#✶ she’s imperfect but she tries ✶ ( visage )

[espercr]

𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 ? 𝒊 𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒐 . . . 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 - 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐 .

[cffidelityy]

new tag dump!!

yes, they are all based off of songs on Sigyn's playlist, don't judge me.

[iruludavare]

❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜

{zero pressure because I have many responses to write with you but I wanted Touya to muster up the courage to say this in the right moment-}

An assortment of dialogue prompts || Accepting

     Perhaps Serena had not planned in this little evening of theirs for things to escalate this quickly.

     The dim lighting? Yes. The cliché trail of petals? The smell of roses and vanilla? Yes. All down to the meticulously chosen set of lingerie— sheer fabric matching skin tone, aside from delicate boning and structure, embroidered flowers of spring colours decorating along the tops of cups and and the bottoms, petals so cruelly and strategically placed, matching stockings fastened to dangling bits of ribbon. Covering barely, yet hiding little. But he had arrived early. She had not the chance to toss over the robe. And maybe he had an inkling of what Serena was planning the moment that she said she could not meet him at the airport like usual, and that it would be better for him to meet her at the house instead.

     She had not planned for that kiss to welcome him home to be so heated. To be scooped up into his arms and for neither to find that one enough. For the woman's legs to end up tight around his waist, and him making a beeline to her room orientated between the catching of breaths and 'I missed you's and desperate grabs. Goodness knows how she managed to convince him to sit on the edge of the bed. How she stopped herself from simply skipping a few steps and pushing him down onto the carefully laid out blanket. Even if she needs him now, this night is about him— to ease his stress—, and they have to be patient.

     But compromises can be made. And so here they are. She, still in that set, straddling her partner's clothed lap, one arm draped behind his neck for balance, the other with its hand moving over his chest, hips rolling in time against his just so at a tempo neither needed to communicate. A quiet plea in the arching of her back. Thighs trembling each time she lowers herself down onto him and pressure grows, the occasional, higher-pitched moan hitting her lips in the midst of it before Serena can silence it. Only recently ending that passionate flurry to instead focus on his neck. Kissing, sucking, and back again as though to whisk away any stinging. Reverent, searing, adoring. Silent confessions, wordless worship. His touch is too much and yet what she craves more of, and in growing euphoria does Serena realise how much she needed this, too— needs him. Every inch, every perfect thing about him and every imperfection.

     And then comes finally something Serena had planned for. She stops, the drag of her hips painfully in the peak of another brief ascent. A breathless laugh muffles against her lips, against the base of his neck where her features lay buried. She loves him. So much. Silly statements and all.

          "H-Hell? No, the opposite. But if you need some clues on what I'm going to do to you..."

     Another kiss plants itself on that same spot, a finger tracing some feather-light line down his torso and back up again. She is not entirely cruel in this lapse.

          "Do you remember what we tried last time? What I said? I don't break my promises... I'm going to make you remember tonight. This is just the start of it,"

          Her head lifts. A brief flick, to send stray curls of honey and glittering gold in the flickering candlelight back as the hand at his chest moves to join the other in draping behind his neck. A proper anchor, so that she might lean back, just a little— just for his gaze. Space and a pause enough to let his mind wander through possibilities, yet not too far. And in her own gaze, he is gorgeous. Radiant, even. All that she knows of love present in his visage, all of belonging in his voice, and all of intimacy in his touch.

     A smile of equal endearment from her breaks the pause, drawing her form in flush against Touya's, and sinking back down into his lap. Picking up where she had left off, albeit slower, drawn out and full of no less desire or passion, as she captures his lips in a kiss of the same kind. And is lulled into another. And another. He is always so eager, so ready to rise to the occasion. So sweetly intoxicating and enthralling to the woman. Only when it becomes agonisingly clear a second more would pull them into the same fiasco as before does she break the kiss, and features move to nestle near the shell of his ear. Voice airy and coquettish and warm, the slightest quiver laced throughout it as she feels his heart racing along with her frantic own.

          "All you have to do is relax, Touya. Let me take care of you. Show you how much I love you. Can—"

     A sigh interrupts her words. Shuddering, an involuntary breath of relief born from rapture.

          "Can you do that for me...?"

[mugunghwc]

She had not expected him to kind of hug her in an odd manner. Her hands actually grabbed his, so she could push him away, and see herself in the mirror again, where she would meet his eyes. "Like an ugly thing." The bikini was black but frilly and with bows. Swimsuit would hide more but a bigger pain to slide down. She wished she had Rei's body, no imperfections. Milky white and soft. Something that may change with her belly but still could be fixed unlike her many scars and tattoos.

Dissatisfaction flickered across Ji-eun's face as Fang tried to break free from his embrace. He resisted at first, burying his nose against her dark tresses, but ultimately, he let go. A sly smile remained on his lips even then, as he stepped back, his head was thrown back and both hands were hidden inside the pockets of his pants. Ji-eun appeared as if to he was checking her out for the first time, taking in her visage through the reflection in the mirror.

“Why is that? Don’t you like your tattoos anymore?” he asked, genuinely curious. He knew those were something one could easily come to regret. He didn't think to mention her scars or her lithe form, as she had always romanticized those aspects from what he recalled. “What is it?” he asked again, stepping closer and looking down, hoping she’d make direct eye contact. There was an amused look on his face, curious about what was going on in that head of hers. “You can always remove them with laser,” he suggested, though unsure if that was what bothered her in the first place.

[hedonickenopsia]

◌ೄ◌ྀ ˊˎ •• 𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖔: 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖜𝖑 𝖔𝖓 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖘, 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 •• ◌ೄ◌ྀ

chasing impossible things with a heart full of scars

ੈ✩• 𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖔: 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖜𝖑 𝖔𝖓 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖘, 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊 • ੈ✩

Some people look in the mirror and cannot recognize themselves as having been altered so immensely that the person they once were and the one they were now could not have been more different. When Emma looked in the mirror, she saw the most horrendous thing that anyone could ever lay his or her eyes on—her reflection. Being perfect was like attempting to survive a disease that was slowly killing you, rotting you from the inside out. Her father was the definition of perfection, and her brother was the same as well.

