#I YEARN FOR THE WATERS (lying face down in a puddle)

[hana-bobo-finch]

“this is a character who, intentionally, plays a very small role and could feasibly be removed from the story with no consequences,” I announce as I continue to give said character traits and motivations and—

[tetzoro]

FORGIVE ME FATHER — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. sir crocodile !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : devious visions have haunted your dreams every night and chase off your sleep. it’s finally time you crack and beg your priest to save you.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, innocent reader, corruption, coercion, virginity loss (reader), power play dynamic, minor alcohol consumption, sacrilegious themes, religious themes, fingering, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, crocodile is manipulative and perverted throughout it all — WC : 2.6k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : mind the tags ! i don’t know where this came from . if i forgot any tags please send me an ask and let me know ! enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

out of your house and into the darkness of night, you run towards the only place that’s ever brought you sanctuary. the wind whips against your face, a storm raging on – everything that should be a sign to stay indoors gets tossed aside as your mind floods with visions. the ones that haunt your dreams every night and leave you lying in a cold sweat, yearning for something you’ve never had.

not even the harsh sting of the cold water kicking up against your bare legs can break you away from your forbidden longing. narrowly dodging each puddle only to stumble like a fawn learning how to walk on a smooth sheet of ice.

the rain clings to your white nightgown, the coat you hastily threw on already soaked through as you see the glimmer of light in the distance – the lantern above the church door still burning despite it all. you just prayed he was still awake.

you burst through the doors in a frenzy of distressed momentum, eyes scanning the space as you see father crocodile standing by one of the altars, lighting his candles. the soft glow that kisses the air around him is the beacon of hope you had been searching for. his attention quickly turns towards you as a bolt of lightning strikes nearby, illuminating you in its sharp light.

you, the poor, shivering little thing that looked just as lost as the day you first came to him.

“father.” you rasp out, your hand pushing the door closed behind you before the wind takes it — slamming it shut, the noise dissolving into a boom of thunder. “father, please help me.”

“what is it, my child?” his voice was deep, somewhat slurred as he made his way over, towering over your presence — his height as otherworldly as ever.

“the visions, they came back.” you all but whimper, shame dousing you and making you colder than the rain that was seeping through your bones. “but i’m scared they’re getting worse.”

“i see.” always curt with his words, a glint of something all knowing twinkles in his deep purple eyes. the warm, welcoming palm of his hand rests on your frigid shoulder, thumb smoothing a circle over the sliver of exposed skin as your coat slides down. “let’s get you comfortable before we discuss what you’ve been seeing.”

with a small nod, he leads you toward the center of the church, an all too familiar place that already has your nerves calming down. but the fire that was still coursing through you was hotter than ever.

crocodile smoothly takes off your drenched coat, opting to remove the black coat he normally wears as well, prepping it to cover you. but his eyes trail over your figure before he does, the way your nightgown was almost transparent against your skin, pert nipples pushing against the fabric.

the moment his jacket wraps around your shoulders, your senses are invaded by his scent. something smokey, a deep musk wraps around you in a sinful delight that only fuels the fire deep in your gut.

slowly, crocodile eases you down on the pew in the front row, the harsh wood was as sturdy as ever — a welcomed feeling as you sit down. as you do, you hear something clink against the sea coming from the pocket of his coat. curiously, you reach down and feel something metallic, pulling it out as crocodile sits next to you – sturdy thighs brushing against yours.

“what’s this?” it barely fits in the palm of your hand, fingers not able to wrap around it. it jostles, liquid clearly residing in it.

“it’s alcohol.” he answers, hand wrapping around yours and the flask. “it’s often used as medicine to clean wounds. sometimes we must drink it in order to cleanse our bodies. would you like some?”

“is that what you’d advise?” you look up at him, eyes wide with a shaky hand, trembling under his intensity, foreign feelings swirling throughout you and drowning you under his gaze.

“it is.” he gently takes the flask out of your hand, twirling the top off. “open your mouth.”

you do as he says — you always do. a devotee that would never go against his counsel. hanging onto every word he says, everything he asks, without question. crocodile could barely hide the smug smirk that tried to crack through his stoic priest mask.

the liquid burns as it runs down your throat, trying to gulp it down quickly as more rushes down. you splutter in protest, the sensation filling your nostrils. swiftly, crocodile pulls back, tucking the flask away as his thumb reaches up to wipe the liquor that spilled down the side of your mouth.

“now,” your priest licks his thumb, savoring the taste for a moment. “tell me what happened.”

“oh,” you curl into yourself a bit, embarrassment prickling at your cheeks. “it was a dream, the kind you warned me about before.”

“you must give me every detail otherwise i will not be able to help you.” his voice is stern, eyes crinkling at the edges with a distant softness he’s started to show around you.

“you were the object of my dream, father. the things you were doing to me—“ you stop, looking away in utter shame. crocodile had been so good to you, teaching you how to expel sin from your body by being baptized in his office, teaching you ways to resist temptation by giving into it only a little — and only to him. admitting to this dream would mean you failed, his guidance going to waste.

“go on.” he pushes, heavy palm falling to your thigh and rubbing comforting circles against your still frigid skin.

“i was laying down and your —” your eyes flit to his lower section before you swallow down the rest of your shame along with the burn that lingered in your throat. “your cock was inside of me. but this time, it wasn’t in my mouth.”

“and where was it?” if at all possible, he grew closer, the faint scent of alcohol on his breath fanning over your face. “show me.”

“it was here.” your voice trembles, hand covering the one he had on your thigh and slowly moving it up towards your core, under your thin nightgown — to the place that was burning for him, the dream igniting it into flames that you didn’t know how to put out. “right here.”

“i see.” he nods, eyes glued to the spot between your legs. his knuckle runs along your underwear, your essence soaking through the fabric as he glides along, causing your body to shudder. “and how did you feel?”

“well i-“ your sentence is cut off by a startled moan, his finger moving under the fabric and pressing against your slick folds. everything felt so wet down there, a direct juxtaposition to the flames that licked at your core, edging you to some place you had only dreamed about.

“you?” his expression is almost bored, keeping a straight face as he presses his finger into you. you quickly grab his wrist, trying to hold it steady as he keeps going, fueling the wildfire that lied within your soul.

“feels good.” you manage to squeak out. “it felt good in my dream too.”

“did it?” he presses. so many questions, so little answers. the only thing on your mind was the pleasure building in your abdomen, the foreign feeling lulling you higher.

crocodiles ministrations were precise, laced with experience and forbidden knowledge that had you itching to learn more. it’s like he could read your mind, receiving a divine message from god himself as he gives you what you’ve been praying for.

“mhm.” you gasp as another finger slips into you, “you were teaching me things, things that i haven’t — ah — learned yet. things i’m not supposed to.”

“curious little thing, aren’t you?” crocodile practically purrs, the squelch of your cunt growing louder, combating the rain that still fell along the rooftop.

for just a moment, you let yourself get lost in it all. the way the storm persisted overhead, crocodiles deep and raspy voice curling around your ear. two fingers rubbing along your walls, stretching you in a fashion that you’ve never known, feeling a strange level of fullness, new sensations rippling along your body with each thrust of his fingers.

his pace never falters, languidly pushing his digits in and out as he watches you intently, the way your eyes periodically squeeze shut in pleasure, lips parted as you breathe out a sigh of his name.

“can you help me?” your other hand grips the edge of the pew, hips jutting toward his finger and chasing the steady rhythm he was feeding you. “please?”

“normally, i’d advise against following these visions. but since you’re with with me, one of god's most trusted disciples, we can find a suitable alternative.” he feeds you lies that are tainted with an ounce of truth, just enough to have you nod along as you writhe around in your spot, pleasure hazing your mind.

“whatever you think i should do i’ll — mmm — i’ll do it.” your words spill into moans and crocodile finds himself getting drunk off of them.

“these urges are normal, but only when you are wed.” he pushes as your hope diminishes.

“but i’m not married.” tears brim along your lash line, frustration boiling from hanging on an edge that led to the unknown and the fact that you had no husband to fall back on.

“i know, but i will fill in for your husbands place, god will allow me to help you.” he decides out loud, even though his mind had been made up the moment you walked through those doors. crocodiles digits quicken their thrusts, causing you to yelp out. “all you need to do is surrender.”

with that, a blinding light that must’ve been the heavens themself paint your vision. the blood rushing through your ears are merely the angels singing to you, a soft lullaby that helps you float back down to earth.

your body had never felt so relaxed, so pliant. crocodiles fingers slip from between your legs and into his mouth, cleaning up the essence that coated them with a satisfied groan. he lets you curl into him for a moment as he picks you up, bringing you over to the altar that stood proudly in the center of his sanctuary.

thunder booms overhead, hiding the normally distinct click of a man undoing his belt. crocodile’s movements are practiced, but hasty. you’re still coming down from your high when he tugs your underwear down your legs, pressing the tip of his cock against your folds.

“before we begin,” your priest drags you closer towards the edge, legs dangling off the stone. “i must warn you that it may hurt, but this is the harsh way you must repent for your sins. do you understand?”

“yes, father.” you nod, his cock twitching against your clit, a burst of euphoria jolting through your body. “please save me.”

just like in your dream, crocodile looms over you. rough hands prodding along your body as they trail down your side, tearing at your dress as they move. he grips your hips as he starts to slide in, splitting heaven and hell apart as he pushes forward.

the pain is more than you expected — especially compared to your dream, but you bare it. letting yourself repent for the sin.

it’s agonizing though, how slowly he goes, breaking you apart so he can pull you back together in god's will. fraying at the seams, you’re sure to lose your mind as everything feels red hot to the touch — the flames of hell licking along your back as you dance along the lines of purgatory, praying with all your might that crocodile will bring you back to the heights of heaven.

“father—“ you gasp as everything clicks into place, his cock nestling deep within you, the pain subsiding as he coos down at you, murmurs of praise flowing from his lips.

“relax,” he tucks his fingers under your chin, half lidded eyes set on you and you’ve never been more desperate for a kiss in your life. “i’m here to save you now.”

crocodile’s hips pull back before snapping back into place, nudging a spot deep inside of you as he fills you back up. the pressure inside of you already threatening to snap, undergoing a rebirth that molds you to him, for him – forever bound in a way that marriage could never touch. ruined for any other man that would try to lay with you, when your cunt would only fit the shape of his cock.

his normally slicked back hair was tumbling forward out of place as his pace quickened, slivers slipping in front of his face as his focus remained on where the two of you were joined.

you mewl out, back arching as the pain subsides and euphoria starts to settle in your body. but crocodiles quick to push your back flat against the altar, keeping you locked into place as he starts to pound into you.

it was overwhelming, your mind being cleared of every thought. every virtue flown out of your head as well as every sin. just a state of contented bliss that only your priest and god could bring you.

the answer to all your prayers.

“how does it feel?” crocodiles voice was raspier than ever, a dull growl that had you clenching around him. he grunted in return, grip tightening around you as your body jiggled in place.

“so, so good!” you cry out, droplets of devotion falling down your face, you’ve never felt so whole in your life, so completely full of happiness.

crocodile doesn’t say anything in return, just shutting his eyes, cock thrusting into you sporadically, letting himself get lost in the heavenly feel of your silken walls.

the thought of your purity now tainted by his hand sends him further into his frenzy, dreaming of all the ways he could have you now, all the ways you can bend to his will and fully turn you into his own little devotee.

his balls tighten as your body gives into itself, tightening around his cock and squeezing it as you cry out his name. not gods, his.

crocodile's hips stutter before he buries himself deep within you, filling you up with all of his cum.

for a moment it's silent. the storm outside had subsided, barely pattering along the roof now as the walls are filled with your heavy breathing, a dazed look in your eyes.

“now.” he pulls out slowly, watching his cum spill out of you and along the altar. you whimper at the loss which only lets more of it fall out. “thank me.”

“thank you father.” you prop yourself up on your elbows, an earnest look on your face. crocodile watches you carefully as he tucks his cock back into his pants. “thank you for helping me absolve my sins.”

“of course.” he nods as you shakily get up, finding your footing on the wooden flooring, his cum trailing down your thigh.

you looked a mess, crocodile thinks. your nightgown in tatters, tears streaking down your face, legs trembling. absolutely devoid of purity. the innocence ripped from you and resided limply in his victorious hand.

just as he wanted.

“what happens now?” you ask, a shy look resting on your face as you avert your gaze. he chuckles, picking up the coat he had given you earlier, the one that fell off your shoulders when he took you to the altar. he wraps it back around you, the candlelight creating a halo around his head.

“you’ve been plagued by these visions for quite some time. this will only help for a while.” he frowns and dread fills you, worried that you really won’t be saved. “but worry not, every night you will come to me and we will ensure they do not come back.”

“thank you, father.” you beam up at him, unadulterated trust and hope shining at him. a sick part wonders if he can break that too, but not yet. maybe not ever, he’s not sure.

the only thing he’s sure of is that you were his now and this was only the beginning.

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

[convolutedelucidation]

Born into this cold world

Without a hand to hold

Rejected and neglected

Until my soul was sold.

I just want to cry

But I feel nothing inside

Used to feel alive

Now life is suffering.

Iniquity and injustice

Trouble and strife

My trust has been broken

I hate this hopeless life.

Broken open as a child

Was free and running wild

Stuck down from the sky

Fell down into the mire.

I spend my day’s here wandering

Pondering what could have been

Ever hoping it’ll all be over

Barely coping, comatose.

Overdose on poison

Throw reason out with caution

As I take my portion

Deep remorse grows for,

Everything I’ve done

Against the Holy one

The payout that I’ve won

Paid the price, sacrifice.

My judgment day will come

Where all will be undone

Eternal return, burning

Yearning for the son.

Turning over trees

Dropping all the leaves

Can’t believe what has become

This person I call me.

Swallowed by disease

Hollow and empty

Resigned and numb

I wish I wasn’t dumb.

I wish I could start over

Please just one more attempt

I promise I’ll do better

Yet the promise’s never kept.

Please just one more try

I’ll be crying for the rest of my life.

Drowning and depressed

Wasted all the grace

I used to feel blessed

Made everything a mess.

And I can’t face the day

I can’t face myself

Just want to look away

This life’s a lost cause.

Throw everything to waste

Disgraceful pain, my payback

Silent suffering, covered

Hidden from the intimate.

The structure has been ruptured

My heart has been crushed

The sky is falling

The world is burning

Everyone’s crazy

And I am alone

No one hears it

No one sees it

No one even believes me.

All this sin and waging war

Lying to my stolen core

Nothing inside

No one home

Everyone dies

And I will always be alone.

You don’t know me

You don’t see me

You don’t care

You wouldn’t want to be me.

Life ain’t pretty

And nothing’s sweet

Devil on my shoulder

Ever mocking me.

Please man,

We need you.

Please please please

Let me be.

Left it behind

Back of my mind

Another time

No peace I find

Everywhere

Without a care

Without the love

Our given share

All too scared

And no one cares

Hurt and despair

Spread all through the air.

We breathe it in

Can’t leave the sin

This position

We’re living in.

The world around

It breaks you down

You think you’re found

Another round.

You’re just a clown

A nothing to no one

A stillbirth

The onion

Wooden spoons and

Deflated balloons

A puddle on the ground.

Lie down

Give up

You never had a chance anyway

It was always going to be this way.

You couldn’t see it

Now you say

Hoping for a brighter day.

Hope that keeps you open

Never to deliver

And yet it keeps you coping

Something you’ll consider.

Choking on a fish bone

Washed upon the shore

Living like a vagabond

Knocking on the door.

Curl up by the fireside

Have a smoke and drink your wine

Crying on the inside

The love never came.

We never change

It always stays the same

And this is the game

That everyone’s playing.

No seasons pass

Nothing grows

Stuck inside this jail cell

Throw myself away.

Throw it in the water

Take me far away

Way beyond the border

Away from this life.

Above the pain and suffering

Lift me up above the clouds

Restore the law and order

The providence of whence I came.

I am the evidence of shame

I am the man crying

The whole world has let me down.

Haven’t smiled in a while

This face it holds a frown

This head I hold

Feels heavy and old

Don’t want to carry it around.

If I could bother

To be other

I would kill myself aloud.

My selfish self conscious self satisfying soul

Go down to the gallows

Bury myself whole.

There’s a hole in my head

And soon I’ll be dead

But who knows if they’ll be better.

I tried to repent

I tried to be gentle

But it’s better if I were never.

Never here

Never lived

Never breathed

Never existed.

Look at me thwarted, warped and twisted

A compromised life

Manipulated till I broke

Cracked the shell when I fell

And they scrambled the yolk.

It’s all been a grand joke

And I just want to elope

To those distant shores

Of nevermore

Where I can sleep in peace and smoke.

High all the time

Fine in divine

Responsibilities lifted from my shoulders

Won’t have to feel this heart grow colder

As my energy just dissipates

And my body disintegrates

Languishing, feel astray

Banished from the family

Passed down all the hurt to me

Scape goat for the masses

Stuck in thick molasses

Whipped till blood poured open

Bearing it all, hoping

Lifeless, limp and sloping

Slumped into a ball

I can’t get away from it all

Trapped inside these civil walls

Social bonds and conscience calls

I want to get away from it all

But it follows wherever I go.

No I don’t understand

And I don’t make plans

Things are out of hand

And I am damned.

Lost the grace I once was gifted

Took a bite and the world shifted

Never could ever I have known

This person into whom I’ve grown.

I didn’t have the premonition

Used to laugh at superstition

Never could I have ever imagined

The fallout from all of my actions

Could snowball and catapult

Me into this dimension

Stranded with no chance of redemption

Intercepted by an intervention

All with such good intentions

I remain here

Demented

[inomios]

Beauty behind the madness || levi ackerman x reader || PART I

Summary: “You knew that under all of his layers of grief and rage there was something worth loving; he knew that under your easy smiles and sweet words there was something dark lurking. He wanted all of you and you wanted all of him.”

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Words: 7,4K

TG: Brief allusion to soldiers’ suicides; little description of a panic attack on the seventh part (I can’t feel my face); brief talk about death and addiction; and even though I wrote it all using gender neutral terms, at some point I used the term girlfriend because partner sounded too cold for the situation.

-        If you are triggered by some content that I haven’t mentioned, please tell me so I can add it to the list and prevent it from happening again.

Author’s note: Mushing my favorite album with my comfort character is being so much fun. I’m enjoying so much this process you wouldn’t believe it. The second part will be up next Tuesday, and it’ll be the ending. Please, share, comment and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to see your reactions and impressions. As always, English is not my mother language, so sorry for the mistakes.

                                                          . . .

1. REAL LIFE

He had carved on his soul, heart and mind the words that Kenny had once told him, back when he was a scared and weak kid under his wing in the Underground, back when Kenny had caught him crying in the dead of night over his mother.

‘Boy, you won’t survive a day with that attitude. Your mother was a whore and now she’s a dead whore, get over it. You don’t have time to mop over her, crying is for people who have nothing more important to worry about.’

Kenny, for better or for worse, had taught him many lessons that became the key to his survival, advices he would never forget, and this was one of them: ‘Grieving is a waste of time.’

Every second he cried over his mother was time he could have spent granting his sorrowful existence. He couldn’t let his grief control him, because missing his mother wouldn’t make him last another day, she couldn’t protect him now that she was gone. So, for better or for worse, he let his sadness and rage aside and started focusing on what was important: survival.

Grieve is a tricky feeling, it makes you think you can control it, while it just keeps bottling up until it explodes, and you better be ready for when that happens, because you may not be able to fix the mess it’s going to leave behind.

