#truedeaths

open: ʙᴀsᴛɪʟʟᴇ ‘ᴅᴏᴏᴍ ᴅᴀʏs’ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀs

katsusuke had always been intensely private , even as a child. his father often said that he lived more his head head than the real world—which must have been a complaint. but somehow , whenever he said it , katsusuke didn’t think it sounded much like an insult. it was like he was wistful , as if his father wished that he could still escape into his own head. 

which , katsusuke supposed he got. but now he lives a life split apart , sometimes feeling like he was barely able to keep up with either. every once in a while , one half would threaten to spill into the other—but he always maintained control. except for one person.

&& as he looks at ykaterina right now—he wonders what she means. perhaps it’s an invitation for them to pick which life he prefers , which head he wants to live in. but neither option is good ;; he wants a third choice without knowing what that might be asking for. but a third is better than the two he has now && maybe that’s greedy , but he’s getting desperate.

open: ʙᴀsᴛɪʟʟᴇ ‘ᴅᴏᴏᴍ ᴅᴀʏs’ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇʀs

does she remember what she said to him? she looks at him , as if trying to tell if he’s serious before laughing && throwing an empty shell into the bowl of peanuts. 

“ i said a lot of things to you, ” she says , picking up another peanut && half-heartedly picking at it to try to free it of the jacket. “ so you should be specific. ” she had managed to get a hole in , but plenty of peanut shell under her nail—so she gives it up && drops it back into the bowl as she looks at sungjin , this time eyes squinted as she waits for more information.

@truedeaths​ asked: 🍓 😌

send a 🍓 for a compliment / opinion ig lmao

@truedeaths wants to hear some positivity. OPEN.

wren ╳ ⋮  ———— WHEN SHE WAS younger , wren used to hate gatherings like this. overly extravagant dresses , shoes that pinched her toes , make up that made her feel like a painting more than a person—it was rarely fun. not to mention that for most of her life , she hadn’t been allowed anywhere close to the bar. && whenever she did try , the bartenders would always give her this patronizing look && ask if a fine lady like herself should really be drinking hard liquor. 

but she comes as a different person now ;; she’s sure if she had met her past self , she would be unrecognizable ( tattoos up && down her arms , dark && dramatic make up , a dress that showed far more skin than a proper woman should show )  — && that’s exactly how she’d want it. the person she grew up to be  ( && had always been ) was nothing like the girl her parents tried to make her anyway.

one thing that hadn’t changed , though , were the predatory men that stalked joints like this ;; swirling && slow swimming like sharks picking out the weakest link. it’s something that wren has trained for since she was young && she’s able to ward off most of them either with a look or , if they continued to be pushy , a flash of the knife she had strapped to her thigh under her dress. one way or another , most of them got the message. 

this one didn’t seem to get it though , following wren around && getting closer && closer at every chance. even the knife didn’t seem to deter him , thinking it some kind of foreplay instead of a warning. && as much as wren would like to use the knife , she’s less than interested in getting kicked out of this party for stabbing , especially since the night was so young && she looked so good. && this not even taking into consideration how expensive this dress is && how much getting this bastard’s blood on it wouldn’t be worth it.

just as her grip tightened on her glass , preparing for a very terse flinging of her drink , she feels a hand on her shoulder. at first , she thinks she’s being ganged up on , but the appearance of the stranger seems to make her stalker back off. though she’s not much for being a damsel-in-distress , wren turns to give a curt thank you but she’s caught off guard by how familiar the stranger looks. && then recognition slowly dawns over her face as she whispers— 

ROSES BLOOM ON THE APPLES OF HER CHEEKS, a miscellany of puerile embarrassment and raw frustration for having fallen victim to this labyrinth of crowded streets through which she had sauntered and run and almost even crawled for the past, doleful hours. CROWNED QUEEN of an aureus kingdom in which gold and diamonds perpetually glimmer underneath the artificial rays of fame, Ahri has never truly grown accustomed to the frigid reality that permeates the entirety of the world outside of studios, agency buildings and luxurious apartments  ;  she feels like a foreigner in her own city, like an alien visiting a mysterious planet, LIKE A FOX IN THE WOLVES’ DEN.

And this is why, despite the tempestuous storm cruelly thundering within the confines of her tight ribcage, she still manages to paint her countenance in the brazen pigments of bonhomie whilst naught but the most dulcet of syllables waltz ‘pon the edge of her tongue.   ❝  The last thing I want is to be a bother, but... My bag was stolen, my mobile was stolen with it and guess what  ?  My gps map was also stolen with everything else.  ❞   Lower labrum is thus puckered onwards into the vision of an unmistakable and dainty moue  ;  beauteous beast becomes a docile darling, a fragile little thing with sharp fangs carefully concealed behind plush tiers and gracious simpers.   ❝  Help an innocent soul and I’m certain that life will eventually smile back at you.  ❞

open: sᴇɴᴅ “📂“ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ʏᴇᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴜsᴇʟᴇss ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ

i’m going to randomize && we got!: saint , wren , & dieu!

saint: he actually knows how to make like 12 different pasta shapes && is usually able to name them on sight.

wren: she once got plastered && snuck into the louvre just to heckle the mona lisa all night before leaving. she has some really sloppy videos on her phone of her doing it.