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ATLAS ROMAN | 40 | NORTH SIDE ALPHA | BAR OWNER

“There is something different about these two, something dangerous. They will be the end of you, but that will mean very little when the end comes. Watch them closely, but love them like the others; treat them no differently, don’t let them know that something dreadful is in their cards. You made a mistake in your youth and now it comes back to haunt them; a shame, for these twins have so much potential. One has the potential to be a true alpha, but they will suffer in silence and loneliness first. The one thing that they will always have is each other—separation will never last long; they will always find one another.” —Medea Bava

That old woman was right—they are dangerous, or at least he is.

There has always been a striking duality to the boy, a duality that his older siblings do not possess and something that is rarely seen in their pack pathology. Atlas is something of an outsider, a stranger in his own skin despite his parents’ thinly veiled attempts at understanding. It is the wolf in him—it drives him crazy; makes him strong but makes him weak in the same breath because he is always acting before he thinks it through. While the others can pick out the innate weaknesses in their prey Atlas watches and cannot decide which is more beautiful, their weaknesses or their strengths. His parents brush it off as childish brashness, but it is something that will haunt the boy into adulthood. He learns early on that he is different but it is much later, perhaps too late, that he finds out the dangerous truth behind it.

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EHREN KINGSLEY | 27 | SEER

There is a black and purple stain under his eye, a large swath of bruise composed of tiny broken vessels and anger. Painted by the same knuckles that orchestrated the starry sky of spots on his arms, fingers grabbing at him as a means of halting. 

Mistakes — all his.

He knows that he is wrong as his belly skims the bottom of the window, the door an afterthought when creeping in and out of his own bedroom has become a ritual. He used to pray to that unlocked window, Gabe waiting on the street with the car, tires peeling to announce their departure. He has grown since then, but not much; not hardly considering the events of last night, when in his rage over nothing and everything he said something about their mother.

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ARSRP friends—

Looking for plots? Hit me up! I’m super excited for all the possibilities on this site, and while I have some solid ideas myself, I love creating a tight knit community. So let me know if you’re looking for anything, or just generally need a dedicated to partner!!

queenie#2652 on discord 💜

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alias: Queenie

pronouns: she/her

favourite tropes or plots: LITERALLY ALL OF THEM! But, star crossed lovers, mutual pining, friends to lovers, age gap, childhood friends to adult lovers, please someone give me siblings. JUST GIVE ME EVERYTHING PLEASE!

favourite supernatural media: Anything Anne Rice honestly, Raven Cycle, Hemlock Grove

if you were a supernatural creature what would you be (and why)?: A witch—I’ve always admired their connection to nature

your favourite gif/a gif that best describes you:

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HOW TO LOVE A GOD:

i. be prepared to burn. there is no way this will not spell tragedy, and you know this singsong melody of warning bells: your father’s gentle words, the restless-reckless humming beneath your skin. if you want to love a god, learn to ignore it.

ii. throw yourself off cliffs to teach yourself how to fly. throw yourself off cliffs to teach yourself how to fall.

iii. hollow out your body, divest yourself of these useless mortal organs. fill yourself with longing instead.

iv. know that there are only a handful of gods but a world of mortals. you will not be the first glint of metal to catch the light of the sun, and no matter what you weave into your heart at night, you will not be the last.

v. never forget that you will burn.

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Robin Harshaw — 30 — Priest

Beautiful boy, there are constellations lining the cathedral walls of your heart and in that dark alcove in the back of the church, they shine through your shirt. Your life given to God, He will never hold your heart like she does—no one will ever touch you in the places where her fingerprints linger. But faith is a mysterious thing and sometimes you wonder if you believe in anything at all...

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I miss you. I miss not touching each other. Not seeing each other, not breathing in each other. I want you. All the time. No one else.

Adele, Blue is the Warmest Color. (via theburnthatkeepseverything)

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”36 Hours” By Vincent Lacrocq and Kristell Chenut

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“1.You’re just making excuses for your heart. 2.I’m sorry for lying through the same soft lips I kissed you with. 3.I promised one day that I’d bring you back a star but I caught one and it burned a hole in my hand. 4.When you’re so old that you no longer remember my face, I will meet you for the first time again and again. 5.I want to be your 9pm kisses and 3am whispers. I want to be the one you hold while you sleep. 6.I think you’re making a huge mistake. 7.I think you’re convincing yourself that it won’t work so that you don’t have to try. 8.I think you’re scared. 9.Why did you promise me forever? 10.We can learn to put each other first. 11.We’re not broken, just bent. 12.I’ve forgotten every word except your name. 13.I’m sorry I never thanked you for sacrifice; for the massages and the breakfast in bed and the late night car rides with the windows down. 14.Did you ever care at all? 15.My father found me passed out on the kitchen floor and when I woke, the only thing I could do was throw up vodka and your name. 16.You were always the one that I wanted. 17.Your eyes have always reminded me of a late night ocean speckled with flecks of gold. 18.Am I not good enough for you? 19.I was there when you became a teenager. I was there when you became an adult. I’ve loved you throughout. 20.I would show you love one thousand times over. 21.You kissed me like a promise and I never questioned why. 22.I allow the cold to engulf me in his arms because his touch feels just like yours. 23.I am in love with you to the very depth of your being. 24.I wish I was less volatile. 25.I wish you were less cynical. 26.I wish neither of us knew what tears tasted like. 27.It was 2am and the whole world had stopped. We walked into love. 28.Our bruised necks and scratched backs were the most delightful reminder of our love. 29.You’ve always surprised me into surprising myself. 30.You destroyed me and I said thankyou; I said please.”

— everything i wish i would’ve said to make you stay

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“I understand now that boundaries between noise and sound are conventions. All boundaries are conventions, waiting to be transcended. One may transcend any convention if only one can first conceive of doing so. Moments like this, I can feel your heart beating as clearly as I feel my own, and I know that separation is an illusion. My life extends far beyond the limitations of me.”

— Robert Frobisher, Cloud Atlas

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“And the passing trains in the distance sound like the beat of your heart I will not have the pleasure of hearing again.”

— h.d.

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“you made flowers grow in my lungs, and although they are beautiful, I cannot breathe.”

— and yet I cannot stop watering them.

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la devotee // panic! at the disco

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Thomas Tolly Emerson Winther | 17 | Lancaster | angry oldest child | quidditch prince

Tolly (he swears to god if you call him Thomas he’ll punch you in the throat) is a prince of Manhattan, who was expected to go to Chatsworth Hill so that he can follow in his father’s footsteps. So far so good - he’s a well known quidditch player and has a girlfriend to die for. Problem is he’s an angry little shit with an anorexia problem, that’s in love with his best friend. When no one’s looking he’s got his nose in old Shakespeare books and he dreams of studying the stars, instead of being stuck in an office. But as history would have it, he’s got to keep that pretty little nose clean unless he wants a good beating from daddy. The kind of boy who easily slides from one group to another, Tolly hides the things he doesn’t want other people to know incredibly well, unless of course you manage to get under his skin. Then he’ll tell you everything…

Please come love on this sinful, pureblooded little piece of shit. He needs his bby brother - gotta look after the bro, because he’s got a terrible hero complex. Also trying to get that girlfriend and best friend, so hit me up if you’re interested! 

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we’re in love during the war. does it make each moment more precious, or does it make each moment more difficult?

the war will turn us to monsters (i no longer recognize you) [j.m] (via mythpoetrynet)