Levi thought he had masqueraded his feelings pretty well, he tried to shrug everything off, as if nothing mattered to him, but it did, and Kenny knew it and he loved to tease him about it, he loved to press his buttons, Levi had learned that pretty soon in the relationship, but he was trying to handle his feelings, he wanted to prove Kenny he was worthy of his time, that he was strong, that  he wasn’t weak, not anymore. So, whenever Kenny tried to get a reaction out of him, he kept his mouth shut, but he couldn’t water down the fire in his grey eyes and Kenny could see it, he always could.

‘You are as worthless as your mother, maybe I should leave you in a brothel too, then you would be useful for something.’

A loud howling laughter.

Levi’s brow twitched.

‘Did your mom have time to teach you how to read or was she too busy fucking half the Underground?’

He thought he had said something hilarious. He bent over his back.

Levi had a little knife clutched in his hand.  He was starting to see red.

‘You’re as worthless as your mother.’

He was pushing him to his limits.

Levi had already passed them.

He liked to think that there was a dark abyss inside of him, a bottomless place where he could hide all his emotions and thoughts, they were useless, so he ignored them, he kept them away, far from the surface. Levi thought that he could detach from his pain, but it was a part of him, and if you stare into the abyss for too long, the abyss stares back at you. The Levi who grieved was still there, looking at him, the Levi who felt too much but said nothing wanted to get out, so he did, he escaped from the abyss and took control.

He run towards Kenny, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, knife in his hand, aiming for his heart, but Kenny was faster, quicker on his feet, he moved just in time. However, Levi still managed to scratch his shoulder, he teared his shirt and he could see the blood slipping, tainting the white fabric.

Kenny got mad. Levi had never seen him that furious. He grabbed his scrawny body and gave him the beating of his life. When he ended, Levi couldn’t even move, he was lying on the floor on a puddle of his own blood.

‘Listen kid, I don’t give a fuck about your shitty problems. You think you’re special? Guess what, you are a piece of shit, just like everyone else. Everyone here has issues, solve them or do whatever you want to do with them, but don’t you ever dare to pull a stunt like that again, because I’ll will leave you here to die, boy.’

That was the second lesson Kenny had told him: ‘Control is vital.’

He thought that by ignoring his feelings he was controlling them, but he was wrong, he realized that when those bottled emotions caused him to be bed ridden a few days.

Instead, he decided to let his feelings out in really calculated moments, he started to canalize all his rage into more productive stuff, like cleaning. He liked to think that by cleaning he had control over something, there was something cathartic to him in scrubbing floors, doing the laundry, and mopping floors. It was the Underground, it was filthy no matter how much effort he put into it, but it gave him something he could focus on, something he could use to let his frustrations out.

So, he cleaned, for his mother who deserved a better live.

For the innocent child that he once was, who had been stripped from everything he loved.

For Kenny, who he despised and was cruel and ruthless.

For all the things he had to do to survive.

He cleaned and cleaned, and he never had an outburst again. He was in control.

Looking back, he is sure that part of Kenny’s fury that day was that a kid made him bleed. You see, Kenny liked to think of himself as some kind of god, a ruler, someone who could control everybody, someone who was holding your fate between his calloused hands. And when he hurt Kenny, both of them realized two things, especially Levi, who discovered this: ‘Gods bleed to.’

Levi learnt his third lesson that day. No one could control him, the same way he couldn’t control anyone. You are the one who makes the decisions, just be sure to choose one you won’t regret. Kenny had no power over him, he wasn’t a god and if he was, Levi wouldn’t bow down to him.

Kenny learnt that Levi, that child, had a fire within he couldn’t tame, Levi wasn’t going to be a submissive, brainless follower. He had potential, he had willpower, he didn’t really need him, but the boy didn’t know it yet. So, when the moment came, he left. He had grown to care about his nephew, at least a little, but Levi was a survivor and Kenny knew he would fight with teeth and claws until the very end. Therefore, Kenny left him with the only person who could protect him: Levi himself.

When Kenny left him at his own, alone again in the Underground, he learnt his fourth lesson: ‘Love is a risk he wasn’t going to take again.’

  2. LOSERS

Stupid is next to ‘I love you.’ He was pretty fucking sure of that.

He made a bow to himself: he wasn’t going to love anyone ever again, people are bound to leave, and whenever they left, they took away a part of him, and he was already too broken for that. However, life happens, and it turns everything upside down, it doesn’t ask for consent, so his plan of never loving again was ruined sooner than he would’ve liked.

Furlan came first. He wasn’t looking for a companion, at all. A companion meant more people to care about, a distraction, and he didn’t need any of that. However, Furlan managed to convince him that he could be useful to him. Whenever he looks back, he thinks that both of them knew that Levi didn’t need anyone, he could survive on his own, he was tougher than anyone else in the Underground, but he was alone, so alone, and a part of him yearned so much for someone that he let Furlan come with him.  

Their relationship was weird at first, not sure where the boundaries of the other laid, what they could do or don’t. Furlan didn’t want to overstep and piss off Levi and Levi didn’t want to overshare with him, he didn’t want to show him his weaknesses, but at the same time he wanted to spend time with him.

He remembers that there were moments when Levi desired to say something, talk about pointless stuff, but he never did, after Kenny he was deprived of human contact that he even thought that he had lost his voice. However, as time passed them by, they fell into some type of routine, boundaries became clearer. Furlan started to get Levi, how he would never start a conversation no matter how bad he wanted; how his mind was always plotting something; how he always had an ace upon his sleeve… Furlan grew fond on him, he knew that there was a lot Levi wasn’t telling him, but from time to time he got to see a glimpse of all the man he was under his façade and layers of secrets, and he wanted to learn about him, he wanted to be his friend, he wanted to have someone to help and he wanted someone to take care of him, he wanted to stay.

On the other hand, Levi liked how Furlan seemed to know when he could talk and joke around and when he had to stay silent, it was like he understood him, Furlan was prudent and chill, thinking before acting, and he knew when to fight and when to give up. Levi started to care about him, a lot, against his better judgement, he just hoped he wouldn’t regret his choice.

Then, Isabel appeared on scene. Levi was happy enough with Furlan, he didn’t need someone else to worry about, that was more trouble, more chances to get hurt. However, he soon found he had a soft spot for the girl. She was so energetic, so bubbly, eyes always gleaming with hope, she was a ray of light in the darkest place. She was messy, reckless and wild, she balanced them out. When she asked to join them, Levi wanted to let out one of his characteristic ‘Tch’ and turn his back on her, there was no room for compassion in the Underground, but he couldn’t, he was weaker than he thought. He couldn’t leave her at her own knowing she could get herself killed, he didn’t want to be like Kenny, he wasn’t going to be like him.

The three of them became a gang, well, not just a gang, a family too. They looked after each other, they looked after Levi, just like his mother did. They were the best criminals in the Underground, and sometimes Levi felt like a god with the world at his feet. He shouldn’t have forgotten his third lesson: ‘Gods bleed too.’ He thought they were invincible, they weren’t, they were no gods, life wouldn’t bend at their will.

When Isabel and Furlan died, he didn’t even have proper bodies to bury, he just did two little makeshift graves and carved their name on the gray stone. He was the only person who would remember them, so he visited them at least once a week (he still does), mainly during his sleepless nights, when no one would ever question or notice his absence. Talking with them was the only reason why he hadn’t given up long time ago, he was their leader, he told them to always keep going, to never back down.

So, he kept going, for his mother, for Isabel and for Furlan. For the only people who ever loved him.

Maybe he didn’t really keep going, maybe he just let life pass by, what mattered was that he was alive and fighting for a purpose, he owed them that, their deaths wouldn’t be in vain.

Why did he always have to lose everything?

Why there was nothing good in store for him?

He was bound to lose to lose everything.

Stupid is next to I love you.

He was so fucking foolish.

3. TELL YOUR FRIENDS

The mission had been a carnage, a lot of fallen soldiers. He could still hear their screams and see the fear in their eyes, more images to haunt him while he was sleeping, as if they weren’t already enough. He couldn’t save anyone, he never could, he was human after all, even if some people thought about him like a god.

He had had a problem with his ODM gear during the mission, the gas cylinders were failing and wasting too much gas, so he ran out of it pretty quickly, which costed him a seven meters fall, breaking his right leg, his left arm, a few ribs and a concussion in the process. He could have died and a part of him wished he had, then, the pain would have ended. Luckily, Hange arrived just in time to help him, he still thinks that maybe they knew what was going on in his head, that he had thought about giving up right there, and that’s why as soon as they arrived back home, they sent him to the infirmary, not wanting to leave him alone. Hange still says it was because he couldn’t take proper care of his injuries by himself. They both knew he had had it way worse than that.

The infirmary was clean, and that meant a lot according to his standards, but your desk wasn’t, not at all and it was driving him crazy, if he could, he would get up and clean it himself. However, you seemed unphased by it, every day you would drop more documents on your table (but no document ever left, they just kept piling up); he had seen you drop coffee on some paper and not giving a fuck a single fuck about it; you had seven books on your table, none of them related with medicine, you just had them there because you wanted; and if you asked him what irked him the most, he would say the brush, you had a brush in your desk and it was full of hair. He couldn’t get his eyes of your desk, and if you ever noticed, you never did anything about it; or maybe you did notice and since you are a little shit, you just wanted to see how far you could go before he went feral. We will never know.

If you had been any other person, like one of the members of his squad, he would have said something way earlier, but you weren’t his subordinate, you were a medic and as far as he knew, he didn’t have the right to scold you at your own workplace.

You were competent, you just talked when necessary and you would always ask him if he wanted something, no matter how many times he had said ‘no’ and whenever Hange came to visit, you would always talk with them and ask them about their experiments and research. Hence, Hange thought you were the sweetest person ever, they had even told him that he better not be giving you any trouble.

You both had an easy routine. You would come in first hour in the morning, trying to be silent with no success at all, you were so noisy, luckily for him, he never sleeps more than four hours. You would sit on your desk and write a letter, every day, who the fuck had so many people to talk to or how many things worth telling did happen in your life? Then, you would go out to get him breakfast and you brought more documents with yourself, his breakfast always came with a cup of tea, a shitty cup of tea, but at least it wasn’t coffee or juice, he didn’t know if you were the one behind the tea, but if you were, he was glad you didn’t work on the kitchen. After breakfast, Hange would pay him a visit and talk with him, his squad would often visit him after training and Erwin once or twice a week, whenever his work let him a little free. At midday you would water the plants on the window, you had once called them ‘Asphodels’ and after watering them you disappeared, at the beginning he thought you just went to eat, later on, he would find why you did that. The rest of the day was the same, you wrote and read documents and he would either look annoyed at your desk or he would vert his gaze at the window to distract himself.

This routine changed the second week, because you asked him two questions that made him be more comfortable around you.

‘Why do you look at my desk as if it were making you sick?’

‘Tch, because is making me sick, it’s dirty as fuck.’

Okay, not the best words, but you asked, and he answered. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel better after telling you. You blushed a little and scratched your neck bashfully.

‘Sorry, I can be a little messy sometimes.’

‘I can see.’

That day you spent the evening emptying your desk, any other person would have asked you not to bother, but Levi couldn’t care, after all, his last thread of sanity depended on that desk. When you finished cleaning, you asked the second question.

‘You hate my tea, but you drink it anyways, why?’

He felt his ears getting a little red, and he just shrugged and looked away.

‘You are taking care of me, didn’t wanna be a bitch about it.’

You smiled, a smile brighter than the morning star, and for a fraction of second he forgot how the breath, but he obviously didn’t say a thing about it.

‘I promise you that tomorrow you’ll have the best tea ever.’

‘Tch, if you say so.’

He appreciated your gesture, kindness wasn’t something he was used to, it felt weird and strange to have someone to do good things just for the sake of doing them, it made him wary, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought that maybe you wanted to get something from him and that’s why you acted so nicely around him.

The next day, after writing your daily letter, at your then clean desk, you brought him breakfast with a steaming cup of tea. He drank the beverage under your expecting gaze and to his surprise it was nice, not the best tea ever made, but definitely not the worst.

‘It tastes better.’

‘Thanks, this time I followed the recipe.’ You admitted proudly.

‘How the fuck were you even making tea before?’

‘Instinct?’

He looked at you astonished, how come you were a doctor, but you couldn’t follow a three-step recipe? At that moment he thought his health was in the hands of dumbest medic in the area, however, he didn’t really care, well, at least not as much as he would have expected. You had something, an aura around your persona, that was soothing and endearing, rather than infuriating.

At the crack of dusk on that same day, he was the one who asked a question.

‘Who are you always writing?’

For a moment he swears he saw your happy demeanor quivering, as if he had opened a cage that should have remained closed, but you quickly fixed, the funny glint coming back at your eyes as fast as it had left. It was in that moment when he knew that you weren’t as shallow as he may have deemed you to be.

‘I’m just telling my friends about this annoying patient I have. Do you know he made me clean my office desk?’

Your voice was laced with amusement, you were trying to divert his attention to another topic, and he knew, but he was no one to press you about it.

‘Well, as soon as I’m free, I’m telling my friends about how my medic is a fucking shitshow.’ Too blunt, but you brushed it off.

‘They sound like a nightmare.’

‘They are.’

You smiled, yet again as blinding as the sun.

He didn’t smile, he didn’t even grimace, his face was as stoic as always, but for a split of second, a smile nearly slipped in.

To his surprise, he actually talked about you to his friends. When he had the medical lease, the first thing he did was visit Isabel and Furlan’s impromptu graves and talk about you. It wasn’t a lot, he just mentioned you a few times. It didn’t mean a thing, and at the same time, it meant everything.

 4. OFTEN

It didn’t mean a thing.

Not a single thing.

It was unimportant.

He was like that with everyone.

Except he wasn’t and he knew it.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He would always find himself at your door, not because he was sick or harmed, he just felt the need to see you. He didn’t even talk with you that much, he wasn’t good at opening up or even small talk. He was foul-mouthed, snarky and his words could cut deeper than a knife. You were soft, kind, funny and there weren’t uncomfortable silences with you, your presence was comforting. Levi didn’t get why he felt that way about you, he barely knew you, but you had something that drew him in, maybe it was the normalcy you brought him. You were a doctor, you healed people, you tended their injuries; you hadn’t seen the titans, you hadn’t seen comrades die at their merciless hands, you didn’t know what was outside the walls and he liked that. You were an escape. It was as if his life was only centered around Titans and his existence had no other point but to kill or think about to kill Titans: Hange were always babbling about Titans; his paperwork was always a painful reminder of fallen mates; Erwin was always tracing missions and plans; and the whole point of his squad was training to defeat those beasts. He never had a break, but visiting you felt like it.

He knocked at your door and it opened, you were at your desk, which was an unorganized mess then again, humming some song he didn’t know while you were reading some medical reports. And the asphodels in the window looked beautiful as always.

‘Hi, Levi.’ You looked up and gave him a smile.

Your smiles.

Oh man, he took them in like a dehydrated man would savor the first droplets of rain.

He just nodded as a salute and walked towards the window to see the asphodels.

‘Why asphodels?’ he asked, you loved those flowers, and they weren’t necessary the most beautiful.

To him you were more like yellow lilies, he had read somewhere that yellow lilies meant joy and happiness. They always brought a simile to one’s face because they are the true depiction of the sun, just like you were.

‘I don’t know, they are special’ you said with a small voice, the same haunted look in your eyes, the same that appeared when he asked about your letters.

‘I guess they are.’

A comfortable silence fell in the room. He was getting used to these havens of peace.

That night at dinner, he was sitting next to Erwin, Hange in front of him, looking at him quizzically.

‘What’s going between you and y/n? You’re always at their place.’ They ask.

‘Tch, nothing, I just visit them often.’

Lies

‘So, there is no ulterior motive, like, I don’t know, our Short king having a crush?’ Levi sometimes forgot how punchable Hange’s face was.

‘No.’

More lies.

Something was going on, they both knew, but he was too scared to think about what it was.

 5. THE HILLS

Another fight. More deaths. What was the point of it? He felt like he was fighting for a pointless cause, the more deaths, the less they knew. He would have to send more letters to the families, telling them that their sons and daughters fought bravely until their last breath and sacrificed their lives for the sake of humanity. However, broken families would come to him and ask him if it was worth it, if the death of their children, cousins, brothers and parents brought them answers, if their deaths meant that humanity was closer to taste the freedom they longed for. He had always said that no death was in vain, but he was starting to question that.

He had barely seen you after the mission, he retreated to his quarters, drowning himself in reports and regrets, if he had been better, he could have saved more lives, but he wasn’t enough, he was no hero, he was a human. He had been fighting his whole life and he just wanted it to stop, he wanted peace and tranquility, not more deaths at his shoulders, no more ghosts to haunt him at the end of the day.

He never slept, at least not for more than a few hours. However, after a mission he didn’t sleep at all, the images of his comrades’ deaths still fresh on his mind, their screams still piercing his ears, his sanity vanished a little bit more every time he tried to close his eyes, so he just laid awake looking at the roof, thinking about all the things he could have done to save them, repeating their names as if he was asking for their forgiveness.

Sometimes it all got too much, and he needed to walk to clear his mind, there were nights when he walked for hours with no direction at all, but that night he did have a direction: your office. He didn’t really know why he was doing it, but he was too tired to turn back and ask himself why you. He thought that you would probably be asleep, but to his surprise there was a dim light coming from your office, so he knocked, just like all of those times before, and your soft voice told him to come in.

He had never seen you so disheveled and tired, dark bags under your eyes, traces of tears on your face and bloodshot eyes. He also noticed four new asphodels on your desk. He looked at them and then he looked at you. He wanted to ask, but he couldn’t, so you spoke.

‘My regrets follow you to the grave.’ He barely heard you.

‘What?’

‘That’s what asphodels mean, you asked me about them once, you remember?’

He nodded, that’s all he could do.

‘I couldn’t save them, I tried, but I wasn’t good enough.’ You broke down to tears.

He wasn’t good at processing his own emotions, let alone other people’s. What was he supposed to do? He knew that people hugged to show support, but as he would say, he was ‘emotionally constipated’, so he just stayed there, looking at you.

Do something.

Do something.

Do something.

But he remained stiff, it was like watching the scene happen in third person.

‘I’m sorry, I know this is making you uncomfortable, it’s just that it’s been a long day.’

‘It’s been a long day for me to.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘You told me that asphodels mean ‘my regrets follow you to the grave’, that’s why you have them? Because you feel guilty?’

‘I plant one for every soldier that dies on my watch.’ That was the first time you opened up with him.

‘I keep the badges of their uniforms.’ That was the first time he opened up with you.

Right then everything shifted.

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ He knew those feelings, the remorse and the guilt, he was so painfully familiar with them that they had become a part of his being.

‘It wasn’t your fault either, Levi.’

It wasn’t your fault either.

It wasn’t your fault either.

It wasn’t your fault either.

Your words echoed in his mind like a drum and for a moment he believed them.

You came closer and you wrapped your arms around him, he tried to respond, embracing you in strangely, you laughed at his antics and in that moment, he wanted to disappear. You smiled and you readjusted his arms around your waist. He brought you closer, slowly, not wanting to scare you away and break the moment. You laid your head in his chest, right above his heart, and he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart beating wildly. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin and your smell intoxicating him. For a moment he felt like home, even though he didn’t understand what ‘being home’ meant, but it had to be very similar to that: comforting, reassuring, peaceful, safe.