The impact that had on her, the void she felt within, she attempted to fill with the power of being a princess to society in Los Angeles. Nevertheless, standing in front of the mirror all she saw was a disease that was eating her alive. Her eyes were bland, her lips not plush or soft enough, her skin tone uneven, and her hair dull and simplistic in color.

Clasping her wrist in her hand, her eyes filled with tears as she caught the sight of her naked body in the mirror. She had tried so long to be perfect. Emma wanted to be a daughter her father could be proud of, and a sister Ethan could look on and smile but how could she expect that when her distorted features and repulsive body resembled a broken porcelain doll; having tried so hard to be perfect but was thrown to the floor because it was never good enough. With this dark cloud that towered over her, this secret of their mother’s death was hanging on her shoulders. She turns away from the mirror, the tears burning her eyes and traveling down her cheeks.

"Gorgeous, are you coming back to bed? I am not done with you yet."

Was she not capable of more? That was rather simple, she was not. This was her life and nothing her array of friends or minions could do would change that. She was worthless. She would always be worthless. Emma Sinclair was worthless, and she knew it, everyone knew it. They just did not want to say anything, but she could see it in their eyes.

Petals part to allow shallow breaths to escape from the confines of a delicate throat, brain induced in sleep like a coma with blackness, no dreams plague her mind as she slumbered nothing but pitch nothingness endlessly, waking does not come easily to her at first; her mind remains in the abyss of sleep as waking hours tug at her ivory caps sunlight splashing across the flesh as she gradually tugged from her sleep, the process slow as porcelain lids raise leisurely to a halfway point upon whiskey tainted hues with her thoughts still fogged incoherently from the doze like a coma. Her thoughts were scattered everywhere, the effect of sleep still shown across her bisque visage. “It’s been fun, gorgeous. Don’t forget about me—until next time.” A soft groan erupted from her delicate throat, nimble fingers coxed with the crimson duvet, head drops downward. Ever since Emma found out that Cameron was only with her because of her father and her last name, she had felt as if all her imperfections were screaming nonstop, she used to keep them quiet. She used to be able to smile and pretend everything was all right but not anymore. She could not do it anymore. She was trapped by the voices in her head, and they wouldn't shut up.

Why couldn't they shut up? Why couldn't she just be happy? All Emma wanted was happiness but that was a foreign concept when it came to the brunette.

With a start, the brunette rose from her bed in an alarmed state with tears dripping down the sides of her face in a steady stream. She told herself that it was just a dream, but deep-down poor Emma knew that it was a nightmare. A nightmare of the thing that she wanted most in the entire world. Emma wanted to be perfect, she wanted her mother to still be alive, and she wanted to not have all this blood on her hands, and in her dream, she got it, but like everything else in life, it came at a price.

A price that she was constantly paying because this was reality and none of her dreams would come true—she was a Sinclair and the Sinclair last name was inked in blood, and she was her father’s daughter after all.

[killwill]

🥀 william “will” mikaelson tag drop  !!  🥀

[tinakennrd]

character posters: the l word generation q hadestown au ( aka this is entirely jennifer’s fault for putting a hadestown song on bette’s playlist )

“'cause here’s the thing... to know how it ends and still begin to sing it again... as if it might turn out this time, i learned that from a friend of mine.”

[espercr---archived]

✶ - mun vs muse ! ( missa vs hope )

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 : the wonderful @galaeus ! 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 : @betelguide , @foolheartier & YOU !

[maybcrry]

tag  drop  part  two.

🌻 --- visage  /  a heart of gold and a stardust soul. 🌻 --- desires  /  you have a great deal of love inside of you. 🌻 --- aesthetic  /  she is imperfect but she tries. she is lonely most of the time. 🌻 --- character study  /  you are so brave and quiet they forget you are suffering. 🌻 --- headcanons  /  your words can plant gardens or burn whole forests down. 🌻 --- wardrobe  /  she who carries the heavens in her eyes.

[espercr]

now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night , oh . is it that 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 ? i guess so . say you can't sleep , baby , i know . that's that me , 𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎 .

[sailor-sun-18]

GENSHIN IMPACT

Genre: Fluff/Comfort

Character: BEIDOU

SEA AND SALT

Waves softly hit the black wood, gently flowing on its curves and forming small drops in its imperfections. 

Sun rays beat the calm sea that stretched beyond the horizons, where the line between sky and water was indistinguishable.

With your head resting on the palm of your hand, you sighed, your legs slowly swayed over the blue that seemed to take the shape of a floor, fixed on the surface but always moving inside. If you had leaned a little more, perhaps you could have touched it with the tip of your shoes, but the numerous wooden planks, stacked under you, reminded you of the actual distance between you and the sea. It stretched for meters and meters. But the water seemed so close.

The big white clouds behaved like a mirror. Your imagination projected on them all the events of the morning. The images were clear, like the ones belonging to the liquid crystals of a phone. A small pout formed itself on your lips. Morning had already come to an end and you had done nothing. You huffed, your annoyed gaze settled on the plaster that held your arm hostage, the cause of your unproductive morning. The sailors of the tall sailing ship had forbidden you any kind of task you had wanted to do. 

“You’ll help us when you recover, now you should get a good rest” they said. Their intentions were good, but you hated sitting around.

You had tried to cook, but the cook herself had thrown you out before you could hold a knife. You had even tried bribing Kazuha to let you help him with his chores, but he had only smiled. It goes without saying that all your attempts had proved to be futile.

So there you were, bored to death and without anything to do. Maybe you could appreciate the newfound tranquility and moment of rest... you snorted, you didn’t want to. You sighed once again, you felt like a burden, maybe you should have just stayed in your small house in Liyue. You shook your head, you would have come anyway, with or without your captain’s permission, not that she could have done anything about it. She knew how stubborn you could be.

The wind, that full of pride inflated the sails, tickled your cheeks as a comforting caress or as a mocking pinch. Which one was of the two, you didn’t want to know, if it was the latter, you doubted you could win a fight against air.

