#impkinnie

[theycallmebrutus]

and my soul from that shadow that lies floating on the floor, shall be lifted- nevermore

edgar allen poe, the raven

[theycallmebrutus]

the memoirs  of a love-drunk serial killer

great.

just fucking great.

the rope cut into her wrists, blood pricking into the dry rope. her eyes stung with tears. she wasn’t crying. she’d never cry in front of all these...jokes of human beings. she looked down. no. she wasn’t crying. a sob escaped her lungs. it wasn’t it wasn’t a voluntary sound. but she knew where it came from. 

why am i being killed?

why not...him?

onlookers jeered as another sob escaped her throat. she desperately tried to force them back down but more kept coming until she was sobbing and crying, snot and tears running down her beautiful face. the executioner chuckled as he slipped the rope around her neck, “finally feeling regret for all the men you’ve killed?” he turned to address the crowd, “the bitch is finally sobbing for all the innocent lives she’s ended.” the crowd roared with laughter. lust’s hands curled into fists. her perfect, long, beautiful nails dug deep into her pale plams, more blood trickling down the wrists. her head snapped up to face them,

“you call them innocent? i call them bastards, the lot of them!” the pure rage in her voice shut the crowd up. a deathly silence swept over the crowd like a tidal wave. this small women had just hushed a crowd of hundreds. her hooded eyes flicked to a wealthy looking woman in the front row, “you know, darcy,” the woman paled. this criminal knew her name. the crowd didn’t stir, too afraid to move. you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. lust opened her mouth once more, “your husband is a lousy lover.” she laughed, tears still streaming down her face as the woman fainted. the crowed exploded in rage again. lust simply laughed, “you’ll never catch jack! never! i hope you sleep well at night knowing you killed a desperate young prostitute. i may burn in hell but you’re all coming down with me! you hear me? BURN-” she was cut off as the trapdoor opened beneath her. her lifeless body swung from side to side. 

her unhinged laughter still echoed through the dark alleyways of london where she used to stalk, until it faded away.

[theycallmebrutus]

SDS headcanon #1:

wrath and greed have a handshake that consists of them trying to tackle each other to the ground first. considering wrath’s strength and greed’s powers, this handshake endangers almost everyone within a mile radius.

mini headcanon:

whenever wrath and greed see each other, envy takes cover.

[theycallmebrutus]

-name: sloth

 -nationality: spanish

 -born: september 1st 1830

 -gender: male

 -powers: telekinesis

 -personality: sloth is, in a word, lazy. he can’t even be bothered to walk so he constantly floats around everywhere and uses his unstoppable power to lift coke cans into his hand. he doesn’t much care what people think of him or what people think or do at all. he always takes the easy way out but gets let off since he, at least acts, like a child.

 -background: spain was still reeling from the war. poverty was rampant and sloth’s family was no excuse. in 1840, his parents were accidentally killed in a riot and sloth was left alone with his baby sister. with his last dying breath, his father told him to take care of his baby sister. and he did, for a while. but soon stealing food for two and dealing with his sisters constant crying was too much effort for sloth. he threw his baby sister into the sea and watched her drown with a blank expression. eventually karma caught up with him and a few months later, sloth fell into the sea himself and drowned, no-one bothering to help him.

 -relationships: lust is a mother figure to sloth and greed more of a big sister figure. he’s friends with gluttony and hangs out with him quite a bit. he’s slightly scared of wrath but the sin of rage actually goes easy on him. he doesn’t like envy and pride and thinks they’re brats.

[theycallmebrutus]

ode to the lazy

some wander what goes through your mind when you’re dying. sloth was about to find out. his big blue eyes scanned the endless abyss that was the water. he looked down. he couldn’t see what was beneath him. his legs kicked in a useless attempt to reach the surface. fear gripped his heart as he felt his breath start to run out. the icy water bit his lips, trying to pry them open. he looked down once again the murky water too dark to even see the sea floor. he thought he saw huge shapes moving around in the blackness below but then again that might just be the oxygen deprivation getting to his brain. these were his final moments, he knew it. usually this was the time where people thought about their regrets, all the sins they had committed in their lives. instead of that feeling of guilt however, sloth felt...nothing. he felt no regret. he stopped flailing around, his limbs finally going limp. he squeezed his eyes shut.

he opened his mouth, letting the cold salty water fill his small lungs. his eyes snapped open at the shock of the sudden cold. overwhelming cold that swallowed him whole as soon as he opened his mouth. tears mixed with the water around him. his tears were much like himself. just a drop in the ocean. black pricked the outside of his vision as he sobbed, letting more water in.

no.

he took it all back.

i don’t wanna die. i don’t-

he went limp.

[theycallmebrutus]

a rosemary nods upon the grave, a lily lolls upon the wave, wrapping the fog about its breast, the ruin moulders into rest.

edgar allen poe, the sleeper

[theycallmebrutus]

-name: pride

 -nationality: american

 -born: august 6th 1940

 -gender: female

 -powers: extendable claws that can tear through bone

 -personality: oh god that ego. pride could be in the presence of god himself and she’d still think she was the bigger person in the room. to say she has a superiority complex is an understatement. if she isn’t looking in a mirror, she’s eyeing up others with that judgemental stare. she’s very level headed and is almost impossible to piss off unlike a lot of the others. she is content in the fact she is simply better than everyone else.

 -background: 1950’s america. what a time. pride was the daughter of a wealthy business man and life was going great, they had recovered from the wall street crash by now. however, pride did something she shouldn’t. she murdered a man. why she did is unclear but when it came to the trial, she wouldn’t admit it. she claimed all the witnesses were liars and made a right spectacle of herself. she would never admit what she did was wrong. so, in a fit of rage, she decided to take justice into her own hands and murdered his children. she was killed by lethal injection, the youngest person on death row.

 -relationships: pride isn’t fond of others, they’re all beneath her of course but the other sins are a close second. she is good friends with lust and best friends with envy. she tolerates greed and her antics. she isn’t fond of sloth nor gluttony, mot liking their lack of manners and laziness. despite her hatred of those above her, she has mutual respect for wrath, a very rare thing.

[theycallmebrutus]

the mental features discoursed of as the analytical, are, in themselves, but little susceptible of analysis

edgar allen poe, the murders in the rue morgue