That night, he spent what felt like hours holding you, until you had to part separate ways, the only witnesses were the asphodels and the hills at the distance.

  6. ACQUAINTED

What are we?

Levi couldn’t stop asking himself that question.

Friends didn’t have what you two had. Maybe he wasn’t the most amicable person, but he had had some friends in his life: he once had Isabel and Furlan when he was younger, and now he had Hange and Erwin, and maybe he could even consider his squad friends. And none of what he felt for them was like what he felt for you.

He tried to make sense of his thoughts by writing them, but words weren’t his forte and he just ended more and more confused.

You were nice.

You were beautiful.

You made him laugh, well, not laugh, but close enough.

You were kind.

He appreciated you, he cared for you and he wanted to protect you, but he also felt the same towards Erwin, Hange and his squad. Then, if it was the same, why it was completely different.

He kept visiting you, everything looked like it was the same, but everything had changed. It felt like the calm before the storm, as if something was about to happen, the tides were shifting, he could feel it. There were words unsaid lingering in the atmosphere and sooner or later, someone would have to utter them. But who? And if you spoke them, what would he say?

He also spent a lot of his time thinking about that too, if you happened to confess your feelings for him, if you had them, would he be able to respond them? Normal people would try, give it a shot and see what would happen, what the relationship had in store, let things flow; but he wasn’t normal, he was far from normal, he knew he wasn’t the easiest to love. He was rude, mean, a control freak, he wasn’t the one for big displays of affection, he was the last person someone would want as a partner. People yearned for epic love stories, something that could take your breath away and he wouldn’t be able to do that, he wouldn’t be able to give you the bare minimum.

Also, after all the people he had lost, he didn’t want your name to be added to that list. He preferred the uncertainty of your relationship than the possibility of losing you. If he left more people in, more people he could lose. He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were already in, but there were still boundaries between both of you.

He had also fantasized about laying himself bare in front of someone, share all of his trauma and memories, share the burden with someone, but who would love all of him? If he couldn’t even stand himself most of the days, how could he expect that someone would   do it?

‘If you were a flower, I think you would be a gladiolus.’ You would always blurt nonsense out of the blue, but for some reason, he found it endearing instead of annoying.

‘Tch, what’s even that supposed to mean?’

‘I don’t know, it’s just, gladius symbolize strength, generosity, faithfulness and I guess those are things I associate with you.’ Your cheeks were tainted with the softest tones of red and you weren’t looking at him, your gaze was fixed on your paperwork.

Those words had a way deeper meaning, he knew it and you knew it, it was as if you were testing the water by putting the tips of your feet in it. As per usual he didn’t know what to say, what was he supposed to say to that? Thanks? I think I may be falling for you?

‘Sorry, I made things weird, I should just-’ you couldn’t finish because he had started talking.

‘I think you would be a yarrow flower.’ Amazing, now he was the one talking nonsense.

Not so long ago he pictured you as yellow lilies, joy and happiness, but after getting to know you better, he realized that that description was too shallow for what you meant to him. He didn’t know a lot about flowers, he wasn’t really into botany, but he had heard about yarrow before, he had heard merchants inside Sina call them ‘plant doctor’, since they would be often placed near other plants to keep the pests away, he had also heard that it was considered invasive too, because how easily it spread. Therefore, the association came quickly to him, you were healing, a solace from the cruelty of his world; and you were invasive, because he couldn’t be away from you, you consumed him.

‘That means a lot.’ Your blush was now more pronounced now and he wondered what you had made out of his words.

He felt a wave of panic travel through his body, maybe that statement was too deep, maybe he screwed it all, so he decided to excuse himself and ran away from the situation he had created. He had told you he was going to his room, he lied, he was going to the library, he needed to see what his words had meant. He wasted all his evening looking for books about the meaning of flowers, he sure looked like a madman, he hadn’t even gone to the Mess Hall to have dinner, he needed to found answers, and he found them at two a.m.

“The secret language of flowers” said the title, he opened the book and he started looking for the yarrow’s meaning.

Healing and Good Health

Courage and War

Everlasting Love

When he read the last symbolism of the flower, his heart stopped for a whole minute, did he just declare his feelings, that he wasn’t ever sure of, to you? He wanted to disappear in the spot, just vanish into the air.

He went to his room, holding the book close to his chest. He spent the rest of the night reading the book, he wouldn’t mess up again, if he ever wanted to talk about flowers with you, he would be informed. When the sun rose, his head was buzzing with flower meanings, and he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about you while reading some of them.

At breakfast he did go to the Mess Hall and took his usual place.

‘Where were you yesterday at dinner?’ asked Erwin.

‘With his girlfriend.’ Replied Hange with a big smile.

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’ He said with a grunt.

‘What are they then?’ Hange was using the tone, the one which meant “I know you’re hiding something, and I won’t stop pestering you until I discover it.”

‘We are just acquainted.’

‘Liar.’

 7. CAN’T FEEL MY FACE

He remembered how there were days when Kenny would drink himself to oblivion, Levi didn’t understand why he did it. He didn’t see the point of passing out in the floor, and when he asked, Kenny answered that ‘his vices kept him sane’. It still made no sense to him, how a man could be so cunning and sharp, while he wasted his nights and days with alcohol, women and many other things that Levi wasn’t interested on trying. He had seen Kenny drunk and it was far from having control. The first lesson Kenny had told him was that control is vital, then, how come he was powerless in his own life, letting alcohol take control of him.

‘You’re old enough to try it, boy. Take some if you want.’

The first time Kenny offered him alcohol, he had declined, he had said no, and Kenny had shrugged it off, as if saying: ‘more for me.’ He wouldn’t get it, it didn’t make sense, Kenny, who prided himself on his cold-blood and his steel nerves, would renounce to that control so easily, he didn’t want to be like that, never in a million years, he would never give up his self-control.

Until he did.

He had lost control. And he now understood Kenny.

He knew he should distance himself from you, he didn’t want more Furlan’s and Isabel’s, he was getting dangerously close to you and he didn’t want that. He should run away, disappear. You were kind and sweet, you would find someone else to feel the void he would inevitably leave. He had always been the one being left behind, and he survived, you would too. Also, it’s not as if he contributed a lot to your life. He was sure you both would be better with the other far away, I mean, the facts were there. Actually, they had been spiraling in his head for a while.

Then, if he knew all of that, why was he helping you cut clean bandages, especially so close to you that he could smell your shampoo? Oh yeah, because you asked him to, as easy as that, all his conviction melted away from every fiber of his body.

Why did he do that? Why was he so helpless around you? Oh yeah, because you made him feel so damn good. You had him wrapped around your finger and you didn’t seem to notice, you acted as if it was nothing, you had power over him, you had Humanity’s Strongest at his knees.

‘My family died a long time ago, I couldn’t save them, I moved in with my aunt and I decided that I’d study medicine for them.’ You said out of the blue.

You cut one bandage.

‘The letters I write are for them. It’s stupid, but it makes me feel closer to them.’

You cut another bandage.

He didn’t say a thing.

He hated himself, any other person would have hugged you or said something, he just stayed there, frozen and acting as cold as always. Why did you confide in him something so personal? He wasn’t the one to go when you are sad, he didn’t even know how to process his own trauma and baggage most of the time. What was he supposed to do?

On the other hand, you trusted Levi more than anyone in your life. He brought you peace and solace, something you thought you would never have.

You lost your family when you were really young, always feeling guilty for being the one who survived, and you promised to yourself you would vow your life to help the others, never putting your needs first. When you joined the military, you watched many soldiers die on your hands, you could still hear their last words, how scare they were, how they didn’t want to die like that, alone and far away from their family; you could also recall their mutilated bodies; and you could also remember how many of them would survive the Titans but lose the fights against their own mind and end up being another fallen soldier that died for nothing. You loved your job, but it also killed a part of you every day, there were no victories on a war, and you knew it. That’s why you picked up gardening, you planted a flower for every soldier who died, something to remember them.

When you met Levi, you admired him, you had heard the stories about him, his courage, mood changes, sharp tongue, skills, intelligence… You would be lying if you said he didn’t make you curious, you were used to soldiers haunted by the horrors they had faced, but something about him was different, maybe because you saw yourself in those grey eyes. You two were similar, you both had so much pent up that you could not talk about, you had an image to keep, and it was exhausting. He had a name to uphold, people looked up to him, if he failed, if he crumbled, everyone else would; you were a doctor, and no matter how hard things were, you had to be strong for your patients, never showing how much their pain took a toll on you. You could let your mask down, because even though he didn’t talk too much or overall understand why you were sharing that, it felt good, liberating.

Sometimes, he would also talk about him, not a lot, but enough to make you feel understood, and those moments, when he showed the man underneath the façade, glimpses of his true persona, those few minutes, sometimes even seconds, were responsible for your growing feelings for the captain.

‘It’s not stupid, I talk to my dead friends’ graves.’ He said nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t baring a piece of him in front of you.

Those kind of flashes of the man he was underneath took your breath away every single time.

You came close to him, slowly, testing the waters, not wanting to scare him away. Maybe it was too forward, too reckless, too much at a time, but he didn’t move. You brought your hand to his cheek. He didn’t jump away. You looked into his eyes, pools of mercury. He held your gaze, expecting your next move. You could feel the tension. He could too.

‘They would be really proud of you.’ You said, voice thin and trembling.

He was silent. Your words caught him of guard.

He was feeling too much. His heartbeat was erratic, beating wildly, he could hear it. He felt the blood boiling under his skin, he was so hot, he was sweating. He couldn’t move, but he felt his body trembling. He could feel the room closing on him, trapping him. He wasn’t in control.

It was a too familiar feeling, one he had experienced a thousand times before.

‘Levi, are you okay? I’m sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable.’ You said worriedly.

He didn’t know what to do, he just wanted the pain in his chest to end.

You were too close. You were trapping him too. So, he pushed you away from you and run from the infirmary. You couldn’t see him like that, no one could.

Why did he share that with you? Why did you get too close? Were you going to kiss him?

Why?

Why?

Why?

Why was he like that?

Why did he ruin things?

Why did he lose control of himself? He couldn’t even feel his face when you touched it.

He felt pathetic. He felt like the little kid he once was.

Control is vital.

Control is vital.

Control is vital.

If he was with you, he wasn’t in control. And if he lost his control, then he would have nothing.

He had to get away from you, because you were stripping him from the only thing he had: his control.

[kuroopaisen]

little changes | i (miya atsumu)

➵ miya atsumu is the bane of your existence. but, that means different things at different times of your life. 

PART TWO

wc: 6.9k (i know)

warnings: f!reader, cursing (too much tbh)

a/n: hi i couldn’t get this out of head so here you go,,, there’ll be a second part tomorrow 

The first time you'd met, he'd pushed you into a puddle.

"Slow down!" You yelled, chest heaving as you tried to catch up to the two boys ahead of you. Even at seven years old, their legs were significantly longer than yours.

The twins scrambled to a stop, looking over their shoulders at you.

"Hurry up!" Atsumu yapped. "If you can't keep up, we're gonna leave you behind."

"That's unfair!" You pouted, stumbling to a stop in front of them. "You can't just leave me out!"

Atsumu stared at you for a moment.

One clean shove, and you were on your butt, muck and water splashing up around you.

"What'd you do that for?" You yapped, looking up at the boy with a glare strong enough to kill a god.

"You were bein' annoyin'."

"Hey!"

"That's not cool, 'Tsumu," Osamu sighed, holding out a hand to you.

Atsumu shrugged, letting out a long, exaggerated yawn.

That was the day you decided that Miya Atsumu was your arch-nemesis.

Not much had changed since that day. Miya Atsumu was, to put it lightly, the bane of your existence.

Middle school brought him no maturity. If anything, he got worse. He treated you like a nuisance, your friendship with Osamu be damned. But unfortunately, the two of them were rarely apart. And apparently being around you was better than being bored.

"You can't spike a ball for shit," he mumbled, shaking his head at you.

"Oi, language!"

"Shuddup," he rolled his eyes, turning his back to you. "You're so borin'."

He always called you that. Boring.

You glared at him, clenching your fists. You were just trying to play along with them. Sure, your volleyball skills left something to be desired. But Osamu didn't mind. And you wanted to play with your friend, his shitstain of a brother be damned.

"Yeah, well–" You sucked in your breath, trying to think of something very cruel – but not profane, because you're only eleven and swearing is one of the worst things you could do – to say to him. "You're a bastard!"

He looked over his shoulder at you, one eyebrow raised. Did his silence spell your victory?

"Pig."

Nope.  

That was just the first of many monikers Miya Atsumu gave to you. He had so many, in fact, that it seemed he was allergic to calling you by your name. Pig seemed to be a particular favourite.

But, you always prided yourself on being tough. It took more than a few paltry words to do some real damage to you. And you were determined to not let Atsumu get the upper hand.

And yet, some days he did. They were rare, but they stung like nothing else. It was the days he got possessive. The days he told you to piss off, that he wanted to hang out with Osamu and he didn't want you there to ruin it.

You told yourself that it didn't matter. That you couldn't care less what he thought of you. But it wasn't enough to shift that awful little feeling that came with being told you were unwanted.

"Don't listen to him," Osamu sighed, hand clumsily patting your back. "He's just… like that. He sucks."

You sniffed, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Yeah."

You were just mad at yourself for crying. Thankfully, Atsumu had stalked off before you'd crumpled. But still. You'd let him get to you. You were better than that, right? Better than him.

"I still like you," Osamu swallowed, fumbling with the right words to say in a situation like this. "I'll beat him up for you, if you want."

You shook your head, a little too vigorously. "Nah, I don't want you to get into a fight with your brother because of me."

That's what it came down to, really. The feeling that you were in the way of something important. Of something that mattered more than you. The spiteful look Atsumu would shoot you whenever Osamu spent time with you instead of him hurt most.

Osamu shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. I really want an excuse to deck him in the face sometimes."

You giggled at that. It was the first time you'd smiled all day. "Thanks, 'Samu."

--------

With each year that passed, Miya Atsumu seemed to get worse. And with each year that passed, you were baffled.

How could someone have such a garbage personality? And worse yet, why was he blessed with such immense talent? You weren't an idiot, and you weren't the sort to deny credit when it was due. The twins were good. You knew jack-shit about volleyball – you'd sworn off it ever since Atsumu had been such a bastard about it – but you knew enough to know they were impressive.

They were just first years, but they were already on the starting line-up of the volleyball team. And you were quite proud of Osamu for that. It was nice to see other people recognising his talents. He'd been humble enough about it, too. Atsumu was another matter, but you'd developed something of a talent for tuning him out. So long as he wasn't insulting you directly, you could ignore him quite well. Life was much better for it.

The only bad thing about Osamu joining the volleyball team was the fact that he now hung out with them. Which wasn't a problem, per say; you were welcome to join, and they were all cordial enough. No, the issue was that sometimes spoke about girls. And nothing was more infuriating than hearing teenage boys advise one another on how to impress girls.

"You're saying I should just… ignore her?" One of the second years frowned at one of the older boys.

"Yeah," the third year nodded. "If you ignore her, she'll get all anxious about it, and she'll keep thinkin' about you."

"Huh," the second year nodded, blinking slowly. "Isn't that kind of… I dunno… mean?"

"Very," you mumbled.

"Huh?"

"If you do that, you'll seem like an asshole. Girls don't like guys like that," you sighed, head rested on Osamu's knee as you looked up at the sky.

Hanging out with the volleyball team wasn't high on your list of favourite activities. But, you had nothing better to do.

"I thought girls liked 'bad boys'," one of the third years laughed.

"I don't wanna make any generalisations," you shrugged. "But it's better if you're friends first. So you've gotta be nice to her."

You had absolutely no experience to speak of. But it seemed like the right thing to say.

"You're only saying that because you've got a thing for Osamu."

You hadn't planned on a murder today. But Suna had just changed your plans.

"Do not," you mumbled, shutting your eyes. Don't bite back, you thought to yourself. If you bite back, they'll just tease you more.

You'd actually thought about it, once. You were sixteen, after all, and ready to yearn. But, as hard as you'd tried to convince yourself that you felt something more for Osamu had fallen flat. The thought of kissing him made you laugh, when it should've made you blush. You hadn't mentioned that to him, though. Having a girl laugh at the thought of intimacy with you was probably at least a little humiliating, regardless of who she was.

"You're lying on him as we speak," one of the team snickered.

"Because I'm tired." You opened one eye to take a glance at the team. You took a moment to visualise punching them all in the face, one by one. It was almost rhapsodic. "You all suck."

"You're not even good enough for 'Samu, anyway."

Oh. Oh.

You bolted upright, glare immediately honing in on him. "Excuse me?"

Atsumu raised an eyebrow at you. "So you think you're good enough for him?"

You opened your mouth to reply. Fuck, you didn't have anything snappy to say. Was strangling him out of the question? Oh God, you could feel your face growing redder by the second. You needed to do something–

"Oi, don't use me as an excuse to make fun of her," Osamu sighed. "You don't really think that highly of me."

"That's cold, 'Samu," Atsumu grimaced. "You really think I'd be okay with you datin' this cow?"

"What did you just call me?"

"Do you like it more when I call you a pig?"

"What on earth gave you that idea, you bastard?" 

Osamu rolled his eyes as the tirade began. Not a day went by without something like this happening. Atsumu said something contrarian, and you exploded like a little firecracker. You weren't the sort to start fights, usually. But there was something about Atsumu that always managed to get under your skin.

He'd hoped that finally entering high school would've taught Atsumu how to behave. He should've known to be wiser than to indulge himself in some wishful thinking.

"Does he always provoke her?" Aran asked, frowning.

Osamu nodded. "Uh huh. He gets a kick out of it."

"Hmm," Aran nodded, "knowing everything I do about Atsumu, that makes perfect sense."

"I keep tellin' her not to respond. It just eggs him on."

"Well, I guess it's kinda hard not to," Aran shrugged.

Osamu sighed. "Y'know, sometimes I just wish they'd get along."

Aran laughed, shaking his head. "Sorry man, can't see that happening any time soon."

--------

Being a teenager fucking sucked.

Getting dumped by an admittedly shitty boyfriend might've been some kind of rite of passage, but that didn't make it hurt any less. You'd tried to count your blessings, small as they may be. At least he hadn't dumped you over text, right?

Maybe it would've been better if he had dumped you over text. That would've given you a few hours at least to pull yourself together. Instead, he'd pulled you aside just before class had started, telling you that he was done with you. He hadn't even given you the chance to speak.

And then you'd had to walk into class and pretend everything was okay. A whole school day was far too long to try and pretend you had it together.

Behind the gym was the only place you'd managed to find the silence in which to mourn. You would've gone and cried in the bathroom if you could, but there was always someone in there. You didn't want to make a scene. And surely, nobody would come behind the gym.

"Oi."

Oh, fuck.

"What do you want?" You mumbled, lacking the courage to look at him.

"I was just tryin' to clear my head before practice," he said. "What're you doin' out here?”

"None of your business," you sniffed, your shoulders hunched and your fists scrunching the fabric of your skirt.

He sat down.

No. No, no, no.

"So," he cleared his throat, not quite looking at you. "I heard about… your ex."

"Great," you sniffed, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand. It'd already reached Atsumu? How much did he know?

"Are you… alright?" His voice was quiet, unsure.

"What do you think?" You hissed, drawing your knees up to your chest.

"Sorry," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just, uh… you've seemed kinda off today."

You shot him a look.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I just…" He sighed, hanging his head.

