I’m feeling a little broken
right now
I’m sure there are better things
(more…)
We dream of things. We all do, sometimes. We all wake up from worlds without end, often without remembering what made them so wonderful.
There’s something in my hand—like a stone, a jewel glinting in the darkness, or a ball of yarn unwinding down the path toward treasure…
I gasp for air, a nameless cry
The tears that will not spring to eye
The groans unspoken, breaking free
I swallow them back down in me
drink down the sun, like a golden
beam seeping into my heart
play it again in the morning
draw it back up and restart
wake me now
the world’s all up
sun in the sky
and tea in my cup
slow down now
and play that song
the song that carries
my heart along
Remind me tomorrow
When weariness passes
And when all my classes
Are geared toward the doing
And less the get throughing
joy is one of those things
you have to reach out and catch it
remember the things that you love
in the moments that don’t feel enough
what is the worth of a poem, caught in the hand
the words that tumble over and over themselves
poured out of a heart that’s too full, a mind that’s too loud
maybe someday, somehow I’ll figure it out
Last Order wouldn’t stop staring at him.
“That’s creepy,” Accelerator told her, shoving her off the end of the couch with one arm.
“‘Don’t be mean!’ Misaka Misaka protests, flailing her arms for balance,” Last Order squawked indignantly. She shot back upright and glared.
He eyed her from the corner of his eye, but she just huffed and clambered back up beside him.
“Misaka thinks that you look happy, Misaka Misaka notes with satisfaction.” Last Order grinned. “Misaka thinks that you should stay here with her forever.”
“Happy, huh?” he murmured and closed his eyes.
Such an odd feeling. Happy.
“I found my lost child,” she said, a small quiet familiar voice reaching through the maelstrom of Accelerator’s blackened heart and the black, black wings sprouting from his back and his own scream wailing into the sky.
They weren’t people, they’d told him over and over. They were windup dolls. They didn’t live.
Accelerator wasn’t supposed to defeat them. He was supposed to kill them, or none of this would actually work.
It made him be creative. He had to find something to enjoy in all this, solving a problem differently, in a new way, with a new application of his power. He hurt people who deserved it to find some taste for the damage he was going to inflict, leaned into the adrenaline rush each time.
He spoke to them before each experiment, tested the theory again, and time and again, they failed to respond because they weren’t people.
So this wasn’t cold-blooded murder.
The gun is in his mouth, and there’s something about the glint in Chuuya’s eye that makes Dazai react by smiling around the barrel (more…)
the stars along their endless track
shine over ages cut through time
shine in my heart and shine on my eyes
no matter how dark, there is light
1. Damage the enemy. If you can’t bring the power, don’t bother showing up. If you can’t hurt your enemies, then stay home and out of the way. Villains do damage.
2. Be ruthless about those who get in your way. If you can’t be heartless and hard-hearted, then go be a hero instead. Villains get the job done, no matter what, no matter who they have to hurt.
3. Commit to your goals. If you’re going to cause mass destruction, destroy it all. Be powerful enough to leave the rest unhurt. If your goal just happens to be that no one lays a finger on your sister… Well.
“I’ll show you a real villain aesthetic!” He throws back his head and laughs.
“You’re too loud,” Accelerator grumbled at the unwanted intruder in his bed.
“‘Don’t be so mean!’ says Misaka Misaka, glaring at you.” Last Order was indeed glaring, but she only managed to look pouty and not at all intimidating from where she’d sprawled against his side over the blanket, her frog strangled in her arms.
“You should be in your own bed.” He didn’t bother to prod her away.
She burrowed in closer. “‘It’s nicer here,’ says Misaka Misaka, stifling a yawn.” It didn’t stay stifled.
Accelerator watched her yawn, head dropping, eyes closing… and sighed.
Last Order was asleep.
Proof that Yata loves Saruhiko: he’s making pudding without any fruit or vegetables for the third time in a row, while muttering about immature picky eaters.
“Oh?” Saruhiko asks, with his most annoying, sideways smile and glittering eyes. “I’m the immature one?”
Yata just glares at him. “You can’t go shopping right now because you did in your leg,” he reminds Saruhiko, pointing with the stirring spoon.
Saruhiko scowls.
“Because you were reckless. And that’s the only reason I’m cooking for you.” Yata huffs.
Lying. He’d cook for Saruhiko anyway, does cook for him. He just adds fruits and vegetables.