#dslucien

( dslucien )

arya’s long arms were thrown over her head as she yawned. she couldn’t say that excitement was what she was feeling. in fact, after years and years of plain boredom, it was difficult to entertain the de vil heir. a sardonic smile was to her lips when she thought of how she was better at this when she was younger. once, she was still filled with pure dreams and vibrant imagination. it was easier for her to be amused because she’d find the little details in her clothing or in her furniture that needed the touch of her hand. arya used to spend hours and hours, locked in her bedroom, thinking about what it would be like when she would be finally free. when her mother’s perfectly manicured hands couldn’t grab her anymore. and even though she was allowed to leave mother dear’s house later on, she wasn’t free. CDM was freedom, but not quite. it still trapped her. and on top of that, she needed to be side by side with heroes - those who were actually the villains in her story.

she found solace in her addiction. it was way too obvious. how could cruella de vil’s daughter not smoke? she’s been smoking by association since the day she was delivered to this world. so you could say that arya had little to none consideration to her lungs. and proving that, she went to those areas she was compelled to go to have a smoke and took a cigarette. the white little tube was hanging from her lips while she looked for her lighter. and then she finally lights it and inhales the smoke in an almost relieved manner. no - it was positively in a relieved manner. smoking felt so good after classes. arya threw her head up and rested her body against the nearest wall while letting the cigarette come and go from her lips like it was some sort of ritual.

ashes fall to the floor when her eyebrow is raised. arya meets the eyes of a boy and it makes her smirk. she scans him - all his body - like she’s stripping him with her gaze and her eyebrow just gets higher. smoke leaves her lips, toxic just like herself, before she gets to say in a loud tone so the boy can hear her.

(` fingers twitch, restlessly, at his sides as he navigates the crowd, barely noticing other students’ eyeing him warily-- some much more obvious than others, such as the ones that quite literally leap out of the way as soon as he approaches. normally, he would not mind all too much, but on a day where he was actually attempting to make an effort, he can’t help the hiss of annoyance that slips through his teeth. and his scowl only deepens, even though he doesn’t mean for it to. he’d long lost his sister somewhere within the first five minutes, and azrael had no choice but to wander his way around like a chicken with its head cut off. he pauses, zeroing in on a flyer in the hands of a student scurrying on by. and there’s a rare spark of interest, lighting up in his irises as he pushes way forward to the sight of a male handing out dance club flyers. a piercing purple gaze fixes on the boy, or more specifically, on the flyers stacked in his hand. there’s a miniature war raging in his head before he decides, marching forward unabashedly. and he nearly thrusts his hand out to just take one, but something, a little, smooth voice in his mind-- that sounds suspiciously like the doctor-- reprimands him that first impressions were important. so he slows, blinks at the sheets of paper, glances up at the taller upperclassman, and slowly extends a sleeve-covered hand. )

[#TEXT TO: luci *heart eyes emoji*] [@ leopold] [START]

[TEXT TO: luci *heart eyes emoji*]: i think you should shut up about that co-captain ass

[TEXT TO: luci *heart eyes emoji*]: nyways some of my exes are here 

[TEXT TO: luci *heart eyes emoji*]: giving me the stink eye better thn dad *SOS emoji*