You pressed your lips together, trying to sift through the jumble of thoughts in your mind. It wasn't that you'd expected your relationship with that asshole to last. Far from it. You just hadn't expected it to go… like this. Not after he'd taken so much from you.

"It's just that–" The words escaped from you with a hitched breath. "It's just that… I gave him a lot, you know?" You took a deep breath. You weren't about to admit everything to fucking Atsumu of all people. But you just wanted to talk. To put the pain into words. "And he didn't have the decency to… to treat me with respect. He… He…"

"Did he hurt you?" Atsumu's tone was sharp; sharper than you'd ever heard it. He still wasn't looking directly at you. If anything, that was a small comfort.

"Not physically or anything," you shook your head, relaxing your fists. "It's just that he… he treated me like shit. And… and I liked him more than I should've, I know that, but…"

You made a valiant effort at swallowing the lump in your throat. "It just fucking sucks, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him all this. You'd already said more than you'd wanted to. But damn, did it feel good to get it off your chest.

Did you seem a bit pathetic? Fuck it. Atsumu already thought poorly of you. Letting him see you like this wouldn't be a massive hit to your pride.

And, to his credit, he's listening. You think.

"I think–" You sniffed, taking a deep breath. This was the worst part of all. "I think he's been hooking up with Eiko. Or, at least, he's been trying to."

"What, really?" Oh, he'd looked pissed. You'd never seen this amount vitriol in his face before. Not even when he was arguing with you.

"Yeah." You nodded weakly. You knew it probably wasn't Eiko's fault. And even if she had 'seduced' him, he'd still chosen to dump you over it. You just didn't have the energy to direct your anger at anyone but him.

"Fuckin' piece of shit," he grumbled. You could see him clenching his fists. You'd never thought he'd get this angry on your behalf. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Don't." You nearly reached over to grab his arm. But, you didn't. "Please, I just… I just want this to pass, okay? I don't want to create a mess."

Atsumu stared at you for one long moment. You knew he was weighing up whether or not he should listen to you. Then, he sighed. "Fine."

"Thank you," you mumbled, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. You didn't know what to say, now.

"Well," he cleared his throat, finally meeting your gaze, "if he tries anythin' with you, lemme know, okay?"

You blinked, your own brow just as furrowed as his.

"He's a pig," he grunted, "and… and you deserve better than that, 'kay?"

You stared at him. Had those words really just come from his mouth? "I thought I was the pig."

Atsumu said nothing. He doesn't know what to say. You'd never really interacted like this before. Without the barbs.

He wanted to say that, even though he makes fun of you all the time, you matter. Frankly, he doesn't really know what he'd do if you weren't there for him to pick on. He's used to you being around, you know? That bred at least a little fondness. And the thought that someone had genuinely, actually hurt you pissed him off.

But he doesn't say any of that. Because he doesn't know how to. Hell, he doesn't even know what that means.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, standing to his feet. "I've gotta get back to practice."

He wants to tell you to text him if you need anything. But, he doesn't think that'll be very comforting, coming from him. So, he walked away.

"Hey, uh, Miya?"

He stopped in his tracks, just as surprised as you were. You never called him by his name.

"Could you, uh… could you keep this between us?" You asked, your throat alarmingly dry. "I'd rather 'Samu didn't know about this. I'm worried that… that he might do something stupid."

Atsumu looked over his shoulder at you. It's a small moment, a quiet one.

He just shrugs. "'Kay."

The next time you're watching them play, you're not just cheering for Osamu.

--------

It's over. Finally.

And you couldn't be more relieved.

Of course, you were going to miss your friends. And of course, all the changes that were about to come your way were fucking terrifying.

But high school sucked. And being a teenager sucked. You couldn't wait to move on from all of that. To make a real person of yourself. And you were going to Tokyo. Tokyo. You'd always lived in Hyogo; the thought of living somewhere so vastly different was downright exhilarating.

But before all that, you had to survive your goodbyes. You'd made it through the graduation ceremony well enough; in truth, you'd zoned out a little.

But now you were all outside, and it was finally time to say goodbye for good. And quite frankly, you hadn't expected to be so emotional. Honestly, you were just proud of yourself for keeping it together. Nobody else was crying – yet – and you'd be damned if you were the first person to lose composure.

You'd managed to say goodbye to most of your friends with a smile, and you'd even bid farewell to your beloved literature teacher without getting too miserable. Surely, there wouldn't be too many people left to see.

A flash of grey and yellow at your right.

Oh no. You had to speak to Osamu. That'd do it.

"Oi!" You called out, hurdling towards him.

Osamu turned around, raising a hand at you. Atsumu glanced in your direction, but he made no effort to greet you. Asshole.

"C'mere," Osamu smiled, opening his arms up.

You threw yourself into them, wrapping your arms around his neck as you supported yourself on your tip-toes. He smiled, chuckling in your ear. Good God, you were going to miss him.

"We did it," you smiled, squeezing him tight.

"Somehow." It was subtle, but you could feel the joy in his voice.

"Good job on getting into TSUJI," you beamed, dropping down as he released you from his grasp.

"Thanks," he smiled, reaching a hand up and ruffling your hair. "University of Tokyo’s nothin' to sniff at, you know."

You blushed, despite yourself. "Yeah, well…"

"Stop bein’ so humble," he said, punching you gently in the shoulder. "Make me proud, you hear?"

"You too."

And that's enough. That's all you need to say. He wasn't big on words, and that was okay. It had always been okay. You knew that you guys would stay friends. Even if everyone else fell away, if you drifted from all these people you held close… you knew you'd have 'Samu.

You heard a voice calling you. You straightened your shoulders, looking up at Osamu resolutely. "I'll see you this weekend, yeah?"

"Sure," he shrugged, nodding at you.

You smiled back, feeling that persistent sting at the corners of your eyes. Your eyes flicked over to Atsumu for just a moment. He'd turned away from you once you'd thrown your arms around Osamu, opting instead to speak to some of the first years. You wondered, for one short moment, if you should try and talk to him.

Nah.

You swallowed, turning around to walk towards whoever had called your name. If you spent any more time standing still, you might not be able to hold back the tears.

You felt a tug on your sleeve, pulling you downwards.

"Oi."

You'd know that voice anywhere. "You're so rude." You shot him a glare, straightening yourself out.

Things had mellowed out a little since that day behind the gym. You wouldn't go so far as to say you were friends; he was still abrasive, and you were still struck by the urge to punch him in the face whenever he came into your field of vision.

But his words had been a little gentler. Insults abounded, but he seemed a bit more mindful. Like he was checking your mood before pushing your buttons.

Or maybe you were just imagining it. Maybe you just wanted that weird little moment between the two of you to mean something.

"What do you want, Miya?" You sighed, after a long silence.

He'd just been standing there, completely silent. He hadn't even bit back. His lips were pursed as he stared at nothing in particular. What an earth is he thinking about? You wondered.

Then, finally, he looked at you. "Wanna live together?"

You froze. Why was he so… like this? "Excuse me?"

He shrugged, hands in his pockets and an obnoxiously bored look on his face. "That's easier than findin' a roommate, right? We already know each other, and we'll both be in Tokyo."

No congratulations. No words of kindness. Nothing. Just straight to business. You weren't sure if that or the offer he'd just made was more baffling.

You bit your lip. Could there be anything worse than living with this fool? Maybe you could end up with a shitty roommate – but he'd also be a shitty roommate. How much worse could a total stranger be?

"Hey. Dickhead."

You jumped, looking up to meet his eyes. "Oh, uh… Let me think about it."

"'Kay."

And then, he was gone.

'Kay? 'Kay? That's all he'd had to say to you? After asking you to live with him? How'd he even come up with that idea? Had Osamu told him to do it? Oh, maybe it was his parents. They were quite fond of you, after all. Perhaps they thought you could keep their son in line or something.

But that wasn't your responsibility! You didn't want it to be your responsibility!  

You shook your head. No, you weren't going to let this dominate your thoughts. You would worry about Atsumu later. For now, you just had to focus on getting through the rest of today.

--------

Your reasons for living with Miya Atsumu were simple.

One: you'd avoid each other. Surely, even if you were in the same apartment, you'd give each other a wide enough berth to ensure some sense of privacy.

Two: you could live like an absolute pig and it wouldn't matter. Who cared if you didn't do your dishes that evening? It only affected him. And fuck him.

Three: you'd heard one too many horror stories about friendships being torn to pieces because of shit like this. You didn't want to risk that.

Four: you didn't want to live with a stranger.

Simple as that.

And those were the four reasons you'd told Osamu, in a paltry attempt to justify yourself. He'd been sceptical, of course – and he'd said, without an ounce of goodwill, "you don't know just how bad he is to live with" – but he hadn't tried to stop you.

But one semester was already over and done with. And things were fine.

Honestly, you were still surprised that he'd even asked this of you. But, his reasons were his own, and frankly, you didn't care what they were.

Yes, he lived like a pig. And God, you'd heard him in bed one too many times because apparently he doesn't know how to be quiet.

"It's not my fault you're not gettin' any," he'd say. You always wanted to bite back and say that you were getting more than enough, thank you very much. You were just polite enough to be quiet. But, you always decided – quite wisely – that it wasn't an argument worth getting into.

But, there's something about the freedom of simply not caring if your roommate would get mad at you for some stupid mistake that made it all worth it. You were allowed to fuck up, to make all those silly mistakes every did in that transitory stage from high school to adulthood. Nothing you could do would ruin an important friendship.

You got to learn how to be a decent person without the consequences.

"Would ya mind if I had some friends over?"

Believe it or not, but this was a big step for him. A few weeks ago, and he would've just brought them over, your feelings be damned.

"When?"

"Thursday evenin'."

"What for?"

"Just catchin' up," he shrugged.

"Is this you asking me if I'm okay with it, or is it you asking me to get out of the house?" You raised an eyebrow at him, stirring your tea.

He flashed you a grin.

You rolled your eyes. "Really?"

"Come on," he propped his chin up on his fist, beaming at you from across the kitchen counter. "Surely, you don't wanna be around when there's a buncha guys in the apartment. Do you?"

"So you're going to bring them over regardless of what I say?"

Nevermind. This wasn't a step for him at all.

"Essentially," he shrugged.

You groaned, lolling your head back.

"Can't you just go to the library or somethin'?" He pouted.

"I don't have any assignments to work on," you frowned. "It's literally only week two."

"Aren't you always tellin' me it's better to get ahead early?" He raised an eyebrow at him.

You narrowed your eyes at him, biting the inside of your cheek. "Week two's overkill."

"Well, just… do your weekly readings or somethin'."

"I'd rather do them from the comfort of my own bed."

Atsumu groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I already told 'em they could come over."

Oh, you were so ready to throttle him.

"Can't you just… make yourself busy?" He shrugged. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable or anythin'."

"You should've thought about that before inviting them over," you growled. "Shit, what are you planning on getting up to, anyway?"

He shrugged. "It'll just stress you out."

"Miya, what the fuck–"

"One of the guys thinks you're hot."

You blinked. He really knew how to be blunt, didn't he?

"And?"

"I can't promise he won't try'n hit on you."

"Yeah, and?"

Atsumu shrugged. "I dunno. I just… thought you might be a bit uncomfortable with that."

"How does he even know what I look like?"

"I showed 'em a photo."

Oh God. Of course he did.

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"I mentioned that my roommate's a chick. They wanted to see."

"Miya," you sighed, gripping your own hair. "What – and I cannot stress this enough – the fuck?"

"It didn't seem like a big deal at the time," he tilted his head at you, smiling. "I mean, I'm just as surprised at you that someone finds you attractive–"

"Shut up."

"– but I just thought you should know. Clear things up before they get too awkward, you know?"

No, you didn't.

But, you didn't really want to have this conversation anymore.

"Fine," you sighed, turning to pour the rest of your tea down the sink. For some reason, you didn't really want it anymore. "I'll find something to do."

Shouldn't be too hard. Maybe a bar or a pub would have a student's night. Maybe one of your friends would be free. There was always something to do in the city. 

"I owe you one," Atsumu grinned. You had half a mind to knock his teeth out then and there.

"You really do," you sighed, rinsing your cup out.

"Already got something in mind."

"Sounds like there's a catch," you mumbled, looking over your shoulder at him.

"No catch," he held his hands up, giving you what you assumed was his best smile.

"Has anyone ever told you you've got an untrustworthy face, Miya?"

"All the time," he grinned. "Nah, but really. No catch."

You titled your head at him, waiting for a proposal of some kind.

"I'll buy you pizza."

You scoffed. "Really? That's your consolation?"

"I'll get you the expensive shit," he shrugged. "Friday night. Promise."

"Can you even afford anything that's not from the cheapskate menu?"

"Can you?"

You shrugged at that one.

"Nah, I promise, it'll be good," he sighed. "I'll make it worth it, 'kay?"

--------

Friday nights were for Atsumu.

You weren't quite sure how it started. Something to do with him being exhausted from volleyball practice. Something to do with you being exhausted from university. Something else about how neither of you had any energy left to go out and socialise.

Whatever it was, you'd settled into a comfortable rhythm. Friday night, pizza, and a shitty movie.

These days, you actually liked having him around. Not that you were going to admit to it, though. No, you'd rather die than do anything like that.

You weren't quite sure why you'd suddenly adjusted to him. Was it because you'd known him for so long? Even if he was an absolute nuisance, he was familiar. Someone you could be a goblin around, without having to worry about him wanting to end your friendship over it. No, you'd been involved with each other far too long for that.

And honestly, it was kind of nice to have someone to relax around. While you'd managed to find some people you clicked with at university… making friends was hard. There was no-one you could be an absolute pig with yet.

So, Atsumu would do for now.

You'd just finished watching Neil Breen's Fateful Findings. It had been surprisingly easy to find a copy with Japanese subtitles; that being said, you didn't feel it had given you any clarity as to what was actually going on. Atsumu had loved it, though. He'd already tried throwing some of the quotes back at you. That was sure to make him harder to live with for at least the next week or two.

"Wanna play Smash?" He was sprawled out on the couch, looking at you with a painfully cocky expression.

"Absolutely not."

"Worried I'll beat your ass again?" Did he have to smirk after every second thing he said?

You glared at him. "Wanna say that to my face?"

He grinned, turning to face you head on. "Worried I'll beat your ass again?"

"I was having an off day," you mumbled.

"Wanna prove that, or…"

You bit the inside of your cheek. If you did play, there were two possible outcomes. The first was that you won. If you won, it'd shut him up, and you could go on with your pride more or less intact. The second was that you lost. And you weren't quite sure if you could handle his ego.

"I'll prove it to you right now," you snapped. "On this couch, with my fists."

He blinked at you.

"You're going down for good, Miya."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm gonna make you squirm like the worm you are."

He laughed. A real, genuine laugh. The sort that relieved all tension from his body, erasing any hint of his usual insufferable expression.

He was actually kind of handsome.

You'd always known he had a nice body – you weren't blind, you were just too proud to admit it. And it'd gotten even nicer since graduation. Practice paid off, it seemed.

And there was something appealing about his relaxed air. About how he didn't seem to take life too seriously. It almost made him enjoyable to be around.  

Maybe that's why so many girls were interested in him.

Wait, no. They only liked him because they hadn't spoken to him yet.

Oh, right. Girls.

Something shifted in your chest. Something you had never noticed before. Something so quiet, so understated that you hadn't even realised it had made its way in there.

Oh God, you thought, what the fuck is happening to me?

Whatever it was, you didn't like it.

Miya Atsumu was hot. That, unfortunately, was a fact you were now uncomfortably aware of.

"Oi." A hand was being waved in front of your face. You jumped. "Pay attention, you pig."

Oh, nope. There he was. There's the Atsumu you were used to.

"You're a fucking bastard," you mumbled, shrinking into yourself.

You're weren't quite sure what you were saying. You'd just flicked onto autopilot. But you knew that your words were comfortable, familiar. Little insults that a child would throw around. Anything to stave off whatever that weird stirring in your stomach was.

--------

In many ways, realising Miya Atsumu was actually kind of hot ruined your life.

Were you being over-dramatic? Probably. But had things changed? Definitely. To a large extent, it was on you; glances stolen when he wasn't looking, your mind wandering to places it really shouldn't.

But he'd been acting up, too. Standing far too close to you when you were in the kitchen – close enough that you could feel his chest against your back, reaching over your head to grab a cup while damn-near draping his body over you, walking around without a shirt on in the common area…

One time, when you'd dressed up all nice for a friend's birthday, he'd brazenly checked you out. He hadn't said anything – he'd just stared. When you asked him what was wrong, he just shrugged and told you to have fun. And, of course, he'd smirked at you. You'd been ready and willing to kill him.  

Whenever you were on the couch, he always seemed to reach over you and take the remote himself instead of simply asking you to hand it to him. And sure, that wasn't all too weird – but he tended to get really close, and catch your eye for just a moment with that little smirk on his lips. Each and every time, you felt like you were going to explode.

You'd taken to sticking pillows between you on the couch, because you wouldn't be surprised if he decided to lay his head on your lap or some shit on a whim.

Maybe he was messing with you, but this sort of behaviour wasn't totally un-Atsumu. You'd seen him act like this with people before. It's just that you two had never really been close enough to warrant it. Was it just a symptom of the fact that you guys were kind of friends now? Was he just treating you like everyone else?

But some part of you was even angrier at that. You didn't want to be treated like everyone else.

God, you felt stupid for even feeling like that. Especially when you'd had an awkward morning chat with a few of his bedfellows – where each and every time, you couldn't help but marvel at the fact that he was punching so far above his weight. How on earth were people this beautiful paying attention to him?

That was starting to make more and more sense recently.

You tried not to think about it.

But that was getting harder and harder to you. You'd been kind of lonely. Some quiet part of you wanted a serious relationship; someone to come home to of an evening, to relax and unwind with. You'd even been actively looking. Not that you were about to admit that to anyone.

But men are shit. Especially ones in their early twenties.

But as resolutely as you believed that, there you were, preparing for yet another date. You'd have a particularly messy string of disasters recently; men who did little more than stare at your tits, men who had nothing interesting to say, men who thought that being an asshole was a personality…

Tonight, you hoped, would be different. Sure, you'd met this guy in an econ elective – you'd needed something easy to bring your GPA up – and that certainly wasn't a point in his favour. But, he'd taken in interest in you, despite the fact you'd never really spoken before. A few months ago, you might've turned him down. But surely he'd be better than the drivel Tinder unfailingly turned out.

Only problem was that he wanted to go somewhere chic. Somewhere fancy. Somewhere that was, quite frankly, out of your comfort zone.

"Another date?" Atsumu scoffed, leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom.

"What's it to you?" You grumbled, leant in close to the bathroom mirror. You couldn't get your makeup to look how you wanted it to; everything just seemed a little wonky, a little uneven. And your foundation hadn't settled nicely into your face. It just sat there, a tacky second skin you just wanted to slough off.

"Nothin'," Atsumu shrugged. "You've just never gone out on a Friday before."

Oh. That's right.

You shrugged, biting your cheek. "It's the only day he could get a reservation." In truth, you hadn't even thought about it.

"Same guy as before?"

You shook your head. You couldn't actually remember the last guy you'd told Atsumu about. The amount of bad dates you'd been on was getting embarrassing. "Nah. This one's a classy bastard."

He snorted. "You're kiddin', right?"

You shook your head. "I'm going to have to let him pay for the date because I genuinely don't think I can afford it."

"Yikes," he chuckled. "You know, I never really took you for a gold digger."

You had half a mind to throw your mascara at him. "Shut up."