A loud boisterous laugh caught your attention. Your shoulders were suddenly held in a strong half embrace. The voice of your captain echoed in your ears.

“Admiring the sea, yeah?” her bright pink eye was filled with mirth, “Today the sea is calm, wish the winds would blow a little more!”

A bored look adorned your visage. A lethargic, unenthusiastic ‘yes’ left your lips. Beidou looked at your slightly bent figure, a small smile rested on her lips.

A loud slap hit your back almost making you lose balance. “Chin! up!” she exclaimed while you were massaging your poor aching back.

“Today, you can’t do anything, but tomorrow! You can do anything you want.”

A silent grumble was your only response.

“C’mon, c’mon, sometimes, rest is necessary to regain strength, yeah?”

You looked at her from the corner of your eye. 

“If you say so” came your response.

The brunette crossed her arms and sighed, “Wait here- she said -I’ll be right back.”

As the wood creaked under her footsteps, your hands itched, ready to do something. Your bored [e-c] irises returned their gaze towards the vast blue. Fishes jumped out of the slightly rippled waves. Their scales reflected the rays of the sun for a few seconds, before returning to the water embrace. Your lungs swelled, salt tickled your breath. 

The wood creaked once again under heavy footsteps. A rice dumpling was placed in front of you, you looked at the captain standing by your side. Beidou smiled, gesturing you to take it with a nod of her head.

You took it, your hand lightly squeezed the soft rice.

“Now eat- she said, eating her own dumpling -if you do, you’ll recover in no time.”

And for the first time, that day, a small smile took shape on your lips

[scribbledpagesbysxn]

Broken Glasses

She looks into the mirror at the woman before her,

the stretched  scars on every fold of her body,

the imperfections, so overtly beheld.

Her attempts go to a million, yet she loses nothing but will.

She's a large frame who barely fits in, like she does in her garms,

unlovely, displeasing, and far from charming, she calls.

...

They look at their person with such disdain,

their visage unsymmetrical, their arms, never slender.

The necklines, the patches of colour, the gap unseen,

"Even beauty marks don't seem beautiful to me."

They wish if only they could be like those on the big boards

or the covers of magazines everyone adores

Instead they cry in the corner, desperate to disappear.

...

He sees others, the toned and fit, the delight to the eye

and curses at the stick of a limb he was given.

A thousand feastings wouldn't be enough

to please his body that never grows.

Broomstick, feather weight, he's heard it all

made himself numb and at the verge of giving up, he stood.

...

Flawless, pristine, the centre of everyone's envy,

she's a model figure, tailor made to fit like a glove.

But that which causes the maleficent chase for an hourglass shape

has her body crumbling like the sand that's enclosed in.

Her organs give out with every supplement, pain racks her bones.

Oh what she'd do to turn back time,

to break away from the distorted delusions

to be imperfect all over again.

~Sxn

I've tried free verses for the first time. If you liked this, show some love here too.

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 8

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tulipa greigii ~ A tulip whose ivory and scarlet petals offer two sides of the same coin; suffering and painlessness.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

Wind.

The rough tug of the wind against you helped quell the dizziness of the void. It wasn’t that you couldn’t see, it was just that there was nothing to see.

Salt.

It’s overwhelming tanginess flooded your being so forcefully that it managed to stop your tireless spinning.

Flora.

Their delicate petals rubbed against you and encircled you in their sweetly fresh nectar.

Alcohol.

Its singe bloomed a forest fire within you as pricks of needle-like bonfires kissed away your gaps and left you feeling pieced together.

Then the darkness dipped away like the raising of an ethereal curtain and a forest devoid of human imperfection stretched before you.

You walked, and walked, and walked. The moss gave the pads of your feet wet kisses and squelched between your bare toes.

You weren’t aware of your circumstances, of how you arrived in this piece of tranquility, of how long you had tread through these singing trees. Only did you realize the weight of your journey when a focused pressure began building along your stitched edges.

It manifested greater and greater with every soft step until it intensified to a level you felt like you were going to implode. The invisible jaws threatened to puncture your rebuilt skin and began dragging you to the welcoming earth.

Framed by intricate lattices of evergreen branches was the entrance to a clearing just ahead. You fought your impending fall, knees buckling closer and closer to the forest floor with every labored step.

The moment your toe touched the plush grass of the overgrown clearing the phantom pain released its grip and was instantly was washed away by the sunbeams that were no longer filtered by the canopy. Beautiful wildflowers of lavender and periwinkle danced around the imprints you left in the dewy grass as you entered the safe space.

Instead of tears, specs of starlight welled at the corner of your eyes as you gazed unto the form resting lazily in the field. Marco released himself from his daydream and turned his head to regard you. His smile seemed to order more rays of sunshine to plummet themselves into the clearing.

“M-Marco?” You said with caution. You were startled at your formation of words for it felt like you were speaking for the first time in this realm of loving silence.

His grin widened at your recognition and he nodded excitedly. He glowed with an iridescent vitality that you weren’t sure radiated from him or from the intense sunlight. When he rose from his resting place, you noted the candle that resided in his shirt pocket. Stray muffin crumbs were stubbornly stuck to the wax.

He held out a gleaming hand to you and you took it without hesitation. His fingers wrapped around yours with a pleasant warmth and led you out of the clearing. You immediately felt the assault at your side return and Marco looked down at you with calm concern. He beckoned you further with a supportive arm hooked under your waist until your feet no longer felt dirt but sand.

The velvety touch of the sand sucked the pain from your body once more. You wiggled your toes in it and relished in the lovely heat it brought to you. Marco released your hand and smiled at you once more. When you stared blankly at him he chuckled with the absence of sound. Marco nodded in the direction away from the forest and crinkled his eyes before turning around to walk back to the clearing.

“Marco wait!” You called. He halted his light steps and turned to face you.

“Jean-” You began and your fallen comrade shook his head.

