic, standing with that exasperating ease that had always infuriated and captivated her in undoubtedly equal measure. but his words were as sharp as his presence, piercing into the filaments of her essence, a recall to what it was and never would be.

she felt the heat rise in her chest, a storm of emotion too tangled to unravel ⸻ anger, sorrow, longing. she could not separate them, could not tell where one ended and the other began. ❝ who are you to talk... ❞ she spat, her vocals sharper than she intended. ❝ if you are not even real? ❞ her hands curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms, desperate to ground herself. ❝ i don't need wise words... i need you by my side. i need you to guide legion. i told you, i can't do it on my own. ❞ the breath hitched in her throat, lineaments prone to alter ⸻ from pain, to remorse, to a tad of joy, to a portion of peace. all at once, or not at all. ❝ the path that i'm supposed to follow should be yours to follow too. you said that i must follow it... as if you did not abandon yours. if you are not there, i don't want to be there too. ❞