"If you keep faffin', you'll be late."

Shit, He was right. You checked your phone. 5:25. You had five minutes to leave. You picked it up and made your way to the door, ready to squeeze past Atsumu. You turned, dashing back to the mirror and poking at your hair.

"Stop worryin'," he chuckled, waving a hand at you as he began to walk away. "You look nice."

Those words stuck with you all the way to the restaurant. They were so simple, so innocuous, but… They were touching, coming from him.

And when your date was talking to you about something you simply didn't find interesting, you couldn't get that look on Atsumu's face out of your head.

--------

The date was a veritable disaster. Possibly the worst you'd had in a while.

First of all, the guy was a total asshole. And not just the Atsumu kind – no, this one was rich. He'd had his entire life handed to him on a silver platter, and it showed. You could tolerate it, at first. But when he'd literally said, "I don't think the poor should be allowed to vote," you knew you couldn't stick around.

Second of all, you couldn't stop thinking of Atsumu and his damn smirk.

You'd gotten up without even giving your date an explanation. You'd stormed out of the restaurant in a rage, resolute on walking all the way home.

Why did it always turn out this way? The guys were either assholes, or far too self-centred for a proper relationship. If they were neither of those things, there was just no chemistry between the two of you.

God, were you the problem? Were good people just not attracted to you?

What were you supposed to do?

To top it all off, it began to rain when you were just halfway home.

As you slammed the door, you looked as awful as you felt.

Atsumu flinched, sprawled out in front of the television. He sat up a little straighter, looking at you from over the back of the couch.

"Yikes!" He scoffed. "You look like shit!"

Your breath caught in your throat. No. No, you weren't going to take this from him right now. Not tonight.

"Y'know, you wouldn't've gotten rained off if you'd just stayed in," he chuckled, propelling himself off the couch and ambling his way over to you. "What a waste…"

He came to a stop in front of you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. He had that look on his face; that insufferable smirk he whipped out whenever he'd beaten you in something menial. That smirk that, in any other circumstance, would've made you want to punch him. But tonight, it just made you want to cry.

"You haven't said anythin'," he frowned, tilting his head at you. "You okay?"

You wanted to lie. You wanted to tell him that it was fine, that the mascara dappling your cheeks was just the result of the rain.

But you couldn't. You couldn't get the words out of your mouth.

You took a deep breath.

You stopped breathing. His arms were around you, pulling you into his chest. It was rough, the embrace of someone who wasn't used to tenderness. There's this strange stiffness to it, an admission that he doesn't really know what he's doing. But as he rests his head on your chin, you couldn't be more grateful for his efforts. Your hands found their way to his chest, balled up and tense.

"Hey," he mumbled, "hey. It's going to be okay."

You looked up at him, your throat sore from holding back a sob and eyes stinging from unshed tears.

Maybe it's because you're emotional. Or because you're tired. Or maybe it's because you're lonely, and he said a few nice things to you today.

You kissed him.

It's hot, open-mouthed as your fists grasped his shirt, pulling him down to meet you.

Your head is swimming; what the fuck is happening?

 His arms tensed around you, his lips moving to meet yours.

This is what you want. This is what you've wanted for a while now. You hadn't wanted to go on all those shitty dates. You hadn't wanted to waste your time with men you didn't care about. What you'd wanted was–

He froze.

So did you.

His hands are holding your forearms firmly as he stepped back, an inscrutable expression on his face.

"No, baby." He shook his head. "Not like this."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You flew down the hall, slamming your bedroom door.

You sank to the floor, arms finding their way around your knees. You didn't want to cry. You didn't want to dignify this evening with that. You weren't going to pity your own shitty mistakes.

Fuck the date. That wasn't even the worst part of the night.

You'd just kissed Miya fucking Atsumu. Things were finally going okay between the two of you. He'd been treating you like a human being.

And now you'd ruined it.

[poptod]

Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them to Me), pt. 5 (Ahkmenrah  x Reader)

Description: You finally learn just how far he will go.

Notes: this story takes a very interesting turn, but i promise its worth the ending i promise. ending might not be done for several more chapters though :) hope thats alright! WC: 8.2 k

+

He left you alone in the garden.

You could've run away then. The trees and brush you'd have to wade through would be a tiny price for freedom, and you were mostly hidden from the view of the house. Instead you curled into a ball, having never felt as small as this in all your life, and hid yourself away. He was on your mind.

A taste of how your life would be if you ran already began to build on your tongue, as though in this moment you were free of his hold, entirely, wholly, and truly. It was bitter, like bile, tainted by the man who would always be on your mind, no matter how far or fast you ran. He had left his mark, scarred your skin, and you would never be rid of his presence. His eye that he forced into your mind would always watch over you, broadcasting his desirous thoughts into your consciousness. A voyeur in your own head.

Bereft of energy, you leant against the alabaster pillar, drooping eyes set uneasily upon the flowing water. He would do anything for you, but how far did that insanity go? Would he eventually grow tired of your emotional distance and forcefully take you for his own? All you knew of him was what he decided to show you––not a single bit more.

"Amoke?"

You looked drearily upwards, but relief filled you upon seeing Haji approaching you.

"You don't look so good," he noted, sitting down on the step beside you.

"I'm just a little tired," you sighed, pulling the blanket on your shoulders tighter around you.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yes, fortunately. How about you? What is your housing like here?"

"Not too bad," he said with a shrug. "I've got three other men in my room, but we're all in bunks. Main part of the house is nice, though. Lots of baked goods."

"Sounds nice," you chuckled. Your gaze fell once more to the intricate path of stone beneath your feet.

"So... Ahk told me you had a bit of a rough time this morning," he said slowly. You knew that was why he was here, yet still your heart sunk a little.

"I don't often find myself in large cities, much less in the middle of them."

"That's not the only thing bothering you though, is it?"

You sighed, before softly saying, "no."

Haji waited patiently while you thought through your words, contemplating them fully before you spoke.

"I told myself, when I was first caught by your King, that I wouldn't sympathize with him. I promised that I wouldn't fall into that common illness, but... now.. well, every now and then he seems human. Then it all fades away, and then it comes back, and... he's capable of controlling what people think of him. He puts on different personalities for different people. Why does he do that?"

"That's his job," Haji said simply, sending a stake through the core of your mindset. "He can't be a ruler all the time, but he can't not be a ruler when he's out in public. It's good that he hasn't let being a King take over his whole personality, like his father. The fact that he shows you all these sides of him means he wants you to be welcome in all parts of his life."

"... did he tell you to say that?"

He laughed, shaking his head as he patted your shoulder.

"No, but that was a very worship-y thing for me to say," he admitted.

"Heh," you said in a soft huff, wrapping your arms around your legs and pulling them in close.

"Haji?!" Ahk called from inside the house.

Haji sighed, almost rolling his eyes as he pushed himself to his feet.

"See you," he said, trotting off.

A couple minutes later you heard voices, which was strange, considering the garden was a decent distance from the house. You glanced around, eventually looking up to find Ahk and Haji, framing the sides of an open arch held high above the ground. They were discussing something quietly, but the wind carried their voices to you.

"Are they alright?"

"Yeah, considering what you're doing to them."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I – I'm sorry, my K-"

"It's fine," he muttered curtly. "Don't let it happen again."

You bit into your cheek hard, till your skin stung, and your jaw ached with the force in it. How had you ever willingly done his bidding? How had it slipped your mind, that he was still a royal? It was obvious in his step, his manner, his words, and his presentation, yet you had allowed yourself to thank him. To speak softly to him. To share parts of yourself that you had always sworn to keep to yourself.

No matter––you could not take away what you'd already freely sacrificed, but that didn't mean you had to keep sharing things. Today it would stop, and you would feel no more sympathy for the fickle man. As nice as Haji was, he did work for the King, and whatever you told him would end up in Ahkmenrah's ear. Sharing with him would also have to cease.

Maybe you were being too bitter, too closed off, but your crimes were meager in the face of Ahkmenrah's. He wanted you for his collection, to keep your beauty near him like a caged bird. If you yearned to leave, he would lock you up, and if you dreamed to fly, he would clip your wings, to keep you for his own.

Bastard.

That night it rained. Poured down in great sheets, battering down on the stone walls surrounding you, and tearing down palm trees like grass in a wildfire. You remained in the gazebo, rooted to the spot until Ahk came out to see you.

"Dearest, you'll get sick in all this rain," he said in a soft voice, kneeling in front of you, and looking up with familiar reverence dulled by the darkened sky.

You said nothing. Instead you fell into him, exhausted by your rampant mind, and aching from the water soaking down your clothes.

"Let's get you inside," he murmured, setting one arm beneath your knees, and the other behind your back.

With a small heave you were in his arms, the whole of your weight easily carried. He adjusted you a few times before you made it back to the house, where he set you down in front of a massive firepit, leaving you in the piles of blankets to run to the front door. You watched, huddled close to yourself as he opened the door and rushed in a small group of people. Among them was Naguib, who looked in a similar fashion to yourself––drenched.

Wet shoes and bare feet slapped against the white floor, puddles of dripping rain collecting on the path to the fire. The sound would have surely echoed if the fire wasn't roaring and crackling, dulling the sound of the rain, and calming you with every floating ember.

Slowly, the group of people around you grew, till Ahk saddled in beside you, his head on your shoulder.

These were his servants. You assumed that the housing set up for them in Thebes wasn't great, and Ahk had decided his house was a good spot for everyone to house up for the night. Sounded just like him––troubling you to the point of a breakdown, and then following that up with an act of kindness you'd see out of no other King.

"Are we sleeping here tonight?" You asked, barely audible above the murmurs of servants and the dancing fire.

"I think it'd be most wise," he murmured, shuffling to kiss your bare shoulder, before returning to his lax, sleepy position.

As people drifted off to sleep, hidden far away from the storm's ravages, you stared at the fire. It dimmed, and more people fell asleep, and you stared, wide eyes unable to close. By now you were lying down, Ahk curled up in your side as you stared at the burning cinders. He snored, though you hardly minded, finding comfort in his obvious heartbeat and the soft warmth of his breath.

He would always be an enigma to you. Or, perhaps, your affection for him would always be an enigma––reasonless, and petty, and undeserved.

"Sweet... darling," he mumbled through sleep-numb lips, grasping you tighter and forcing his face into your side, hiding away from the world.

You shifted, unable to move your arm beneath his head, and pressed your lips to the top of his head.

"Go to sleep, Ahk," you whispered.

"I love you."

Oh.

I love you.

The words circled your head, always on the corner of your eye as the ship beneath you creaked. It was a barge, or that's what Ahk called it; a carrier for Amun beneath the starlit sky. You tried to keep at the edge of the water, but Ahk kept his hand rooted at your waist. You supposed, in the amassed crowd, it would be a little hard to find you once the boat reached the other side of the Nile.

Behind your ship, where the golden statue of Amun rested, a fleet of other ships sailed in your wake, all of varying sizes. Some people sailed alone on small canoes, while others joined larger ships that took families across the river. All followed a path they'd taken before, one lit by a literal golden beacon––Amun, reflecting the light of torches held high above the people's heads. He would be carried by a team of men, who would set the God in the temple of Luxor for worshippers to place their kisses upon.

You could hardly see the ships, as Ahk kept you on an elevated platform overlooking everything in front of him, which simultaneously blocked his view of behind with a large shack.

"Should I pray with you or.. stay out of the temple?" You asked, careful to keep your voice quiet despite the loud voices of the pilgrims.

"You don't have to pray," he said, looking down at you with an assuring smile. "You don't have to stay outside of the temple, either. You can do whatever you like. I'd suggest partaking in the food, though, just by the way."

"It's alright," you said. "I'm mildly interested in how your religion works, so I'll watch your ceremony."

"Wonderful," he beamed.

Your balance stumbled as the hull of the barge hit the sandy shore, banking in another painted metropolis. Massive statues of Amun met you there, though the standing ones were made of limestone, and were a deal smaller than the golden idol. They flanked the docks, protecting the entrance to the city and the adhering temple.

Torches, held by soldiers who came to greet the boats, made way for the muddy ripples of water to visibly crash into the wood, making the ground beneath you sway. With help from Ahk, you rushed off the boat in an orderly manner. Swaths of people followed from behind, running onto the various docks, and watching the Pharaoh with eager eyes. Those whose attention fell to you glared, or stared confused.

Once most people were off the boats, the soldiers and workers began to lift the golden statue, causing an uproar of cheers from those around you. You nearly cringed from the sheer volume, but the grins surrounding you turned your fear to curiosity. Now you watched, blocking out the yells, as the statue was carried off the boat and onto land, passing by you and Ahk as it made its' way to the shore and the temple beyond.

You made to follow the crowd as it followed the statue, but Ahk tugged on your hand, keeping you on the dock. A soft and unbothered smile was on his face, and you paused in your curiosity.

"What are you doing?" You asked, your voice still hushed despite being alone.

"It's better to let them pray for a little while and mingle before I enter. Gets some of their energy out so they don't trample me," he said with a shrug.

"Wow. They must really like this holiday."

"I think more than anything they're excited about free food," he chuckled, his smile growing when you chortled.

Soon he was leading you back down the wooden dock, following the footprints in the sand towards the towering rocks. The dark of night casted the temple as a silhouette, whose real shape could not be truly identified, other than the fact that it was a very large structure. Even by starlight you could barely see the steps as you approached them.

The hallway you entered was deathly quiet, but lit distantly by the lights of the next room ahead. You slowed, your attention ensnared by the statues on either side of you, and your steps came to a silent crawl. Ahk allowed you to gawk at the art before he lead you onwards, a self-satisfied smile on his lips that parted them ever so slightly. Between the tall statues were pillars, and in front of each God sat a shallow basin, all filled with a clear oil.

You turned back to Ahk, ready to continue, pausing to allow him to endow himself with holy oil. Since the journey to Karnak had been started so late into the evening, you had yet to truly see him, and for a moment wondered if he would be wearing makeup.

Blue painted his eyelids, long, sharp lines defining his eyes as he stepped into the golden light, his entirety bathed in the holy glow. His cape trailed meters behind him, shimmering as though it were nothing more than a mist. Cuffs remained a constant in his outfit, though now they cradled his upper arms, his wrists, and his ankles, each carved ornately with faience and lapis defining the lines. The collar holding up his cape bore a royalty all its' own, crystal beads of red, blue, gold, and green coming one after the other in swirling patterns. Three golden amulets fell from the front of the collar, dripping down like rain on his bare chest and stomach.

Power had a name. Royalty had been born through his name––settling deep into his person, seeping out its' presence through his veins. This was the God the Nubians feared, the Hittites, the Phoenicians, all relented their struggle in the palm of this man's hand.

He stepped forward and the cheers of the hall fell into silence, heads bowing as all came to their knees. Foreheads pressed against the ground, hands outstretched on the temple floor, but consistently retaining a clear path to the statue of Amun.

Ahk continued into the room a few more steps before he realized you weren't at his side. At that point he turned to you, meeting your eye and calling you over with a silent wave of his hand. The blood in your heart froze, petrified by the insinuation, as your eyes darted between the bowed heads and the Pharaoh's outstretched hand. But he was patient, and he waited, his welcoming hand never falling.

After another moment you took his offer, fingers sliding over his palm till he grasped you, entangling your hands together. He pulled you gently forward, and soon you were walking by his side, welcome to bask in the respect of a silent room.

You noticed, once you looked up from the worshippers with guilt, that the statue of Amun had been placed upon a pedestal, a pedestal that had several different levels, and a staircase leading up. On the lower levels, statuettes and reliefs of Mut and Khons numbered many. There was where you stopped and turned, facing the long, torch-lit hall filled to the brim with devotees of Amun and Ahkmenrah.

"They bow for you, too," he murmured in your ear.

Your eyes settled on the exposed backs, the spines popping up, and the different adornments of people from all classes. None of them knew who you were. Would they bow to a stranger just because their King told them to?

Apparently.

To the sides of the altar, you caught sight of the Pharaoh's advisors, and a few of his personal servants, who were bowed alongside the rest.

"I am a King unlike my father," Ahkmenrah began, the first words of a long expected speech. "Unlike my father, I have brought us to peace, and have done so in a fraction of the entire time my father spent ruling. Unlike my father, I will love whomever I decide fit," his hand on your waist tightened, "and I will worship who I desire to. As a King I am allowed these comforts––the freewill of choice, and the means to live fruitfully. I am not controlled by my father... or my advisors.

"Unlike my father, I will give you these rights. Restore what should have never been taken. I will return your free will. I will allow all to marry who they desire, regardless of race, class, or gender."

The already confused crowd began to murmur, heads lifting to whisper to one another in curiosity and disbelief.

"I will pay back what my people sow," he continued. "You will be able to pride yourself on your work, no matter what that is, as all creation is important, and shall be protected under my rule. I will give back the means you give me to live fruitfully. As I regenerate myself and my power during this evening, so shall you be reinvigorated, as my blood runs in your heart, just as your blood runs in mine."

He stopped speaking, and for a moment dead silence ensnared you, before a rupture of cheers and applause broke your ears. Voices surrounded you, echoing off the tall ceiling painted with stars. Beside you, the Pharaoh beamed, basking in the adoration till he turned to you. It was then, within that fiery temple, and within the view of the population of a whole city, that he held your face soft in his palm and kissed you. Needy, incredibly needy, essentially desperate, but gentle. As though you would break. The tension fell instead upon himself, in his tight chest that just barely pressed to yours. His breath pushed and pulled, longing to feel you move against him, never ceasing to thrill your nerves as his fingertips brushed across your bare stomach.

When at last you kissed him back, he melted into you, almost leaning his whole weight on you in relief. He did his best to keep himself upright, and parted when it was clear you were short on breath. For a moment he stared, scanning your wide eyes, before kissing you once more, this time much shorter.

Looking to the sides of the altar, he waved in the servants, who sprang to their feet with trays of food. They dispersed amongst the now-standing crowd, feeding the citizens just as the Pharaoh promised. Musicians appeared from behind tall pillars, strumming melodies you'd never heard before. As they did, Ahk took your hand, kissing the back of it as he began to step down from the altar.

"Ever dance before?" He asked, a teasing smile growing across his face.

"Not in Egypt," you said. Different cultures had different styles of dance, and you were in no state to embarrass yourself with your 'foreign customs'.

"It's much the same as most places," he assured you, leading you down the steps. "Just move however the music tells you to."

Drums brought in a heavy beat, thrumming in your veins as the steps of many dancers surrounded you. The weight of their feet, jumping and pounding in tune with the lutes, created a beat you could easily move your body to. Ahk felt much the same, as he smiled wide and twirled you beneath his arm. Exhilaration caught the breath in your throat, warming your already-flushed skin, and enthralling you with the Pharaoh's many talents. Of course he would know how to dance––of course he would know how to twirl you, how to dip you, to run his hands over every inch of your body without ever truly stopping his melodic movements.

A dream, he was––a glowing halo over his head, the heavenly sky painted above his piercing eyes. His clothes, doing their own dance around his moving body, swayed and whipped the glittering silk high in the air, twirling around him like a golden universe. You found yourself grinning wider than you'd ever done in his presence, searching for his hand and its' warmth whenever he parted. Without thought you chased after him, giggling as he made his way through the crowd, nearly clearing a circle in the middle of the holy temple.

By firelight you caught your reflection in his eyes. It was then you saw yourself, your near-manic smile, your tussled hair, and the royal robes dripping elegantly off your body. This was not you––or, at least, this wasn't you before Ahkmenrah captured you. Yet you found, with his hand on your waist and your chests pressed tight together, that very rarely had you been happier than this moment.