His smile endured though, in fact, it blossomed into a sweet laugh. He nodded once and patted his chest over where his heart used to beat. He took the candle from his pocket and brought it to his lips in a gentle kiss. Then, he turned and faded into the foliage.

When you spun to face away from the greenery, the sight before you stole your breath and replaced it with the salty spray of the largest pond you had ever laid eyes on. It was so vast that you were unable to see the other side of it. Rippling waves adorned with white froth caressed the shore and the sun shed constellations of light along its surface.

As you trotted closer along the beach two figures aparated along the shoreline. They were sitting side by side, fishing lines lapping at the water as they smiled at one another lost in unspoken words and familiarity.

“Opa...Petra?” You questioned with a voice as quivering as an earthquake. The two turned their heads to the side to regard you with pure affection. You fell to your knees between them and hugged them to you. You felt the energy of the mini galaxies within them flowing into you. Your grandfather rubbed your arm while Petra smoothed the hair away from your cosmic-coated cheeks.

“I don’t understand what’s going on.” You choked back a sob as Petra held your face. Opa placed his calloused hand on yours to get your attention. He pointed to a structure that stood taller than any of the pines you had wandered through earlier. The building stretched its ivory stones up to cradle a grand light that watched over the edge of the great pond.

“I have to go there?” You asked and he affirmed with a squeeze of his hand. You looked from your loved ones who shined of opal and sea glass and then back to the structure.

“Can you come with me?” You pleaded. They both shook their heads. No sign of pain, fear, or terror were etched into their beautiful features. Petra helped you rise to your feet and dusted off your knees.

As soon as her touch was absent from your skin it began to torch. You winced at the returning pain and began trodding over to the tower.

“I love you!” You called to them. They simply smiled and placed their hands over their hearts.

You raced against the bite, the incisors a ghost at your heels as you glided through the sand. The moment your hand gripped the iron railing the snaps of sharpened teeth crawled into the incoming tide.

You ascended the steps along the outside of the building. The metal sent coarse jolts of feeling through the soles of your feet. The temperature grew tepid and the wind more gracious as you reached the wooden door just below the magnificent light.

When you unlocked the door and pushed it inward, the creaking of the hinges revealed a figure standing with their back to you. He was framed by the afterglow of the lamplight and you already knew the identity of this luminous silhouette before he turned to face you.

“Father.” You exhaled and threw yourself into his arms. The force of a flaring supernova pushed you into the encircled embrace of a father who left this world too young. Freyr stroked the milky ways of your hair as you relished in the childhood comfort of the strong arms you had yearned to be in again.

He pulled away slightly to look at you. His well worked hands came to stroke your cheeks as his grin brought his dimples out of dormancy. His eyes were soft with love but his smile was bright with pride. He placed a hand on your head and gestured upwards.

“Yeah...I got pretty tall.” You sniffled through the fallen stars. Freyr sent them cascading back into space with a brush of his thumb. You swam in his eyes, your eyes. A trait that kept him with you always. They were filled with millions of words that he couldn’t tell you yet. You had a feeling that if you wanted to hear them you would have to climb to the lustrous lamp chamber.

Freyr regarded you with a knowing intuition. He gestured to his side with sympathetic eyes.

“It hurts, Dad.” You nodded, whimpering as you blinked through the stardust. Your father took your hands in his. He gestured to the hatch that led to the top of the tower. To where the light seeped through the cracks of the floor above. Freyr’s smile grew bittersweet as a sadness crept into the swirl of his irises. He pointed to your aching side and shook his head.

No pain.

You regarded the light through the ceiling. It was passive, neither beckoning nor denying you. It just existed.  

“Am-am I dying ?” Your words trembled just as you did. You felt your heart pound with the first spark of fear you had felt in this realm. Freyr leaned down to hold your gaze and keep you from crumbling. He neither confirmed nor denied it. He only continued to ground you with your hands in his.

“Will I be with you?” You asked. Freyr nodded once but furrowed his brow as if displeased with that idea. He then took your left hand to regard the ring around your left finger. He brushed the pads of his fingers over the little gem that held Levi’s promise to marry you someday.

His eyes fell upon the ring, to you, and then back towards the forest. He pointed in the direction of the tree-line as your gaze followed his hand.

“I can go back?” You asked breathily.

He nodded.

As you basked in the feeling of winter fireplaces, tumbling through tulips, and soft flannel cloth you realized you had a choice.

You felt so lovely. So lovingly painless. But if ridding yourself of that suffering meant not being able to see them again, to leave your paintings unfinished, you wanted it. You wanted to walk through the flaming charcoals of your wounds and bathe in the pressure upon your injuries if it meant coming home to them once more.

You needed to see Oma’s gracefully crinkled visage, hear her chide you for eating too little and working too much, feel her weathered hands as they hold yours while you gather your beautiful flowers.

You needed to see Jean’s amber eyes; how they sparkled with the determination at each new discovery. Hear his annoyingly teasing remarks that you thought you would never miss. Feel how his arm fit so snugly around yours as you dragged him into town.

And by the walls did you need to see Levi.

The finger that harbored your ring throbbed in aching to look upon him once more. You needed to see the beauty of his heart that was hidden in plain sight. Hear the chorus of radience that blessed you when he endowed you with his rare laugh. Feel the balming passion of his palms as they worshiped your back with affirmations and promises of protection. Taste the feeling of home you had built in an invisible beacon that always brought you back to one another.

“I can’t come yet.” You announced, the smallness of your statement betraying the firmness of your will.

You grasped at Freyr's arms as if he would dissolve into photons. You needed to cherish his presence for just a little longer. Freyr untangled his hands from yours and let you into his chest where you buried your head into a universe of memories.

A moment only lasts a moment, though, and soon Freyr was untangling you from himself. He paced his hands on your shoulders as you two exchanged silent affirmations of an infinite expanse of love. His lip quivered slightly, but behind his growing smile was utter adoration.  

You felt your father’s lips press an airy kiss to your forehead and then you were back at the edge of the clearing. The echoes of the trees vibrated off the canopy with an eerily low hum. You closed your eyes, already feeling the familiar prickle of your wound, and breathed in the crisp air.

