#thrcnody

MIN-KYU ( @thrcnody ) said, ❛ what the hell is this? ❜

ᯓ☆ subtlety  is  oft  considered  to  be  a  witch’s  best  friend.  spells  are  quiet  things  when  done  right;  a  fireball  or  dark-tinged  blade  of  thorns  shooting  towards  a  target  is  nothing  more  than  an  amateur’s  mark.  the  real  professionals  —  those  who  tred  on  a  moonlit  path,  guided  by  torchlight,  their  shadow  folded  over  itself  thrice  —  are  QUIET.  their  curses  gnaw  away  at  someone’s  heart  like  a  festering  maggot  would  a  slab  of  uncut  meat.  their  spells  weave  ideas  and  sentiments  into  the  mind  that  seem  so  genuine,  so  well-rooted  in  the  victim’s  self,  that  to  think  of  them  as  anything  OTHER  than  natural  is  tantamount  to  ego-death.  their  skill  is  placing  death  upon  their  foes  with  all  the  quiet  grace  of  someone  putting  a  house  to  BED.

Their heart spiked once and all thoughts were banished from Hayden’s mind. Everything stopped. Their breath, which had been rapid, uncontrollable in their panic, returning to their lungs; their pain, blood rushing in their ears and drowning out everything Minkyu had said to them before – gone for that one, merciful second. Calm and clarity had returned, having been robbed from them with each slam of their heart against their ribs. Safety and security greeted them in those eyes, sharp features so familiar to them. He was stability in the face of their crumbling psyche. But then the tendrils of fear slid up their veins, inky and frigid, as though with this grip to their jaw Min was holding their head above water.

“Min --” they tried, reaching up to clutch his sleeve. Reality was slipping again. Everything was warped and unsteady except him, Minkyu, as the effect ravaged Hayden’s body and mind. The responsible tensai now lay in a bloodied heap behind them; breathing, barely, as the sickening chunk of flesh they’d acquired fell from Hayden’s hand.

Ten minutes, they reminded themselves. Ten minutes until this stolen ability was gone.

Hayden’s mouth was dry as they continued, frantic. “What did I do?” they managed this time, their other hand bunching in the front of his shirt, as though trying to hold themselves here, with him. “What did he do to me? Min, I can’t breathe -- ”

Selfish. Who were they, to be scared when they could see the remnants of the fight over Min’s skin, stained red and blackening bruises… or at least they had, before that too began to blur. Another stab of panic wasn’t enough to cut through this sudden heaviness, not enough to stop the way their vision began to go out of focus, or the way their limbs turned heavy – the ground calling to them as they began to fall.

ᯓ☆ sometimes  an  attack  is  a  simple  thing.  a  simple,  precise,  far-from-planned  THING,  really.  in  some  cases,  an  attack  from  lavender  is  a  rush  of  flames  and  frenzy.  in  others,  it’s  a  punch  to  the  jaw  and  an  ensuing  steel-toe  boot  crushing  someone’s  desirables.  right  now,  though,  the  QUOTE-UNQUOTE  ‘attack’  is  nothing  more  than  a  wadded  up  napkin  getting  tossed  at  the  other  side  of  the  booth  while  it  waits  in  ABSOLUTE  BOREDOM.  

❝  tell  a  guy  you’ll  teach  ‘em  witchcraft  at  lunch,  and…  he’s  late.  ❞  he  isn’t.  or  maybe  he  is.  it  wouldn’t  know:  it’s  phone  is  defunct,  and  it  has  never  CARED  for  watches.  

@thrcnody / starter call.

this got a little buried in my inbox but 🥺🥺🥺 ur so sweet tysm i love seeing u on my dash too!!! i'm so glad ur back!!!

ㅤㅤ. ݁₊ ⊹ .𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 ݁ ㅤ 「ㅤ@thrcnodyㅤ」ㅤㅤpresented a perspective: ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ⤷ㅤ" you don't scare me. "

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆.ㅤArriving before reason has the opportunity to intervene,ㅤsettling beneath skin and the marrow of the bones,ㅤnesting itself comfortably within the spaces where something certain ought to reside.ㅤPeople learn to disguise it behind caution,ㅤbeing polite and careful distances they place between themselves and whatever threatens to move comfortable spots into the unknown.ㅤTo watch it bloom,ㅤrecognize its shapeㅤㅤ...ㅤㅤthe words reach her now with the simplest of terms.ㅤYou don't scare me.ㅤOh.ㅤBut he should,ㅤhe should.ㅤThough the woman won't speak of it.