People around you, staring at you, the scent of spilled wine and twice-baked honey intoxicating you. The circle around you continued to dance, but kept an eye on you and the King.

"See?" He murmured out of breath. "You are beautiful. Heavenly. You are already a God. See how they stare?"

"Yes," you whispered out.

"They are simply processing your divinity," he said, his eyes darting to each feature on your face.

"What should I do?"

"Dance."

Beneath the eyes of Amun you kissed him, soft and barely there, before you gently parted yourself from him. He watched, breathless, as you placed your hand on his chest. You circled him, drawing your finger around his chest to his back.

"This is how they dance in the east," you mumbled in his ear, carefully watching the eager crowd as you spoke.

You grabbed his hand, whirling him around to face you as another grin began to cross you. He mimicked your smile, enchanted by your movements, gaze never ceasing as you began to move your hips. The staring of strangers now only served to fuel you, caught up in the wanderlust that had captured you so vividly as a child. This had been your source of energy, how you kept moving throughout the world––the presentation of other cultures, their wisdom, and their art.

Soon you were tangling yourself back into Ahk, allowing him to pull you in circles and dictate your steps. The two of you moved in near synchronicity, and as the temple's dancers joined in on the sides, so did the rest of the populace crammed into the hall. Musicians played louder as the shouts and whoops of listeners began to overtake it.

You caught sight of the golden statue once more, your gaze lingering on those knelt at its' feet. Plates, bowls, and clay pitchers of food and wine now overcrowded the base, accompanied by the reliefs of Mut and Khons, as well as tokens made of Amun's image. Slowly you dragged your eyes upwards, to the watching stare of the golden God.

It blinked.

Massive eyelids closed over empty eyes, causing you to falter in your step. Your own eyes widened, caught horrified by the statue, a terror that quickly halted Ahk's own dancing. He looked at you confused for a moment, before following your line of sight to the statue.

The room fell into an astonished silence, instruments screeching to a halt as the statue's arms began to crack, movement slowly filling them until they tore apart from the main body. Fingers cracked as though sore from stillness, followed by the horrid trembling of the floor brought about by his heavy feet. They tore from the base, stepping down from the altar as the face began to move, animated, and smiling.

The golden eyes of Amun stared at the tiny people below him, a space amidst the crowd cleared for him to stand easily in the temple.

You looked up bug-eyed, your mouth falling open as Ahk grasped your lower arm tight.

"Is this supposed to happen?" You asked in a whisper, but in the wake of silence, your words were clear as day.

"Not... usually," Ahk admitted sheepishly, tugging nervously at his clothes. "Um.. Amun? Have you possessed your statue?"

"In a way," he said, the deep vibrations of his voice humming painfully loud in the echo chamber. "I have my projected my thoughts and voice into this body, so I may give to you the gift of my presence... and so I may give you a message."

Despite the tremor in Ahkmenrah's hand, he kept himself steady, and looked up at the God as though he were any other regular person.

"What is your message, Hidden One?" He asked. 

"I desire your... pet," the God said, his eyes falling to you, clinging to the Pharaoh's side. You shrank further into yourself, nearly shaking with panic.

Amun was the creator God. Ahkmenrah could not say no––the pure outrage that would come from the citizens should he do that was deterrent enough for you to be assured of that.

But he stepped out in front of you, cradling you behind him as he glared upwards.

"Why?" He asked, his earlier reverence turned to suspicion.

"Do you dare to question my command?" Amun asked in return, the rims of his eyes beginning to glow an unearthly purple. Smoke filled his mouth, coming out in great billows and plumes, filling the ceiling as he appeared to grow taller.

"I want to know why," Ahk gritted out.

Amun paused, gauging both your expression and Ahkmenrah's, before speaking precise and clear.

"It possesses the knowledge of many cultures. I have tired of my consorts, my own pets, and their closed minds. Your pet is beautiful and knowledgeable," Amun said, kneeling to face you closer, "and I desire it for the afterlife."

Massive eyes met yours, peering over Ahk's comparatively tiny shoulder. They remained rooted for a moment, scanning what little of you they could see, before the God stood once more.

"I want you to kill it, preserve its' body as well as you can, and bury it for when I come to take it," he said.

"No."

Gasps sounded from the crowd, all the eyes on you chittering and murmuring at Ahkmenrah's gall.

"Tiny King," Amun growled, his hand reaching down to pick Ahk out from the crowd.

Before the thick fingers could pinch him, Ahk reached around to one of his nearby soldiers, pulling the sword from its' sheath and slicing the palm of the God. The gasps around you grew louder yet, people beginning to shuffle nervously as they doubted the will of their Pharaoh. Through the murmurings you heard shouts, taunts against Ahkmenrah, claims of sudden insanity.

"Give up the slave!" Came from somewhere behind you, which very nearly broke Ahk's concentration on Amun as his nails dug into his palm, teeth ground together.

"Someone take his sword!"

"Get him out of here!"

"Silence," commanded Amun, and the temple returned to quiet. "A cut will not stop me."

With that he reached forward, his massive hand brushing Ahk aside and grasping your middle, arms forced to your sides. Your breath caught in your throat, unable to yell as you were lifted from the ground.

"You had the choice to willingly serve me or anger me. Either way," he brushed the hair away from your face with his golden skin, "I will have Amoke for my own."

He smiled, soft, and terrifying, as he squeezed you tighter in his palm. The constriction cut off your ability to breathe, muscles pinching and twisting with the pressure.

"You have watched from afar my battles, that I am sure of," Ahkmenrah said. You looked down, desperation welling tears in your eyes as you met the gaze of the King, who had the face of the dead; dark, and dull, and absent of empathy. "Yet you don't know that I will destroy anything that comes between me and what I want."

"Funny," said Amun, "I'm the same way."

Ahk casted aside his sword, instead reaching for the many vases, pots, and basins of oil, throwing them all to the floor till both the offerings and marble floors were covered in holy oil. Confusion struck you till he reached for a torch, at which point you began to wriggle in the God's grasp. Ahkmenrah had done a number of stupid things, especially when it came to his relationship with you, but burning down a temple rung bad news to you.

He threw the torch to the ground, lighting the temple aflame with bursts of fire that burned red and orange. Already heat came to meet you, hitting your cheek and neck with waves of searing warmth, tinted with the smell of lavender and roses. Screams bounced off the walls, blurred by the crackling roar of fire. You watched, high above the crowd, as people scrambled towards the exit, desperately escaping the flames. Then your eyes fell, past the door, past the shrieking, to the Pharaoh, his face lit by fire, and his eyes darkened by the overwhelming shadow of his own crown.

"Fire cannot hurt a God," Amun spat, holding you closer to his chest.

"No," Ahk agreed, "but it can hurt your vessel."

"Gold doesn't melt by simple fire."

"Right again. But the stone on the inside of that frame does."

While they spoke, you began to feel the melting heat of stone surrounding you, burning you wherever your skin was bare. Panic seized you fiercely, quickening your breath till you barely felt your own chest heaving up and down. You cried out as the burning sensation turned to searing pain, melting and blistering the skin of your forearms.

From nowhere you were released, falling two meters from the sky to the ground. Ahk rushed past the burning pools of oil and piles of food, grasping your hand tight in his. Before either of you said anything, the agonized, broken yells of a God filled your head. It spiked and crackled, like explosions in your ears, ranging from deep, mechanical roars to high-pitches screeches that felt like nails dragging down from your eyes to your jaw. Through it all Ahk kept you running, heading for the wooden doors already set aflame. Pillars fell around you, crashing against the marble floor, and in the process causing the ground to tremble. The two of you nearly lost your balance, watching two massive pillars slowly falling to block the exit. He held your hand tighter yet, his pace increasing as yours did, the two of you bolting out of the hall. The moment you exited, the final pillars fell behind you, blocking the door and locking the God into the fiery temple.

Heavy pants filled your chest till it numbed, your teary eyes stinging in the cool, night air. Even through the thick stone you could hear Amun wailing and screeching, clawing at the walls of the temple till the marble gave way, tumbling to the floor and splintering upon impact. The sandstone bricks behind the marble kept him inside, leaving him to die within its' holy walls.

"Are you alright?" He asked, frantic hands and eyes scanning your body. First he held your face, then your neck, till he found the marks covering your forearms.

"I'm -"

"Ohhh dearest," he breathed out, his brow furrowed tight as he took your hands, holding them with a touch so gentle you barely felt it. "I'm so sorry, my dear. I didn't... oh dear.. does it hurt?"

You looked down, scanning over the seared flesh in the dim starlight.

"Not anymore," you said, confused at your own tolerance. "It just hurt at first."

"I'm so sorry, my love, I'm.. we'll get this bandaged up, all right?" He promised, looking you in the eye.

"Ahk, no one's going to help you," you said. His subjects wouldn't accept him back after that fiasco. No way.

"Piye will," he said assuredly, raising your hands to kiss your fingers. "That's all we need."

"Where are they?"

"Still in Thebes. It'll take us a little bit, so let's get some bandages first," he murmured, kissing your forehead.

He gingerly threaded his fingers in yours, assuring himself of you, before the two of you headed away from the desecrated temple. While he scanned the long, dark hallway for people, you noted the figures flanking the entrance, and tugged on Ahk's arm.

“He certainly lived up to his speech,” one of them said.

"I think your advisors are waiting to hand your ass to you," you whispered.

"Ah... fuck. My father himself is going to rise from the field of reeds to throw my ass in my face," he mumbled, chewing on his lip.

"When did you start swearing?" You asked, slightly befuddled.

"Usually when I get into dangerous situations," he said lowly, ducking behind one of the pillars as one of the figures shifted, "it starts up. Horrible habit. My mother tried to rid me of it but she was never quite successful."

"Apparently," you muttered beneath your breath, before helpfully pointing out that there were holes built into the ceiling to let natural light through.

"Perfect, darling," he said, pecking your cheek before reaching for the carved top of the pillars.

Once assured of his stability, he heaved himself upwards, catching the ledge outside before falling. From there he pulled himself up, scrambling onto the roof of the hallway. You attempted to go the same route, but your arms hardly reached the pillar's protrusions, and they were numb with pain. Seeing your trouble, he lay flat on the roof, hanging his arm down. You grasped tight as you could, and with help from your legs you clambered onto the roof.

Ahk huffed, brushed himself off, brushed you off, and only then continued on. From up there you could easily see the advisors and guards discussing, their hushed voices reaching you with little clarity. Spying would do you no good, and Ahk soon realized that, taking you back towards the temple.

In silence he climbed the rest of the way to the temple's roof, helping you up along the way. Your shadow stood before you, casted long but pale against the flat expanse of the roof, stretching out before you like a desert. This was the only area of the temple undecorated, left untouched and plain. It was a funny thought to realize that from above––from a God's view––the temple was as plain as white sand.

By descending far away from the entrance, the two of you avoided sight of his advisors in an act you realized he'd done many a time before. You wondered, watching him sneak along the ground, what kind of a child he was, and if you would've liked him better if you met him when he was younger. Though to be perfectly fair you liked him quite a lot already, unfortunate as it was.

Ever aware of your wound, he led you by a hand on your back, instead of the usual taking hold of your hand. Keeping your footsteps quiet proved hard in the loose rocks, but with your slow pace you safely made it to the boathouse he led you to.

"Here," he whispered, ushering you into the room. He glanced outside, scanning for anyone present, before carefully closing the door and turning back to you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could do so he was pushing you into a chair, hushing you softly. Mildly offended, but more importantly confused, you watched as he rifled through boxes of storage. Most of your questions were answered when he pulled out bandages. Alongside that, he pulled out a small pot of honey, which you yourself had used before to treat infections.

"I am truly sorry, my dear," he said as he knelt before you, unravelling the linen. "I never meant for anyone to get hurt."

"Except Amun."

"Well... yes, there is that," he mumbled abashedly, chuckling.

For a little while you watched in silence as he gingerly wrapped your arms up, careful not to touch the sticky, pale wound with his fingers. Honey kept the linen from burning or attaching to heavily to your skin.

"Why did you do that?" You asked, your voice cracking in your attempt to keep quiet.

"What? Did I wrap it wrong?" He asked, looking up with wide, expectant eyes.

"No, not that, the –"

"The burning thing?"

"Yes, kind of," you said. "You hurt your God."

"It's alright, he's not the only one we've got," he chuckled.

"That's not the point," you hissed, increasingly irritated with his jokes. He laughed at your annoyance, but finally calmed down enough to speak seriously.

"Amoke, the Gods are eternal. They have time to know everything, to have everything. We are not. We have a limited amount of time to enjoy ourselves. I think Amun can wait another hundred years till you die. I can't. Do you understand that?" He said, his hand cradling your face as he knelt between your legs, praying to your reverent eyes. "I don't mind fighting for the things in this world that I own. Because until I die, I am wholly of this plane, and such earthly things are all I have."

You swallowed through a tight throat before nodding. A small smile replaced the worried knot in his brow, and he returned carefully to the task at hand.

White linen soon coated the entirety of both your upper arms, spots of honey and blood rarely peeking through the wraps. He was finally finished, the ends tucked away, preventing it from unravelling when you moved. For a moment you sat still, waving your arms up and down experimentally.

"Thank you," you said as you stood, looking down at the couple blisters along your hands.

"Of course, dear," he said, kissing the top of your head. "Piye will do a much better job. I just don't want it to get infected on the way there."

Seeing as your temporary hideout was a boathouse, it was relatively easy to get a boat. The process was a combination of 'don't let the wood creak beneath you,' 'lay down on the dock, there's someone coming,' and 'untie that knot faster'. Your aching hands were no fit for any small, involved work, so Ahk made himself useful by both releasing the canoe from the dock and rowing it away from shore.

Despite being almost-passed-out tired, you couldn't doze on the boat, too paralyzed by the rocking waves. Ahk noticed––of course he did––but could do little to comfort you. All he had to provide was the information that this wouldn't take long; thirty minutes or so, he said.

To find ease in something, you looked off the edge of the boat to the rippling, black water. Though the stars shined above you, you could barely see them in the river. Instead you found your reflection staring back up at you, unblinking.

"It's not healthy to stare at yourself too long. Drives some insane," Ahk commented in a hum.

"As if you don't spend an hour every morning looking at yourself in the mirror."

"Ouch. Fair point."

Stumbling back onto land was easier than usual, but keeping your balance on the dock was a little harder. Ahk told you to sit down while he tied the boat up, which you did, but only after nearly tripping over a stray rope.

"We shouldn't exclude the possibility that Piye, and perhaps the rest of the Thebes, already knows of what we've done," Ahk said, looking out from the dark shore to the torch-lit city.

"And if they do?"

"Um... we'll get to that when we get there," he said with a sharp breath, his eye still set on the lights. "Let's go, hm? Nice and quiet."

You nearly laughed at his behavior, but a glance to his expression had you sobered. His teeth were digging into his lip, more than usual, and it looked rather painful.

"Ahk?" You said, grasping his arm to halt him. He turned to you, his stress gone, and looked you in the eye. "Are.. are you alright?"

He continued to stare at you for a moment, before saying, "yes! I, um, I'm alright. Thank you."

"... okay," you said doubtfully. He was clearly lying, but you didn't want to seem as though you cared too much, and you could always ask later on.

Keeping low to the ground, just as before, the two of you managed to sneak into the city without being noticed. It was an even more impressive feat considering your clothes jangled with every movement, overcrowded with jewels. Torches had you struck with fear several times, recalling each time the gold swirls of Ahk dancing, and terrified the light would shine too bright off the Pharaoh.

Without attracting too much attention, you made it safely to Piye's housing, placed within a large garden beside several other similar-looking houses. First he looked in through the windows, but ultimately found nothing.

"I'm sure it's fine if we just go inside," Ahk said with a dismissive shrug, tugging on the handle.

"Um –"

"Don't worry, Amoke," he said, directing you inside. "I've known Piye since I was ten. They won’t mind."

Your mouth pressed into a thin line, anxiously looking around the dark room for any sign of movement. Such was your anxiety that when Ahk closed the door behind him, you jumped, long nails digging deep into your palms.

"Careful there," he said as he passed by you, heading towards the fireplace.

He knelt on the ground, his beautiful skirt dirtied on the soot and dirt collected on the hearth. Pulling out several tools from nearby, he soon started a fire, this time much tamer and controlled.

Fire.

Why did the sight of it root you to the spot?

Warmth seeped into the room, gently easing your tight, cold muscles, and asking you to step nearer. Your teeth dug into your cheek, but you fought your impulse and sat nearby on the floor. As you drew your knees to your chest, Ahk scooted over to your side, gently putting your head on his shoulder.

"I swear, I'll -"

The muffled sound of yelling began to ring from the entrance of the garden. You and Ahk immediately looked to one another with wide eyes as you listened, trying to make out the words.

"Osiris won't be enough –– wrangle that –– stuff you in a grave!"

Splinters flew as the door wrenched open, slamming against the wall and bounding back to nearly hit Piye in the face. Fortunately, Piye, being tall and vigilant as they were, caught it without breaking their menacing stare at Ahk. Ahk on the other hand was rooted to the spot, staring up at the enraged magician.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Piye yelled, forcing the door shut behind them before approaching Ahk with a vindication you rarely saw. "You think you can just attack a God and your people will still love you? You're not above the deities, Ahkmenrah. You're their vessel and they will strike you down for this disrespect!"

"I'm not going to let an innocent person die because some God wants a plaything," Ahk said firmly, keeping his ground.

"You don't get a choice. Don't forget you're a temporary ruler of this world. The Gods control everything and everyone," Piye said, roughly jabbing Ahk in the chest with their finger.

"Piye has a point," you said.

"Amoke, d –"

"They're going to get their way eventually. Why fight it?" You asked, a question that had the two of them quiet for a moment.

"I will fight for every last second I can have with you. If need be I will slay my people for one more minute in your presence," he said as he once more knelt before you, taking your hands in his. "I will burn down this world for one last kiss."

There was a fervor in his eyes unlike anything you'd seen before––bright, brilliantly so, yet lusting for something not in the realm of the holy. Something much more sinister; a lust not for flesh, but for the blood within it. He would keep his word. You knew then and there, staring into those bright, empty eyes, that he would sooner destroy his cities than let you go.

He would keep his word.

"Don't," you barely whispered out.

"I would," he said with the same softness, directing you to look back at him when your eyes strayed.

"I know."

Wooden planks creaked as Piye shifted their weight, crossing their arms as they watched your spectacle.

"I allowed this for a long while," Piye said, their voice drawing Ahk's face away from hiding in your lap. "I let you steal an innocent person. Now I see I should've stopped it from the beginning. You've grown too attached, Ahk. You have responsibilities bigger than yourself, and there are certain things you cannot indulge. Certain pleasures you cannot partake in."

Not once had the Pharaoh looked to Piye. Instead his gaze remained enraptured in yours, dreamy as it was bittersweet.

"And if I abandon my position as King?" He asked, a smile growing across his face as he carefully watched your reaction. Behind him, however, Piye's own expression fell, arms unwinding as they stared stupefied at the Pharaoh.

"Your father would never forgive you," Piye said, much quieter through the tension built in their throat.

"So what? He's dead."

"Merenkahre might not have been a fantastic King but he was still your father, and he cared about you."

"- a care that was most certainly conditional, seeing as how he treated my brother," Ahk pointed out.

"Your brother killed thirteen servants!! I think that's a little different!" Piye seethed, lean muscles in their hands tensing as they spoke through gritted teeth.