A will to suffer, to love, to live surged through you and overpowered the daggers that dug into your body.

You felt the tingle of the collar of your scout jacket, the clammy handle of your blades, the press of the cool metal of the ODM gear at your hip, the panting of your horse underneath your legs.

Eyes wide open; you lept.

You were assaulted by piercing screams as you propelled yourself from the saddle. You eluded massive mouths dripping with saliva and discarded limbs. Evaded fallen scouts impaled by the cedar and oak of their sacrifices. Dodged the pieces of castle that were crumpled so easily by those traitors as if they were paper.

The sky cried tears of rock and flesh; a shower of carnage that stained the landscape with a crimson syrup. The blood of your comrades that rained up your lips and obscured your vision tasted of vile torment. It was fuel to the fire of your anguish to attack, to kill.

Nape after nape, your blade fed on the viscous vitality that had taken hundreds of voices from the battlefield. Until one voice rose above all others.

The moment Connie’s wail rocketed into your ears you changed trajectory with a swiftness that left you with whiplash. Through the crusted blood that dangled from your eyelashes you saw him positioned precariously on the side of a tree. Two titans were blocking his escape with arms spread wide and jaws clamping at the unsatisfying emptiness of the air.

Your scream thrusted you at the closest titan. Your boots dug into the tresses of its greasy hair as you stabbed your blades through its thick neck. To make room for Connie you latched onto the calves of the second monster and dislocated the backs of its knees with one precise sweep. As it began falling, Connie dug his wires into its forehead. He jumped from its expressionless face to flip over to its back. He sailed across the expanse of its shoulder blades and left scarlet track marks that instantly brought it to the ground.

The two of you regrouped on a nearby branch, chests heavy with adrenaline and the thick scent of decay.

“Thanks Y/N.” Connie said through an absence of breath. You nodded, wincing at the cracks in your dry throat as you swallowed. You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Of course-” As you started to speak a heinous roar presided over the battlefield. The god-like battle between Reiner and Eren in their titan forms was heating up and raising a thunder upon the earth. Grotesque moans suddenly seeped out of the treeline behind you as other titans became attracted to the fanfare like moths to a blinding light. You slowly turned your head to view an abnormal. Its eyes were wide with subconscious hunger as it charged in your direction.

“Connie, regroup with the others along the edge of the tree-line! Help them clear out the incoming titans and then move towards the interior to Reiner and Bertolt.” You instructed frantically, heart beating in time with the gargantuan footfalls of your attacker. Your hands unlatched the trigger on your flare and you pointed it skyward.

Connie flinched as the colored smoke rose above the canopy and met your hardened stare. You took in the hurt and betrayal of your former comrades engraved deep in the crevasses of his face before shouting once more.

“GO!” You yelled as you flew from the branch.

The abnormal’s twisted grin seemed to widen as you flew head on into its view. Its hands grabbed at the air around you like an infant trying to catch a garden butterfly. You danced around its gangly appendages trying to make your way up to its sweet spot. However, just as you reached its naked back the force akin to a meteor embedding itself into a tree caused your target to stumble backwards.

You pushed off of the abnormal’s shoulders to view the destruction and your eyes narrowed in violent resentment. Eren had pushed Reiner to the ground, thrown him with such a strength that he had tumbled into the edge of the forest and tore down all the trees in his path. Reiner seemed to have no disregard for your lives, so it was only fitting that you returned the sentiment. There he lay, yours for the slashing.

And slashing you did. You launched off of the abnormal and sailed over Reiner’s recovering vessel. Though not any amount of unbottled anger nor precision could cut through his hardened armor. Then, like a fleeting breeze, the opportune moment presented itself. Time seemed to slow as you honed in on his nape, now exposed by his movements to regain his posture.

A moment only lasts a moment, though.

Blinded by a desire to avenge all that was lost and undo the lies spun by his contempt for all of the souls within the walls, you charged for his neck even as you saw his hand come to block you. You were foolish enough to think that you could have cut through the knuckles that came to intercept your slices. That, maybe, your blade magically could have slipped through his fingers.

How wrong you were.

As soon as steel touched bone, Reiner backhanded you into another dimension and right into the awaiting mouth of the abnormal. Sticky saliva seeped into your clothes and made the cloth cling to you like an uncomfortably hot glue.

Panic began grinding down on your being. You looked downward; your legs were parted by teeth larger than your face, their blunt edges digging into the backs of your thighs. You looked to your sides; gummy cheek muscles pulsated with moist anticipation. And then you looked in front of you; Reiner’s form faded into the distance as he charged to counterattack Eren and the other scouts.

It felt surreal as the reddened walls of the titan’s mouth began enclosing around you. Like this was just one of your nightmares and that you would wake up as soon as those jaws made your legs go numb. The stench of rotting flesh and the daze of the wind being knocked out of you almost made you fade into a trance as the world disappeared from visibility.

Almost .

Stark reality washed over you as you felt the monster’s undulating tongue flick over your blade. You exhaled shakily as your left hand weakly squeezed the handle of your sword. That one remaining blade meant you still had a chance.

With a groan, your right hand pressed off of the wet muscle. With the minuscule strength you had left you slid between the jagged edges of teeth and out of the reeking cavern. You were prepared to let yourself plummet to the ground when no such fate came.

As you surrendered yourself to gravity, that searing storm that you held to your breast so intimate snuggled into your side. Only this time it was as if you were reliving the fresh wound all over again.

The abnormal’s bite dug haphazardly into your side, squelching flesh and bone effortlessly. You croaked out a tormented cry that rang against deaf ears as the titan wove a morbid patchwork of agony into you.

Your surroundings blew in and out of focus as hot breath filled the newly created holes in your body. Your fingers twitched for the mechanism on your ODM gear. You were overheating with terror and exhaustion when you finally flipped the trigger. Your wires jetted out of your organic prison and embedded themselves in the nearest pine.