And it's the silence the only thing that stretches between them,ㅤneither hostile nor awkard.ㅤIt's present.ㅤAmaranthine lingers upon them,ㅤhues searching with patience that borders on pure and raw scrutiny.ㅤPeople often shows reality in frightened doses by far less:ㅤreputation,ㅤa weapon,ㅤa story told by someone else,ㅤthe mere possibility of what another might be.ㅤFear has always possesed a remarkable imagination.ㅤㅤㅤ❛❛ㅤㅤNoㅤ.ᐣㅤㅤ❜❜ㅤㅤA mortal tends to find something worth fearing eventually.ㅤBlood stands hands far too often,ㅤghosts linger where others cannot see them and decisions made when mercy and necessity ceased being compatible are close companions.ㅤㅤ❛❛ㅤㅤMy,ㅤmy.ㅤI wonder if that is bravery or just a fool trying to make himself look bigger.ㅤCareful,ㅤyou've looked much closer than most people ever dare to.ㅤㅤ❜❜ㅤㅤ

“Impressed, honestly. Show me the notebook you spent days using to come up with this and I’ll give you your very own gold star.”

 @thrcnody  :  [  7.  ]  sender  wipes  away  the  receiver’s  falling  tears  with  their  thumb  and  whispers,  “i’m  here."

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓  𝐀  𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐄  𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐇𝐄  𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓  ;  it  was  a  pain  that  was  indescribable  —  a  feeling  that  he  never  had  thought  he  would  have  ever  felt.  For  how  are  you  supposed  to  feel  when  you’ve  lost  what  was  most  important  to  you?  Dae-ho  had  been  more  than  just  Cheol-min’s  brother  —  he  was  his  child,  in  a  way.  His  best  friend.  His  entire  world.  Anyone  who  was  anyone  had  known  that,  with  how  much  he  would  always  talk  about  his  little  brother,  or  the  way  his  entire  expression  light  up  when  he  did.  But  now?  Now,  there  was  no  lighting  up  at  the  mention  of  Dae-ho.  There  was  no  sunshine.

                                                 Grief  is  a  terrible  thing.

𝐇𝐄  𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐁  𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇  𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓  𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊  ;  wiping  away  his  tears  and  yet  they  don’t  stop.  Sleeping  had  become  difficult.  Eating,  more  so  (  especially  for  someone  as  good  motivated  as  Cheol-min  ).  Living  had  becoming  difficult.  Since  this  brother  was  born,  he  promised  he  would  do  everything  and  anything  he  could  to  protect  him,  and  even  though  he  had  tried  everything  in  his  power  to  stop  the  demon  from  taking  his  brothers  life,  he  came  up  short.  He  was  a  failure,  that  much  was  certain.  How  could  he  keep  any  other  promise  he  had  ever  made?  How  could  he  show  his  face  to  his  friends,  his  family,  knowing  that  he  was  too  late?  It  made  him  sick.

“  I’m  fine.  ”

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃  𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒  𝐓𝐎  𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋  𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘  ;  his  own  arm  coming  up  to  rub  at  his  eyes  —  a  lie  that  was  obviously  a  lie  as  voice  speaks  hoarsely.  He  flinches  briefly,  image  of  his  brothers  body  neatly  positioned  in  a  chair  like  he  was  some  sort  of  object  flashing  in  his  mind,  Cheol-min  briefly  gasping  for  air  as  eyes  snap  open,  sweat  beading  upon  his  brow.  His  heart  aches,  his  lungs  burn  —  it  should  have  been  him.

                                        Why  couldn’t  it  have  been  him?

“Sorry  I  …  it’s  still  just  really  fresh.  But  I  promise  —  I  promise,  I’m  fine.”

Whether  he  was  telling  that  to  Minkyu  or  himself,  was  another  question  entirely.