"Yes, listen, Amoke got hurt in that little temple fiasco. I was hoping you could help them," Ahk said, finally turning to face Piye.

"Oh. Of course, come here," Piye mumbled, ushering you over. "I'm sorry you got tangled in his mess. I'm sure you don't want to be here."

"Oh, well -" you began only to be interrupted.

"I'll be very pleased to remind you that Amoke willingly joined me this time!"

"'This time,'" Piye mocked. "Oooh, your little plaything actually wanted to be remotely near you one time."

"First off, ouch, second off, you enjoyed it, didn't you Amoke? I mean, besides the whole melting arm debacle," Ahk said, peering over Piye's to see you.

A long, tense silence stretched when you couldn't find an answer, and instead decided to focus on Piye's treatments.

"My Gods," Piye muttered once all the wrappings were off, which was not a good thing to hear from a doctor when they're examining you.

"What? What's wrong?" You quickly asked, eyes darting between the wrappings, your wound, and Piye's concerned expression.

"Nothing, it's just... this is a pretty severe wound. I'm surprised you still have fingers," they said, shaking their head to clear it.

After taking a deep breath, they took one of your hands, holding it up close to their eye.

"I'm going to have to do some... experimental magic for this. Are you alright with that?"

"What happens if it goes wrong?" You asked, a creeping suspicion on the edge of your words.

"I'd imagine either nothing or you'll have arms made of flowers."

You paused to silently debate it, but took little time deciding.

"Alright," you agreed.

"Wonderful. Give me a moment," they said, and began to mutter verses beneath their breath, eyelids closing over glowing eyes.

You looked to Ahk with an astonished look, your mouth hanging open. He just shrugged, unable to give you an answer before Piye reemerged, no longer glowing in their eyes. Now their palms were glowing, surrounding your burnt arm.

"Repeat after me," they said. "I am this pure lotus which went forth from the sunshine."

You repeated them.

"–– which is at the nose of Re; I have descended --"

"–– that I may seek it for Horus ––"

"–– for I am the pure one who issued from the fen."

Heat came from the tip of your tongue, nearly burning as you spoke the last word. With a racing heart, you opened your eyes, immediately drawn to the blue and purple embers rising from your arm. Streams of light soon came from the wounds, blossoming into solid shapes that built the petals of blue lotus flowers.

Every inch of skin that was scarred, burned, blistered, or melted off had been infested with flowers, growing so thick that they puffed out like kinky hair.

"Is it... supposed to do that?" You asked hesitantly.

"It's not.. not supposed to do that," Piye suggested, which was also not a comforting thing to be told.

Either way, you made your way back to your previous seat, your hands folded neatly in your lap as you slouched down. Piye made to grab something from the mantle, but ultimately sighed deeply and flopped down on the floor beside you and Ahk.

"What are we going to do, Ahk?" They asked, leaning forward with their chin balanced on their palm.

"... you're going to help me?" Ahk murmured as he perked up.

"Yes," said Piye bitterly, "of course. But I'm not going to enjoy it."

[cupsofsuga]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ━ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 *:·。.

{ ⚠️} WARNING - This is a yandere au, meaning the following may be triggering to some viewers.  I am not trying to discriminate the boys in any way, this is for entertainment purposes. Viewer discretion is advised!!!

{ 💐} REQUEST - ❝ Can I have the boys reactions to an s/o who show her possessiveness by wearing their clothes ? She's all happy and proud to go to the university or whatever wearing their shirt because " That way everyone will know that I'm yours and you're mine , plus it smells like you 🥺 " ❞

{ ☕️} NOTE - thank you so so much for requesting, dollface!

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊𝐉𝐈𝐍

━━━ November’s essence kisses the air of your living room, it’s fierce caress trailing across your skin. You, ever so intelligently, stated with pride that you could handle the cold, regretting the choice as the embers of moonlight trace their fingertips across naked goosebumps. Strolling through the halls of your home, shivering from the sharp wind, you find your bedroom with intentions of retrieving some form of warmth. You discover a grey hoodie, lethargically tossed over a chair. The owner’s identity is quickly exposed, as the sweatshirt descends down your form due to your lover’s broad shoulders. You have now found solace, drowned in the scent of cologne.

Oh, and the blush that blooms beat-red across Jin’s cheeks is a sight you’ll never forget.

Following that occurrence (and the rest of the night spent smothered in your boyfriend’s lily-pure affection), you’ve taken notice of Jin’s not-so-subtle efforts to usher you into wearing his clothes again. At first, it began with leaving articles of clothing in numerous places, but that plan backfired as you silently scolded him under your breath for not tidying up after himself. This strategy escalated into Jin planting his clothes in your drawer’s, then claiming it was an “accident” or "a way to save space.” The red hues painting his ears and the way he avoids eye-contact jeopardizes his weak filter, though. At least you find his everlasting, spring-scented infatuation beneath the facade of damp rain and rotten trees. Be careful, though. If you venture too deep into the depths of Kim Seokjin and you’ll find sights of crimson-stained sins.

❝ God, you have way too much power over me, y’know? I’m always so soft for you, ‘fucking moron. ❞

𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈

━━━ The evening mist glides through the brume of your boudoir, where you are embraced by the neglected clothes of your boyfriend like snow sleeping on a pine tree. After a particularly cold night strikes your studio apartment, the empty sheets and abandoned blankets failed to bring the solace of the sweltering summer-warmth your lover possesses. You yearned for Yoongi and the moonlight, the coffee stains, and stormy nights that kiss his form. The rhythmic melody of his gentle voice; the crow’s caress that wanders his skin. And despite his overbearing worry and protectiveness that you’ve brushed off as “concern for your health,” you crave those December eyes and that feeble heart. Fortunately for you, your knight in shining armor didn’t venture too far away. And finding you nestled under numerous covers causes worry to immediately swell within his heart.

His concern is distinctly evident, as his shrill voice of distress invades the midnight breeze. You swear you feel him shiver with dread when he feels how frigid you are when he shakily takes your hand into his. And before you express your refusal to his care, Yoongi vanishes from the bedroom to draw you a bath. If you think he’s exaggerating your discomfort due to the November weather, think again. Your name is then sung into the air, blossoming into the twilight’s brume as you escape the warmth of your bed and stroll to your lover. Before you, you’ll find the hot water adorned in bubbles and flower petals, candles littered around the room (far from the tub, for your safety), melodies of violin and piano reverberating through the area, and the sugary caresses from your Yoongi as the cherry on top. Whilst adorned in the blissful harmony of peace, you can't help but let your mind wander. His worry has always been grand, so grand that you fear his heart may actually stop beating if your safety was ever at stake.

Oh, well, at least he cares. Maybe a little too much.

❝ My Y/N, if you ever, ever need anything, I will always be right here… Always… ❞

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊

━━━ Finding your boyfriend nestled under a canopy of your clothing was never a shock, as your scent of cheap whiskey and jasmines beneath the August sun lulled his soul to ease. The sultry high he’s given when inhaling another article of clothing is euphoric, infinite. To breathe in your musk is to find an eternal night beneath the purple rain; to drown in the depths of you is to savor the stars as they breathe out the dust of twilight. There’s a garden that thrives around the simple presence of your fragrance and Hoseok can’t imagine a greater bliss that is your essence. That is until he finds you draped in one of the many sweaters he owns, the red threading like Autumn against your form.

He was always swift to recognize his infatuation, but to know the emotions he immerses himself into are mutual emits a variety of nymphs to tangle themselves with his heartbeat. He feels the rhythms of sunlight as they batter against his ribcage and nothing, nothing is as ecstatic as this.

Twilight has occurred, the moonlight bleeds through the glass panes and hits your eyes ever so elegantly. It reflects a soft radiance as if the moon was swimming in your irises. You are beautiful, lying on the couch with his sweater on like a stray cat who will soon vanish into the arms of the night. It was no secret that Hoseok adored seeing you in his clothes, as his boisterous admiration morphed into suffocating infatuation. There was even a time where you reached into the pocket of his sweater during class and find a folded piece of paper containing a sweet note (that was just a tad bit creepy) along with doodles of hearts, flowers, cats, and dogs. Hoseok's love may cut deep with its shattered-lily touch, but it is entirely pure. Despite the obsession seeping through his affections, he loves you more than you could ever possibly know.

❝ Hey, isn’t it crazy how after all this time, you still manage to give me so many butterflies? I… I think I’m gonna love you forever… ❞

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍

━━━ You anticipate for your lover to return to your home, stumbling around the adobe in utter boredom. Although this lifeless night is all too dull, you notice how the penthouse you wander around resembles a palace. With its crystalline chandeliers and marble tiles, its paradisiac view of the city that never sleeps and melodies of chefs and maids rustling around the residence. Through the lavish estate, you find the bedroom, embellished in opulent riches of all kinds. Then, there’s the closet, decked out to the brim in treasures of Gucci, Chanel, and Prada. There’s jewelry, bags, shoes, nearly every single article of clothing an item you couldn’t dream of affording in your past, mundane life. Your eyes settle on a blazer, exquisitely threaded with the finest of silks nestled deep within the closet.

The coat is a tad bit too large for your form, but you believe it fits you like a glove. And despite there being a faint stain of spilled champagne on the sleeve, coming home to his summer sunset wearing his attire like its armor, Namjoon has never tasted bliss as divine as this.

The skies once painted baby blue morph into the dark hues of twilight. Night has come, euphoria has been found within the tendrils of your hair on his chest and the littering of bubblegum-pink kisses across your skin. For reasons Namjoon can’t define, seeing you in his clothes causes his heart to tremble and plummet. There’s this sudden veil of exhilaration, like a July night spent with your record collection and red wine. It’s an enchantment that aches deep within his chest, where the desire to submerge you in his affections burns within his heart. He gazes at your now sleeping form, naming off every detail of you that he loves so much like he’s counting dollar bills in his hands. His moonlight’s essence, his lavender’s breath, his garden full of violets. You have taught him how to live without rain and he can’t gift you enough gratitude for this blessing. But, just don’t be surprised when you find your closet covered in dust. You’re only allowed to wear his clothes from now on.

❝ Damn, blue is an outstanding color on you. Maybe that should be the color for our wedding… Wait- shit! I-I-I didn’t say anything! ❞

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍

━━━ Upon the surface of your bed, the voice of rain trembles against the thin roof above you. Tree branches sway with the heavy wind, lightning lashes like a whip against the evening floor. You feel the nightly embrace of bitter inclemency, as the earthly musk swims around the bedroom. Despite finally having a night alone, you notice yourself longing for the tumultuous warmth of your lover. A single night spent in isolation, Jimin didn’t take it lightly. After all, what is life without the iridescence of a Summer’s kiss? How can he breathe without immersing himself within the depths of his angel’s orchestra? You can assume what thoughts of hunger are rumbling through the boy’s mind, but you are oblivious to the saturated sound of Jimin weeping into his cold flesh.

You retrieve one of his sweaters in the meantime, inhaling his fragile scent of honey and moonflowers. He must be adorned in several layers of just your clothes, you joke to yourself. The enchantment of the rain’s melody and the fragrance of your boyfriend then lulls you into slumber, to where you then awake the following morning to dawn painting the optimistic face of Jimin.

Finding you in his sweater, knowing you had missed him, he had blushed like a tomato ready to harvest, that confident and broad facade melting like ice cream, to where he became a sugary puddle of flowering feelings and summer velvet. He looked like a young schoolboy who had received a love letter in his locker, as the blood of Aphrodite paints his cheeks rosy and utter bewitchment has him smiling like a lovestruck idiot. As you then regain consciousness, you are then smothered in Jimin’s affections. He kisses you everywhere wild as if leaving a single inch of skin unloved would kill him. He’ll even go as far as to order a shirt that reads “JIMIN + Y/N 5EVER” or just straight-up purchasing a conjoined sweater, so you’ll never be separated ever again. It is insane how infatuated he is, yes, but there is not a single soul within our universe that could cherish you as utterly as he does. And Jimin will walk with that fact to the grave.

❝ Ngh! No, don’t leave! Stay in bed, just for a couple more minutes! Maybe even a couple more hours, please…? A couple days…? ❞

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆

━━━ October has bloomed, the saturated leaves are painted damp as rain kisses the earth below. You have lost track of the months settled within the isolated cottage, but enough time has been spent for your new boyfriend to grant you the privilege of taking a hike (with his presence alongside yours, of course). To stay warm within the frigid weather, you encounter one of Taehyung’s sweaters, arm sleeve hung over the side of the hamper. As the clothing sits on your form, you immerse yourself in the expensive musk of your lover. He smells like a century spent in the clouds with peaches and fairies; he smells like Autumn as pumpkin pie and Halloween nights essence dances with the ghosts in the attic. It is ethereal the way summer’s affection seems to litter the fragrance he dresses with.

Upon seeing you standing beneath the rickety door frame, adorned in his moss-colored sweater, Taehyung had blushed with utter joy and bewilderment. He had nearly dropped the midnight-black umbrella in his hands, stunned upon witnessing you in attire as mere as his coat.

After a stroll through the empty fields beneath the rainfall (and hearing the shutter of a camera for the umpteenth time), you retreat to your humble adobe. The following night is spent in blissful harmony, where you’ll sleep beneath the canopy of stars, locked within his daisy-chain embrace. You are his scarlet kingdom, his summer’s honey, his garden adorned in fineries such as nymphs and emeralds and birdsong. As dawn blossoms in the sky, you awake alone within silken sheets, the revelation peculiar. As you regain consciousness and study the sunlit bedroom, you find Taehyung’s clothes folded neatly on the end of the bed, drenched heavily in cologne. You nearly cough from the intensity, studying the note rested on top, where your partner exclaims he needed to run for groceries in calligraphy. Besides this note, however, is a necklace with a vial swung upon the string. With closer inspection, you come to the horrifying conclusion that the crimson fluid within the glass was his blood. You now shall never be apart again, not with Taehyung right beside your beating heart.

❝ Oh, Y/N, to spent everyday with you like this, it’s like everything I’ve lost has returned home to me. You truly are a blessing, my love… ❞

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊

━━━ It is a muggy Wednesday morning, where fog coats the floor of dawn, and the dense breeze embraces the earth’s redolence. Today is frigid, as the embers of the piercing winds kiss your honeyed skin. You can’t help but long for Summer to return home, where the sky turns pink in its sugary excellence and where you’ll find youthful infatuation on the curb of Cherry Street, like two poodles whose leashes have entangled beneath the Eiffel Tower. With philosophies of sweltering fantasies, you clutch a leather jacket, oblivious to its owner. Into the grey forest of high school, you’ll find every fragment of boredom known to mankind. But, throughout the dull conditions, at least you have your Jungkook.

Catching sight of you in his jacket causes a heavenly glow to inflate his heart, the essence of clouds and angel’s tears scattering his soul. It feeds into his possessiveness as if he was marking you with his scent, claiming you like a wolf would with his mate.

From thereon, you take notice of Jungkook’s subtle efforts to indulge you within his scent. His affections morphed from shy, rosy-pink compliments to physical touches, as if clasping onto you would drown out the musk of all those heathens you call “friends.” Your scent of moonlit harmonies and dusk in California had since dissolved into his scent of melting chocolate and cigarette smoke. His possessive tendencies may be extreme (like that time he snuck into your closet at 4 in the morning and perfumed every article of clothing with his cologne), but his intentions are ever so pure. You are his siren song, his sunset gaze, his purple rain. You are everything to this boy, with galaxies burning within your chest and distant realities snaking their way through your soul. Within the heart of Jeon Jungkook, you live inside Eden's garden, crafted just for you. And there’s only so much time before he scoops you into his embrace and never let's go.

❝ … You smell different… Who is it? Who have you been talking to? What is that blonde I always see you with? I swear, I’ll gouge out his eyeballs with a plastic spoon and force him to eat them!! ❞

[araingirl]

Zenith and Nadir: Arousal

Warning: 18+ Content! 

The first week of July it was. The season was summer but it was raining cats and dogs outside. Little by little, the arid, yearning earth was fulfilling her throat with the divine downpour showering from heaven, penetrating the ink-smeared barrier of the night. Through the dense forest of the clouds, the fierce, ferocious tigers of lightning were roaring, their reflections falling on the mirrors of the puddles gathering on the drenched ground. Black, obscure, enigmatic raindrops were trickling down from the fresh green, scintillated leaves, one by one, without any hurry. The resonations of the thunderbolts were earsplitting, shaking everyone who was awake, by fits and starts. The stray cats and dogs, barely saving themselves from the rain by taking shelter under trees or half-open shutters of the shops, were shivering violently in cold.

Even in the mid-summer, the unexpected, yet, welcoming coldness was prevailing everywhere-except one gigantic, duplex house of Japan. The abrupt heat had attacked the body of the slate-haired phoenix-prince in the same morning, without giving him a warning. Needling sensations were torturing the joints of his body like hell. Clenching his teeth, he was clasping the pillow and lying down on his bed, his bare, well-toned back facing the ceiling. Then again, the pain turned into pleasure, he moaned, absorbed in it when two slender arms crawled his midriff like a pair of cobras, enveloping his naked trunk as her manicured fingers pressed his hard, stiff flesh, like kneading the dough of bread-giving him a comfortable massage which could never be refused. Yes, Kai Hiwatari was soft as dough to those ten fingers, no matter how firm he was outside, even surpassing the grey sarsens.

A new guest pervaded, shaking the base of his patience. It was the pair of her soft, strawberry lips, travelling on the bullet wound on his waist. The burning lamp hanging from the window swung violently in a periodic pace, left and right, right and left in the rhythm of the rain and thunderbolt. His cheeks flushed; the temperature of his feverish body increased. Wasn’t the back massage enough? What was she trying to do? Taking his pain and giving him another fever? The whimper of carnal pleasures escaped from his parted lips as he closed his eyes, clutching the bedsheet tightly and getting goosebumps, sensing her intense, heated breaths near his neck, teasing him and running through his creek-like, a bit deep back dent.

He turned back as the slender brunette rode on his flat, solid abs, sprawling her lean, fair thighs to both of the sides. Putting off her skin-tight, sleeveless black top and letting her c-cup, soft breasts bedecked with faint, rose-colored nipples like cherries on the top of cakes glow in the half-illuminated room, under the seafoam green dimlight, she leaned towards him, ruby eyes twinkled in carnal desires as the fire of feminine hormones burnt all over her body, reaching the erected manhood of her husband too. Kai didn’t blink, giving his amethysts a chance to enjoy her ethereally sensual beauty that violently slammed on the door of his heart. It got literally broken when her lips crashed his, polished nails pinching his fair nipples of his mesomorphic chest and tickling his skin. The lips, bit by bit, were absorbing all his fever as tongue pushed his, torturing his taste buds with their sour-sweet strawberry-like flavor.

When you came in front of me

My heart started to beat fast

It's not your fault

It's the fault of my eyes

The thing that you fear

I'll do that and prove it to you

Don't look at me like this

I'll embrace you

I'll steal you from yourself

I'll hide you in my heart

Don't look at me like this

I'll embrace you

I'll steal you from yourself

I'll hide you in my heart…

Magically turning the saliva of each other into irresistible, strong flavors of wines as well as savoring them, they parted for breath, especially the breathless Russian suffering from a fever. Hilary’s hand progressed towards the wine bottle kept on the side-table but her husband immediately held her wrist, firmly shaking his head into a stern “No”. Hilary bit her tongue and grabbed the crystal jug of water instead. From it, the cold water drizzled on the slight deep neck-dent of the Russian which was just like a niche of hilly areas. The mini fountain cascaded from it, falling on his chest and round shoulders. When the lips of the brunette sucked from them, Kai shivered. Only she had the ability to turn water into fire, spreading it all over his skin. Hilary’s eyes were closed, she was in pure bliss because only her husband knew how to make intoxicating wine from pure, blameless water.