No amount of deep inhales or adrenaline could have prepared you for the most excruciating pain you had ever experienced. Your eyes squeezed shut as you yanked yourself to your wires. The horrific tearing of your skin sounded as raw and guttural as attempting to rip a piece of cloth in two. The hot breath on your exposed tissue was like a volcanic iron that Ymir herself had branded you with as you ripped yourself from its mouth.

You snapped like a rubber band and scrambled limply to land with your feet against the trunk of the tree. You breathed raggedly, lolling your head upwards to view your assailant. It licked its lips, tasting your blood as it watched you with vacant eyes.

The eyes.  

With a bellowing war cry you hurdled your blade at the creature’s eye. It released confused moan as it was instantly blinded, the whites blooming red. You aimed your wires at its cheeks, flying from the tree and landing on its face just as you started losing feeling in your left leg.

You dragged yourself up its nose and yanked your blade from its resting place. With another aggravated scream you slid over its shoulder and jammed your weapon, albeit clumsily, into its nape. The titan flailed wildly as it perished; limbs curling inward and spasming. It jolted to its knees as the life left its contorting body. You rode it all way the down until its head bombarded into the ground, creating an aftershock of force that irritated your gaping wound.

You screeched as you tumbled down its shoulder and collapsed into the grass. You twitched like a poisoned insect as you waited for the ivory flames to burn the rest of your body into ash. Your friends were too far away to see you or sense your peril as they buzzed around Reiner and Bertholdt like wasps defending their nest.

You laid there, feeling the feeling leaving your limbs until all was quiet. Until the heavy footfalls of Reiner had disappeared into the horizon and the birds had returned to the forest canopy. It could have been minutes or hours. In your delirium time no longer was a fathomable concept. The only thing that was tangible was the emptiness of harboring a cavity that leaked a steady stream of lifeforce onto the ground.

Did you help? Maybe just maybe for that moment you helped buy some time for Eren and the others.

That’s all you could hope for as you coughed.

You coughed.

[maxparkhurst]

Whispers

Breathe.  

Saliva pooled behind Max’s tongue. Honey-suckle sweet, it stained her throat and drowned the worry nipping at her stomach. A hum touched her lips when the last of the powder dissolved. Eyes closed and hidden under the crook of her arm, she allowed the weight of the sky to press on her chest.

Breathe.

She drifted through a murky haze fringed with blended edges and distant memories. The haze was somewhere above the sounds. Sound was west of the moon and south of her eyes. A bell tolled in the distance. Gulls squalled over the horizon. Drunken revelry echoed from the streets. For a stretch of time, those sounds were the only tether to reality. She clung to them like a child to their blanket as she floated further and further into the dark.

Breathe.

But sometimes the sounds faded, and then there was only the haze. Warm, euphoric haze that coated her skin in goosed flesh. Laughter bubbled in her chest as she peeked her eyes open. Stars filled the sky like smatterings of paint on an endless canvas. It was the most beautiful art, alive with raw energy that promised life in the darkness, and warmth in the cold. She smiled in spite of the muted fear. A smile dripping with bliss and sweetness; one that managed to touch her eyes as she searched the vastness. It brought a sense of humility, peering into an eternal space, that begot gratitude for the coziness of home. 

Breathe.

She couldn’t help but wonder…

Why did she start fearing the sky...

…When it was so beautiful?

Slowly, Max unfurled her fingers from the tether. Allowed the sounds to be smothered by the haze. She felt weightless, lighter than air and brighter than the stars, as she took a breath in and reached for the sky. A flame that woke from its slumber. And as she emerged from her callused hearth, she had a thought which existed apart from herself. This thought was of the closed door to her father’s study. Papa retired to his study every evening upon returning from the forge. Brought with him the lingering scent of soot and ash that stained everything he passed. He closed the door behind him, leaving only the blackened taste to comfort Max in the evening’s shadows. She lurked outside his door when she knew him to be half a bottle deep into the evening. Huddled in the light that slithered from under the crevice. She felt small beneath the dark. No more than a child searching for comfort of knowing why things were the way they are…

Y̸o̶'̴r̸o̶o̸ ̵w̵a̶e̷'̴l̷l̴l̵l̷ ̸b̴e̷'̵r̸ ̷w̶o̵'̸r̷r̸e̴s̴a̶v̵a̷e̶'̴p̵p̷e̷'̷r̶d̵

Max pressed her cheek into the floorboards. Something spoke beneath them. She could feel them vibrate somehow, whispering in a way ears cannot hear. Tender, soft, and almost friendly it spoke. 

Y̸o̶'̴r̸o̶o̸ ̵w̵a̶e̷'̴l̷l̴l̵l̷ ̸b̴e̷'̵r̸ ̷w̶o̵'̸r̷r̸e̴s̴a̶v̵a̷e̶'̴p̵p̷e̷'̷r̶̵

She smiled. The wood smothered its voice. But she was practiced in listening. She coaxed their words from the cracks and imperfections. Beckoned the little shadows to speak louder. 

Y̸o̶'̴r̸o̶o̸ ̵w̵a̶e̷'̴l̷l̴l̵l̷ ̸b̴e̷'̵r̸ ̷w̶o̵'̸r̷r̸e̴s̴a̶v̵a̷e̶'̴p̵p̷e̷'̷r̶d̵

The promise of knowledge… 

...And she wished to know...

So. Many. Things...

The light under Papa’s door flickered and crept away from the whispering floorboards, chased by eddying shadows. They rolled from the crevices and embraced Max in their warmth, whispering secrets in her ear. She’s heard this voice somewhere before... A place beyond this murky fog. 

But the whispers faded, 

And then there was only the haze. 

Breathe. 

Max receded back into her wick with a sputtering breath that escaped as an airless cackle. She let her outstretched hand drop to the shingles. Such funny shadows that coalesced in the sky. She traced their brushstrokes through the stars, an absent grin tugging at her lips, and let herself drift through their infinite spiral. The lingering bliss in the back of her throat made them all the sweeter. And somewhere, in the distance, the clock bell tolled. 

