hiræth

Send one of the following symbols and one of my OC’s names and I’ll doodle:

                                                 you care so much,

                                           you feel as though you will

                                                    bleed to death

                     ———–     forgive me, forgive me, forgive me 

                    not arms to carry you in your darkest moments,

                               lifting you up with assurances. 

                             nor laughter in the dead of night 

                       at jokes no one else would understand. 

                                                   love is dark. 

love is slamming doors and raised voices. 

                     love is bruises hidden under sleeves 

                           and praying no one would see. 

                      love is picking me apart, every flaw, 

                   displaying them like a sign before the world. 

♡ / accepting / @mixedfcclings

THAT WAS A QUESTION HE HAD ALWAYS DESPISED HEARING & PERHAPS IF HE WERE MORE CRUEL HE’D HAVE RIPPED HER TO SHREDS, or if she wasn’t a pro hero interrogating him after he’d managed to get himself caught. At the age of 25, he’d thought that finally he could turn his life around & destroy the father that had caused him so much pain, failing to do so & having spent several weeks in hospital due to injuries sustained at the hands of Endeavor during the fight.

❝What does anyone fight for?❞ He questioned, tilting his head to the side slightly in a manner that he had heard described as cute, albeit it was just his body language pertaining to curiosity, not done out of anything voluntary. 

❝Heroes fight for the freedom of the public & their safety, don’t they? That’s what I thought, at least, even though you all fail again & again & again.❞ His voice was quiet, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, a secret only for her ears & one she would bring to her grave if he had it his way. Scarred hands — once torn apart & then stitched back together over & over & over again — shook slightly, perhaps out of fear or simply due to damage, his fingers tapping on the table.

❝You fight for everyone but yourselves, but maybe that’s not how it should be, is it? Sacrificing your lives for the rest of the world, how noble of you all. It disgusts me, the way the world works.❞ Lips curved into a small grin, unhinged & unkind, one that could be described as almost sadistic if people didn’t know any better, which he doubted she did & he wasn’t sure she’d even read his file if she had to ask that.

If she was going to be honest, she felt like she understood- to an extent. Everyone came from somewhere; everybody had a reason behind why they did what they did. He was no different. Some unease settled in her chest seeing the grin on the other’s face, but she didn’t falter, instead sighing softly to herself.

“You’re... interesting,” Zinnia starts with a low hum, eyes cast down upon her own hands for a brief moment. She knew nothing she said would likely sway this man, and anything the hero had to say would likely fall on deaf ears or not be close to enough. 

“The hero world is... corrupt. It fails when people sometimes need us the most, it is filled with people fueled by their own greed.” Zinnia continued as the words finally came to her, regarding the other with a steadfast gaze as she looked up yet again. “I understand that. My parents taught me that very early on. I used to think the same way you did, too. But there’s good in it too- if we didn’t have any kind of heroes, even those who aren’t professionals... then the world would be even worse.