holy GRAIL.

✦   ─ ━ Ѕһɩɴоβɩ   Note taken, don’t sneak up on your master to avoid frightening them. A small hum was produced out of the shinobi’s lips there and a small smile graced him there as he gave a nod in return. ❝If it’s no problem with you, my lord then I’ll be glad to join you for lunch. I’m fine with anything so just surprise me. ❞

“ — don’t call me my lord, silly! just chinatsu is fine. ”

giggling softly, her gloved hand gently took his, tugging him along to the kitchen. to surprise him, of all things... ah! she knew exactly what to make! humming, she pulled out various ingredients and a frying pan, heating the stove and adding a splash of oil into it. a pot was procured, water and rice being added to it as she began to cook the rice on another burner.

“we operate on the same key a majority of the time.” it’s not an insult. there’s a slight preening note to his posture when he replies, proud of himself for being compared to the others of his class. (he is new and he is a falsehood of a person, a conglomeration of nothing and flame at the core, which is by no means a ‘person’ or ‘identity’. it’s nice to hear reminders that he does indeed class among other people who have realities and names they clutch with confidence.)

salieri watches them impassively, hands clasped behind his back. this isn’t someone he knows well, and he hasn’t decided if he wants to be any more than politely attentive or interested towards. he’ll figure it out.

the question earns a shake of salieri’s head. “my violin isn’t with me, and the piano i generate is meant for the battlefield alone. if you want me to play, procure an instrument.” it’s basic manners – the instruments made of his magic or blood are laden in wildfire, curses and injurious notes the only thing they can make. no need to, essentially, attack an ally.

“ mmn. i guess so. ”

achlys turns and waltzes gracefully towards the sword, placing a hand on it before turning to look at salieri with an almost unreadable gaze.

“ well? are you coming? ”

— a pause as the pseudo—servant pulled the sword from the ground, the object disappearing into a shimmering violet mist. bare feet began to tap the ground as they walked, achlys’ form going towards the end of the hallway. turning once more on their heel, the goddess lifted a finger, crooking it to entice salieri to follow.

“ — oh! ”

chinatsu was slightly startled, having not expected the assassin to appear out of nowhere. but the ninja was a ninja, and therefore she should really ought to have known better. ( really, her surprise at this rate is her own fault. ) with a soft giggle, she held out a gloved hand towards him, canting her head to one side.

— h    u    g.

“ hello, master—sama. ”

is she going to let go? no. get used to this, makoto. it seemed all the berserker wanted was some gentle affection, specifically hugs at the moment. pale, delicate hands gently gripped his clothing, the grip both tight enough to cling on, but loose enough to not strangle his clothing or him.

things to do:

1x reply to @originlist​ 2x starters, for @jaakunxkaze​ && @dekirukoto​

“ you avengers feel all the same, you know... ”

achlys remained propped up on a sword — they never used it in battle, but rather, liked taking it along for decoration. to sit upon it, balls of the feet resting somewhat comfortably on the hilt. or not comfortably at all. it was hard to tell with the pseudo—servant. pausing their train of thought for a mere moment, the assassin grinned with unrestrained glee, hopping off the sword hilt and landing almost soundlessly in front of the musician.

making a show of dusting themselves off, achlys didn’t speak up for a moment before glancing down at their nails, inspecting them quietly. lips parted, and the next words that came out were not something even achlys themselves were sure of.

( — but sometimes it’s too late to take your words back, no? )

Slow dancing in the kitchen.

feeling your loved one's form pressed against your own... the soft melody of a song that will always remind you of this moment... the tender forehead kisses... you are a hopeless romantic who yearns to meet that someone you will be able to spend the rest of your life with. you want a deep and settled love, something that makes you feel stable and comfortable. you want someone who will hold you at night, and kiss you every morning. you want someone who will always stand by you until the end. please try to remember that any failed romance was not a waste of time; it was an opportunity to grow and understand yourself. your perfect person will find you, and you are a complete person until then.

ᴛᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @maledicti-oculi​

        ——— “ BLASPHEMOUS SLATTERN! “

       any insult towards the head of the gods would not go unpunished , any person with such a mouth would not go unscathed . she cared not for her own condition ; it had been this way since the days of old , where she would be her father’s champion and prime defender , right or wrong . right or wrong , her father was the law , the keeper of order , the one who had entrusted her with the most precious gifts of Olympus ; she would not have his name dragged and sullied .

       blood was drawn , skin was cut ; Athena marched forward without fear , rage boiling within her as she grabbed a fistful of Arachne’s ebony locks ; long , straight , bountiful – she is a blessed one . fair may be her countenance , but so are the countenances of her father’s numerous lovers . she would not be swayed by a beautiful face ; any affront to her father is a crime .

       “ It is surely fate that you are cursed to crawl the ground ! Surely , this judgment of mine is right upon you ! Lower than the one who has pleaded to me ; you do not deserve your legs , you do not deserve your mouth ! “

— ah, there it is! the rage, the passion, boiling beneath the goddess’ skin. a laugh pealed from her lips again, the same as before, yet louder still. arachne’s hand clenched, arm dragging backward as a net of threads hit athena in the back, pulling taut against her clothes and skin. it bit into flesh, drawing blood but not cutting, just not yet.

“ aha, my hair? what are you, some cattish teenager learning how to fight? for a goddess of wisdom and war, you sure are stupid. ”

the mention of her crawling the ground, of athena’s prior judgement — it made arachne’s blood boil. spiders in the nearby vicinity that normally crowed around her in admiration and loyal love seemed to fear her, skittering away in terror from their mother and progenitor.

🐍—This one wasn’t her Kingu, alike in body but not in soul….not fully. She had seem him walking the halls, missed his affection and desire to accompany her. Though, in true it wasn’t her that Kingu cared for but the being that had used her body. But, still she missed the clay doll before her. ❝You are not him….Your eyes are different..❞ She sounded sad, when she spoke those words. Still, as he approached her so calmly. The Gorgon made no move to recoil, made no move to hinder his advances. 

Black and gold scales coiled and shifted as he grew near, though her golden hues remained on the hand that was offered to her. He still wished to be near, still wished to stay by this monster’s side? ❝You wish to be near me?❞ She questioned, her voice almost shook as if desiring it so deeply it hurt.  

the lump of clay that had become enkidu simply hummed, a tiny smile remaining on those lips. a pause, the lancer’s hand still remaining outstretched; for enkidu sensed her solitude, similar to gilgamesh’s all those years ago — something that could be remedied.

“ — why wouldn’t i? you don’t seem malicious, ”

the tone came across fresh, new even — though it didn’t belie the internal question of his eyes. but that did not matter, not when the lancer’s clay hand still remained outstretched towards the gorgon’s form.

“ hm, is something the matter? ”

        ———  “ IT CONFOUNDS ME AS TO why exactly do you delude yourself in thinking that I still have anything to do with you , mortal . “

       the blood boils within the weaver’s veins ; a fool would not be able to sense the murderous intent that a warrior would usually have in the carnage of war . a woman scorned , a woman betrayed is the most formidable force of all ; many a man had fallen to the rage of a woman , no war can ever match up to the force of woman when she is enraged , no man can match a woman affronted – other than another woman herself .

       “ Is it not YOU who wishes for one instead of I ? Do you thirst for my blood so much ? Pitiful . “

a laugh — it peals from her tiers, spilling in a discordant nature like blood onto a battlefield, sounding delightful in one tone then crazed the next. it is a mixture of bell—like and psychotic, a discordant mess of notes from such ruby red lips.

“ you think i wish for you to come and challenge me? you think i wished for you to come to me, all those years ago, and try to make me ‘see the wrongs of my ways’, to kneel before your father’s feet and suck his godly cock like an obedient harlot? ”

a smirk appeared after a moment, loose dress of spider silk falling to the wayside as she gripped the silk thread tighter, only for her hand to loosen. the silk thread stayed around her fingers, hand slowly rotating in the air. if one concentrated, they could see multiple threads being pulled closer.

DO NOT USE THE /ASK LINK FOR MY INBOX.

IT’LL BREAK IT. T_T