She walked a path not marked by map or sign, but by another’s nightly ritual. The nauseating chill still danced down her arm from the charcoal-etched rune on her palm. It reminded Max of Mary’s warning: be a river stone and let the whispers run over you. In the center of the sphere was a cold, dull marble. It grew colder the closer she drew to the Harbor’s Edge. 

There were marks in the stones that belied a certain desperation. As if something were clawing for purchase- eager to stay. The planter above them was discolored. A portion of it aged and weathered for decades while the rest remained pristine with budding ferns growing from the decrepit husks of their predecessors. The air was icy like the breath of specters. And the sphere responded in kind, drawing closer to the echo which lingered. 

Max reached out to the sphere’s beckon. Opened herself to the dark and the quiet for answers... 

And in their depths she heard the whispers. 

Y̸o̶'̴r̸o̶o̸ ̵w̵a̶e̷'̴l̷l̴l̵l̷ ̸b̴e̷'̵r̸ ̷w̶o̵'̸r̷r̸e̴s̴a̶v̵a̷e̶'̴p̵p̷e̷'̷r̶d̵ 

Ever quiet. Ever tempting. Ever fading... 

And then there was the sound of the window’s latch. 

Breathe.

Max picked her head up in time to catch Augustine clamber onto the roof. She watched in silence as he shuffled along the shingles and paused just short of her head. Concern shone in his eyes. They glimmered like the pin-pricks of light strewn across the ebon sky. They were the same as her eyes. The same as their father’s. 

Papa’s eyes were sad. Guilt riddled. Hidden behind the door- 

I̷ ̶c̸a̸n̴ ̵t̵e̸a̸c̵h̸ ̴y̴o̵u̶ ̸s̷o̵ ̷m̶u̵c̵h̷

“Max?”

Breathe. 

A tender grin curled at the edge of her lips as she mused, “Augustine.” 

Augustine settled next to Max. Curled his legs to his chin and rested his chin on top. From the corner of his eyes, he peered at her with an air of skepticism. “Are you alright?” 

Max took a deep breathe. And in that interim, she quietly wove her fingers through the tether. Searched the air for the evening’s sounds and clung to them. No longer a flame reaching for the sky or a shadow swirling through the dark, she forced herself to stay grounded in reality. With that came the crushing weight of the sky. “I am well.” 

One hand stuffed the velvet pouch further in her pocket while the other beckoned for her brother’s hand. Her smile brightened when he obliged her request. “How are you feeling?”

Augustine kept his gaze trained on the neighboring buildings. His visage calm, almost stoic save for the twitch of his nose. “I'm...Fine.” 

“Just fine?” 

Another twitch - “Yes.” - and then a pause. He slowly turned his attention onto Max, lips curling in a disquiet smile. “No. I’m...” - a sigh escaped- “Worried. About you.” 

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “What is there to be worried about? I am here and I am well.” She brought her other hand up and tapped him on the nose. “And you are here and you are well. There isn’t much more we can ask for, now is there?” 

He swatted her hand away, and though he tried to ignore it an ounce of relief crept on his lips. His grin was short lived as melancholy settled in his eyes. “You say you’re fine, but I don’t always think you mean it...” 

“Are you calling me a liar?” 

His silence answered her question. 

Max heaved a sigh. “I see...” she murmured, draping an arm over her eyes, “Like brother, like sister then. You aren’t honest either.” She released his hand, brought her own to rest on the shingles. “I want you to know this and know it as truth: So long as you are alive and well, I shall find reason to be fine.” From under the folds of her shirt, she stole a glance at him. “It’s the promise I made to both Papa and you.” 

Augustine nodded thoughtfully. “And what if,” he began after a moment, “I am only well when you are fine?”

“Then we’re at an impasse,” she mused.

He shot her a rueful look accented by a sly smirk. “As it should be then. As it is written?” 

Max chuffed. She threw herself upright and playfully shoved him. Unfiltered laughter boiled over from them both as they leaned into each other. “Yes,” -she turned her gaze to the shadows below- “As it is written.” 

And as the tension between them settled, Max found an inkling of melancholy conjured by the sobering idea of losing a sibling. By knowing that someone out there wasn’t able to lean on their sister for comfort.

[Mentions: @foxglovethings​ @longveil​]

[jossambird]

Apple picking <3

Prompt came from a special someone on here! <3

Axel watched as you walked alongside Oscar, hands barely touching as he leaned closer to whisper in your ear, the wind blowing your hair softly off your shoulders. It was cold today, but you insisted on coming here, saying they would enjoy it.

One thing was sure above all else; every man you had passed by with Oscar turned, looking at your attire and reminding Axel just how much you stuck out, your radiance shining through. The eldest Swede looked behind him, and met Otto’s gaze, his brother’s cheeks turning red as he quickly looked away, embarrassed of the fact he had just been caught staring at your behind from afar, hands digging deeper in his coat pockets.

Axel chuckled at Otto’s embarrassment, and continued to  follow you up the hill, smiling as he was greeted with another wonderful view, apart from your cute behind.

It was beautiful, the green and yellow leaves of the trees rustling in the wind, apples shining upon branches, ready to be picked. Ladders were stationed under some trees, allowing children or shorter people to reach the highest peaks of the trees.

They were already quite short for Apple trees, but Axel figured he would keep his mouth shut as he watched you jump up and down, excitement showing on your lovely visage.

“Oh my god, its been so long since Ive come here, thank you guys!” You exclaimed as you jumped into Oscar’s open arms, their younger brother laughing as he tried to hold the Orchard bag in his hand before quickly pushing you towards the trees to start.

Otto walked up beside his eldest brother, silent as they both watched you and Oscar run, criss-crossing between the trees and laughing, peoples gaze following the both of you.

Axel didn’t know what he found funnier, Otto’s visible brooding at their brothers antics with you, or the way Oscar kept smirking their way, trying to get a rise out of the taller man.

“Are you guys coming?” You called from between trees, your voice a sweet melody as Axel smiled, nudging Otto to come along.

He held an apple in his hand, looking it over for any imperfection before putting it in the bag at his feet.

He supposed it could be much worse as he heard you speak to Axel about the different types of apples in the Orchard, instead of asking him where Oscar had gone.

Otto sighed again for what felt like the 100th time, reaching for other apple-

“Y/N needs help.” Oscar said beside him, making Otto jump out of his skin.

Oscar squinted, confused at his brother’s surprise but figured he would let it lie for now, repeating himself instead.

“Otto, Y/N needs help.”

His brother simply sighed, resuming his search for another perfect apple without casting him another glance.

“Why don’t you go help her then?” Otto said, annoyed at how cold he sounded towards his brother, regretting his tone-

Oscar’s shit-eating grin made Otto realize he now didn’t regret his tone, frowning down at him.

“She asked me to come find you to help her.” Oscar replied casually, glancing over his shoulder to where Otto assumed you were waiting for him...

“Is this another of your pranks Oscar?” He said as he turned fully towards his brother, accepting the empty bag his brother passed him, watching as Oscar backed up slowly.

Empty? You hadn’t picked any apples in the last hour that you had been with Oscar?

“On her heart.” Oscar replied with seriousness before turning and walking away, most likely to join Axel. Otto tried to reflect on Oscar’s strange demeanor but stopped, hearing the faint sound of your voice, your tone seeming... panicked.

It didn’t take long for Otto to find what was wrong as he weaved through the trees, following the sound of your voice before finally catching sight of...  the sight almost made him growl.

A man stood before you, arm in the air against a branch as he seemed to be speaking to you, inching closer with every second.

“You look absolutely divine madam!” The man either didn’t care or didn’t notice your discomfort of his proximity as he kept leaning closer, a lecherous grin on his lips.

“I would simply be delighted to help you pick those apples up there... All I ask is for you to sit on my shoulders and let me pleasure yo-“

He didn’t have time to finish his phrase as Otto pulled him back roughly and away from you, eyes wide as he looked up at the Scandinavian man.

Words failed him as he freed himself of Otto’s hold, running away like a coward.

“Otto- thank you so much, he- god.” You whispered, Otto’s eyes following your movements as you tried to replace your disheveled shirt, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed how it practically hung off your shoulder.

He had touched you. That bastard had touched you inappropriately, that's what he had heard before, the panic in your voice.

Otto wondered for a moment if it was the sweet scent of the Apple trees in the wind, or yours that pulled him in, caging you against the tree trunk just as the man had moments ago, the soft noise that escaped your lips making him grow bolder.

“He touched you?” He asked lowly, voice deep as his eyes bore into yours, analyzing each minor change in your posture and features, loving the way you started to bite your lip-

“Yes.” You whispered back, entranced by Otto’s sudden dominant demeanor, his wide frame most likely hiding you from any possible  wandering eyes.

“Where?” Otto said, watching as your hands slowly rose from the tree trunk and pulled your shirt collar down, revealing your collarbone and soft skin.

He felt a shuddering breath escape him as he looked at your exposed skin, telling himself he shouldn’t be this affected by a simple patch of skin.. but no, it was your skin, your collarbone exposed to him, your body pressed against the tree, caged by his arms and form, the forgotten Orchards bags around the both of you. Were you staying here, caged by his body out of politeness? Because he was Oscar’s brother, and you, his brother’s friend?

Too often had he wondered what your skin would feel like under his fingers, too often did he wake up in the morning, the feeling of your ghostly fingers against his own skin, remnants of his dirty dreams haunting him during the days.

Blue-gray eyes rose back to your own, surprised at the hardly concealed blush on your cheeks, watching him like a hawk would its prey, waiting.

His hand lifted, thumb running gently against your collarbone, his greedy eyes taking in how you bite your inner cheek, trying to seem unaffected but failing, just like he was, fingertips coming to rest on your naked shoulder. They rose softly, trailing against the strap of your bra, making their way up your neck with a reverent touch, careful but present, finally reaching your jaw.

Otto watched you swallow as his thumb grazed your bottom lip, eyes flickering between your lovely lips and your eyes, waiting.

“He tried to kiss me..” you whispered into the air, leaves rustling around you as Otto inhaled, seeming to grow larger as he leaned in more, towering over your form.

Otto tried not to think back at the man’s words, who had been trying to do much more then just kiss you, from the sound of it. He wondered if you would have accepted, had the man been someone else, maybe Oscar, or Axel.

Would you let them push you up a tree trunk and have their way with you, for any wandering eye to see? Would you let them place you upon a branch and pull your legs apart, pleasuring you with their tongues?

He tried not to think about it, told himself he was winning the fight in his mind until he felt himself lean down, watching with adoration how your eyes closed, leaning up to meet his rough lips in a chaste touch.

This close, Otto could hear your breathing, ragged and short, coming out in puffs against his lips. He leaned down again, this time with a bit more force, kissing you fully. The way your arms wound around his neck was divine, pulling him closer to you, closer to your body.

He was almost devastated as you pulled away, away from his lips, looking up at him with mirth.

“He touched between my thighs as well...” you whispered, your gaze sultry and naughty, and it finally dawned on Otto what you were doing now, your dirty words striking him with  lust.

You were giving him reasons to touch you, little white lies as to where the man had touched so that he would touch you there.

Otto smirked as he pulled your arms away from his neck, and held your hands softly in his, bringing them to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

“Are you sure?” He simply whispered, your wide grin too telling as you continued to hold his hands.

“Well? Did you find some good apples, you two?” Axel said outloud as he approached, walking unusually slower then his usual gait. Otto smiled, and helped you stand better, watching you as you held a firm grip on one of his hands, your other reaching down for the Orchard bag he had discarded.

“I found something else instead!” You called back with pride, looking up at Otto with joy.

Axel hummed and chuckled, the sound choking in his throat abruptly as Oscar roughly pushed past him, eager to see if his plan had worked.

“Oscar...” Axel threatened, pointing at the younger sibling who only smirked, kicking a poor apple that laid on the ground at him before running away.

[tinakennrd]

;; tag dump #1