But when was it Kai’s nature to be dominated only, no matter how much he was enjoying it to be seduced by the brunette? A second passed within a blink, and…the brunette was right under him, pinned between his robust, twisted biceps. Grabbing the silver desert eagle, he stroked her curves with its tube, her skin with it, very slowly, from her face to her legs. Hilary moaned, grabbing the blanket and closing her eyes since each and every hair of her skin stood up, honoring the unavoidable, delicious, pleasant masculinism of her husband. Kai threw the pistol aside; his sturdy fingers were enough. Eventually some of them lunged in her silky, open chocolate locks, splayed across the warm pillow and the others kneaded her orange-shaped breasts, very gently. Lips weaved butterfly kisses through the joint of her beauty bones and shoulders, turning the night into a heaven…no, a blissful hell.

They captured her twinkling, rose nipples as the tip of tongue teased them, totally revenging and making it up for the battle against her tongue before a few minutes which he’d lost miserably. She hissed, clutching his head tightly closer to her chest as his nose dived into his bottomless cleavage, nudging there affectionately. Her fingers got intertwined around his as she pulled away his trousers with the help of her toes, bending her knees only a bit. Despite being busy in adoring and fondling her soft mounds, Kai’s hands didn’t forget to undo her bottoms too, throwing them away from the bed. Lost in the forbidden paradise of fleshly desires, Hilary smirked, noticing that her husband was never the one to accept defeat even though he was in a fever.

Before you, I've not seen

Anyone like you...

I'd not thought I'll be dead

As soon as I saw you...

I wish my night passes

In your arms,

And in you only somewhere,

Even my morning passes.

A hard, yet, unheard gasp escaped from the mouth of the brunette as she sensed the presence of his member inside the cavern of her pleasure which was literally on fire. Her nails got dunked into his shoulders, he was careful-not crushing her with the weight of his brawny body. His torso throbbed, the tight thighs shook violently with the cadence of his thick, stiff, erected manhood in her vagina, teasing her clits too sometimes by rubbing them. The rain roared more violently along with the thunderbolts outside, raging to crush the earth, yet, filling with all kinds of pleasures for which she was craving-in the sweltering summer heat. Still, her fingers were captive to his ones, lying flatly on the bed and juddering. Earthquake? Yeah, it was already evident in their room.

I didn't stop the emotions that arose in my heart

I didn't stop the emotions that arose in my heart

I didn't hinder my footsteps that led towards you

When I'm with you

Even my restlessness finds some rest

When I drown in you

My heart finds its balance

When I'm with you

Even my restlessness finds some rest

When I drown in you

My heart finds its balance

The thing that you fear

I'll do that and prove it to you…

[chinatea]

Jikook Sexy Alien AU Part 1

Personas are a product of @satellite-jeon​ ‘s beautiful mind.

This is WIP and still pretty drafty, and I’ll be posting new parts to tumbler as I finish them. I’m planning 4-5 parts overall. 

For my best girl @kmheart​ <3333 Thank you for loving this mess. <333

Warnings: Coarse language.

Jungkook doesn’t know exactly when his life took a dive from awesome to downright shitty.

And even if he did, he wouldn’t be telling that story any time soon ‘cause no one gives a rat’s arse about good ol’ boy Jungkook who scrubs pools for a living. 

It didn’t start that way. In high school, he was a local superstar. The golden jock. The whole fucking trope, baby. With titties of all caliber following him everywhere. Boy did love him some pussy. Dicks, too. He loved everything to do with sex, drugs and rock’n’roll.

He believed himself invincible and it was only a matter of time before he mingled with the wrong crowd. Only back then, he thought of them as friends. His bros for life.

Well.

Now, he cleans pools - the only kind of gig he can scrounge up nowadays, what with a criminal record and whatnot - and trusts no bro. 

And when he’s not cleaning pools, he’s stuck at the garage being bossed around by a dirtbag who happens to be his uncle. His uncle, Sunmu, hates his guts - one of those stupid homophobic fucks who can’t mind their own fucking business. Needless to say, no love lost.

As much as Jungkook wants to punch his stupid teeth out - what’s left of them anyhow - he needs the money and it’s not like his uncle can do much more than run his smelly farthole of a mouth. Which he does. At lengths. The dude just never shuts up. Until one day, Jungkook made him shut up - even his golden-boy patience has its limits. And the dude blew up, called the police, the neighbors came a-running, the whole nine yards.

One hell of a shitshow, that night.

So now, Jungkook has taken to bringing guys to fuck in his garage instead. Totally intentional. He knows the geezer, like the sick fuck he is, had cameras installed all over for his own perverse pleasure. So Jungkook lets him enjoy it while he can.

‘Cause once the summer ends, Jungkook will burn down his fucking shack and hit the road, because he’s this close to being done with the shitfucks that are hell bent on ruining his life.

Another day. Another mindless grind.

Luckily for him, the client has vacated the house for the day, leaving their big pool in his capable hands. A much welcome break from those rich fucks being all smug and pissy and all up in his grill about every little nothing. 

Rich tits always think they know everything.

Not to mention their shitty kids running around, destroying his equipment and yapping his ear off. Or worse yet, their old haggy wives flashing their saggy tits at him - goodness gracious, does his face say he’s into wrinkled-ass pussy or something?

He thinks the fuck not.

Jungkook plops down on a deck chair and pops a can of coke open, taking a long chug. When he doesn’t have people looming over his ass, he prefers taking things slow. At his own pace. That’s what he’s all about. 

As much as he could wrap things up faster and call it a day, he’s not looking forward to trudging back to the garage. Sunmu the dipshit would be there, of course, nagging at him with this shit or that and he’d rather chill out here - the house is off-limits, locked tight, but the scenery is gorgeous. The house sits on a cliff, with the pool area overlooking the city below. 

It’s private and quiet and damn therapeutic. Like, he could just close his eyes and pretend it’s all his. That he’s not a broke-ass dude about to keel over any day now, but someone who is in control of his life. 

And he does just that. Closes his eyes and leans back, cradling the coke to his chest like one does a lover.

Mind blank of any thought.

The sky above crackles in warning, too close for comfort. And it wakes up goosebumps along his skin as he jostles awake from his little moment of inner peace. His hands flap around, knocking his coke over - it drips all over his tank top. 

Nice, Jungkook thinks. 

Of-fucking-course, it must rain today of all days. He scrambles up to his feet, ready to start hauling all the gear back into his truck when IT happens.

At first, he is not even sure what IT even is. One moment, he’s one grouchy mess, spewing dozens of profanities at no one in particular while tugging at his stained top in a retarded attempt to shake the mess off. And the next-

Something, fairly massive and spherical, materializes a few inches above the pool before plunging into water like a dead weight. Jungkook can only manage an undignified squawk before the impact wave sends him flying into the thorny shrubs framing the pool.

Mother-fucker.

When he drags his ass back from the shrubs, drenched from head to toe and covered in scratches, all he knows is that his stained shirt is the least of his problems now, because this…

What the fuck is this? he thinks, staring agog at the offender, hogging the pool now.

It looks like…something.

Maybe a futuristic car or a flying vessel of some sort. He has no clue, really. What it is or where it came from, but it’s here, right in his face, obstructing his work. Like a bastard.

He’ll have to call up a tow truck or something to pluck this sucker out, which will take forever and there go his plans for Friday night out.

Jungkook walks around the pool, inspecting the strange contraption from all sides. It’s slick and round and very, very chrome. Perhaps - a submarine. Some ultra-slick technology with masking abilities. Which apparently can fly, but not very well, otherwise, how the fuck it’d ended up stuck in his pool.

Those rich fucks and their stupid malfunctioning toys, eh. 

Jungkook sighs and kicks the empty coke can lying about. It flies off towards the pod, ricocheting right off its shiny cask with a sharp clank. And now he has even more trash to dredge up from the puddle bellow. What joy.

As he is about to roll over and wail in self-pity, the pod wakes up with a tremor, sending shallow ripples over the water. Jungkook freezes, frantically thinking over his choices - his gut reaction is to hightail the fuck out of here, because the thing is starting to show signs of life and it doesn’t sit well with Jungkook, not one bit.

He better scram and scram fast. Fuck the money and his uncle - especially his uncle - no one told him scrubbing pools involved close encounters of the third kind.

He makes to do just that but doesn’t make it too far as he bumps into someone, loosing his balance and sending them both to the ground. With a groan, he opens his eyes to stare at the unfortunate soul who had to bear the brunt of the fall on their- his. 

It’s definitely a he. A he so stunning Jungkook’s jaw goes slack and his brain radio-silent. Meanwhile, the he doesn’t waste any time making the most of their proximity as he slithers his hands around Jungkook’s neck and presses against him in a soft sweet kiss.

A supernova goes off at the back of his skull. 

It was awesome.

“Hello,” the other says, a quality to his voice that is out of this world. He must be out of this world, because how?

“I’m Jimin.”

“Hi,” Jungkook says.

A dumb grin takes over his face.

He’s tingly all over. He thinks he’s in love. 

“You’re gorgeous, Jimin-ah. Will you marry me?”

“Marry?” Jimin says tentatively as if testing the word on his tongue. His lips are pretty and full, forming a perpetual pout. It’s adorable. “I can’t marry. I need to mate.”

“Oh.” That throws Jungkook for a loop, as his heart swells with emotion. “Mate who?”

“You,” Jimin smiles. “Serendipity has chosen you as the most suitable candidate within this quadrant of our galaxy. We’re compatible.”

“Wow,” Jungkook whispers. He understands jack shit, but it does feel like serendipity, doesn't it. Just a moment ago, he was one miserable son of a bitch and now…he’s the luckiest son of a bitch in the whole fucking quadrant of their galaxy. 

“You do know I’m scrubbing pools for a living, right?”

He props himself up on his hands, hovering over the gorgeous Jimin and eyeing him like a candy on a stick. Jimin has pretty dainty hands. They are always in motion, feelings up Jungkook’s arm muscles, bulging all prettily just for him - this shameless little minx.

“I know everything about you,” Jimin says, his voice washing over Jungkook’s mind like a gentle summer tide.

Turns his brain all mush-mush. 

“Every second of your waking moment. Every dream, every thought you’ve had. Serendipity has shown me all of it.”

Whomever this Serendipity is, Jungkook hopes it didn’t show every single thought he had. After a certain age, they’d gotten rather repetitive and tended to fixate mostly on things below the belt - which is not the image of himself he wants to project into this world. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Jimin purrs, tapping his temple lightly.

His hands wind up in Jungkook’s hair, massaging the scalp and down his neck. His touches are flitting, almost shy and it kindles longing in Jungkook like never before. It tramples all of the questions budding in his head. Melting reason away. Before he knows they’re kissing again and it plays out like a dream. 

He’s doing something, but he’s not really in control. It feels good. Peaceful, he’s in a safe place. Jimin’s touches are weightless and tender as he maps out his body with the very tips of his fingers. 

Like he can reach everywhere - can touch anywhere.

The moment something prods his mind, gentle and soothing - akin to a light breeze caressing the leaves - Jungkook shivers. Falls under. A feeling like no other. Floating, like a little air bubble. 

It’s gone as sudden as it came and Jungkook finds himself yearning.

“We can’t do it here,” Jimin says as they both move upright in sync. He grabs Jungkook’s hand. “Let’s go. Serendipity will have to stay here for now.”

“Serendipity?” Jungkook asks, shaking off the drowsiness as his brain slowly kicks back into gear. “You mean that pod thing?”

“Don’t call her ‘a thing’,” Jimin chides. “She has feelings. Quite a temper, too.”

“Damn, a she-pod with feelings”.

They’re standing now with Jimin plastered against his chest and nuzzling his mighty pec. Not awkward at all. 

“She’s a ship. The most intelligent ship in the whole galaxy. Completely self-aware,” Jimin says, exploring the vastness of Jungkook’s chest with his curious palms now. Jungkook starts to notice a certain obsession here of a tactile nature, but can’t find it in himself to complain. “Be kind to her.”

“I am kind,” Jungkook says. “I’m like...wait, who are you?”

“I’m Jimin.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nods. “But what kind of Jimin are you? Where did you come from? You’re not with the Joneses here, are you?”

With the burden of rational thinking, Jungkook slumps into a realization that he has questions. And he must ask them. 

“No, I’m from space,” Jimin says like it’s not big deal. “We need to go,” he commands, taking charge and dragging Jungkook along.

“Space? Wow,” Jungkook says. “That’s, ah, nice, I guess. Never been myself, what with the radiation and minus fuck-ton degrees, you know. Transportation kinda sucks, too. I don’t know if you’re aware but we’re kinda still in the stone age or whatever, but, ehm...remember when I was lying on top of you, with our private parts perfectly aligned? That was nice too, wanna, ehm, do that again?”

“Here is not safe,” Jimin says and at least, it’s not a no. “Serendipity can hide herself well enough, but it’s a matter of time before he tracks me down. And if that happens, I don’t want him to track me down right next to her.”

“Who’s he?” 

“Just a man who never gives up what’s his.”

“You mean, like, ex-boyfriend?” Jungkook asks, swallowing down an annoying spike of jealousy. “Do you even have boyfriends in space?”

“I meant Serendipity, not me,” Jimin says. “And yes, we do have boyfriends up there in space. You don’t have to worry though, he’s been mated for the past five hundred years. He’s that boring.”

Jungkook lets out a low whistle.

“If his mate looks anything like you, that’s understandable.”

[sector-i-closed-blog]

Night Encounter

Prince!Hongjoong, Maid!reader

You meandered around outside of the royal palace, having went outside during your lunch break for some fresh air and perhaps an energy boost so that you could be more efficient in cleaning the rooms when you returned to work.

Thoughts of the previous encounter that you had had with Prince Hongjoong lingered in your mind while your body yearned for his touch.

Still you tried to convince yourself that it was only temporary and that you should be content with the experience that you did have with the prince.

You had not been watching where you had been going and had suddenly slipped when your feet stepped in a puddle of water near the ornamental fountain.

"Oh!" You shrieked, reaching out to break your fall. Arms quickly wrapped themselves around your waist but instead of catching you, the person went down with you.

"Fuck!" A familiar voice sounded from behind you, prompting you to wheel around to make sure that you was right.

"Prince Hongjoong!" You gasped, finding that his face was merely inches from yours.

Quickly you scrambled to your feet and you bowed apologetically, "I'm so sorry your highness! Are you hurt?" You asked frantically, reaching out to check for any potential injuries.

"I'm fine, I'll be a little sore later but I'm alright. I should have caught you, princess." The prince furrowed his brows in displeasure.

"It's okay, your highness. I'm not hurt." You reassured him.

"But I still let my employee down." Hongjoong lowered his eyes.

"It's fine your highness!" You exclaimed, feeling the sudden urge to kiss his cheek as extra reassurance.

You leaned forward and pecked his cheek, drawing your hands back abruptly when you realised that you was still touching him.

"Oh, you found a reason to feel me up didn't you?" He smirked at you teasingly.

"Oh no, no, no! Not at all your highness." You defended yourself, feeling your ears turn red at his teasing.

"I'm sorry for acting so unprofessional..." You berated yourself, expecting to be fired at any time.

"It's fine. You'll learn how to be professional soon, it takes time." Hongjoong replied with a broad smile, standing up without assistance.

"I look forward to meeting you again. You know you can always come to my room should you need anything or someone to talk to." He winked at you before turning to leave.

You stood for a long time with your mouth agape, mentally chastising yourself when you came back to your senses after he was out of sight.

Later that evening you tossed and turned in your bed, failing to fall asleep because you kept replaying the incident at the fountain.

You sighed deeply, wanting to see the prince but you was afraid that he was trying to trick you to see what you would do.

Several minutes passed and you could hear the heavy snoring of some of the other maids that were living in the same quarters as you were.

After another moment had gone by you got out of bed and donned your jacket over your slip.

Silently you crept out of the maids living quarters, carefully navigating through the palace without disturbing anybody.

Once you reached the corridor where the prince's rooms were located you paused, realizing that a guard was standing by.

You examined him a little closer and saw that he was sound asleep while leaning his weight against the wall behind him.

Quietly you walked by him without waking him up and you made it to Prince Hongjoong's door.

The sound of rustling down the corridor frightened you and you reacted by turning the doorknob with ease, letting yourself inside the prince's room without a hitch.

"Was someone so excited to see me they forgot to knock?" The prince chuckled, placing the book that he was reading on the nightstand.

Your cheeks bloomed a vibrant shade of red at his words.

"I'm sorry your highness but I heard a noise down the corridor and I became afraid that someone would see me." You spoke quietly as you bowed, taking notice that the prince was still wearing his uniform despite it being past everyone's bedtime.

"I understand, though if anyone wants to have a problem with you seeing me than they should come to me for an explanation." Hongjoong replied, watching you stand awkwardly.

"Make yourself comfortable, princess. You've got the chair there, the bed here or my lap that you can sit on." The prince watched your reaction as you started towards the chair but your body demanded that you go to Hongjoong, desiring to feel his warmth.

You approached the prince slowly and seated yourself sideways on his lap so that you could face him. He looked into your eyes and stole your breath away, which encouraged you to attempt to think of something to talk about.

"I see that you read a lot, do you enjoy it, your highness?" You asked the prince, feeling slightly out of place wearing only your slip and a jacket while the prince was fully clothed.

"I learn a lot from books and I also do my best to learn other languages also." Hongjoong replied, focusing on your face as his hand rested on your hip.

"That's impressive..." You mumbled, awestruck at the new information that you had just learned from him. His warmth made you feel safe and you became slightly restless in his lap while nearly falling asleep.

"Am I an uncomfortable seat?" The prince asked, pulling you closer to him.

"Not at all..." You answered sleepily.

"I think I should be going back to where I sleep. I enjoyed being with you, your highness."

"Stay here with me Y/N." Hongjoong said firmly, scooping you up in his arms and lying you down onto the comfortable bed.

"I must not cause more problems for you then I already have..." You struggled to keep your eyes open.

"Stay with me, princess." The prince tucked you in, knowing that you had fallen asleep by now because you didn't resist him anymore.

He watched you a bit while you slept before going to the chair with his book in hand, intending to give you space while returning to reading his book until he fell asleep.

[eddieeatsass]

I was the one who sent in 9/19, I meant the 9 w/ secret relationship oops lol

Secret Relationship + Kissing in the Rain from this prompt list

Thanks for the clarification! I’m sorry I fucked up on the list. :S Hope this makes up for it and fulfills all your Reddie fluff dreams. 

The choice to keep their relationship from their friends had been a hard one, but Richie and Eddie were sure it was the right decision. Things were still so new, so tentative, the addition of five other bodies as they tried to navigate their feelings would just add more complication to the fire.

It’s not like they were planning on keeping it from them forever, just until they were sure this thing between them would even work. If things crumbled within the first few weeks, then there’d be no harm no foul to the group. Richie and Eddie could heal on their own time without the losers feeling like they had to pick sides.

But those were disheartening ‘what if’s, so Richie and Eddie tried not to dwell on them. Instead, they focused on the exciting aspects of a new relationships. The moments where your fingers accidentally touch and it sends tingles up your arm, or when you catch them watching you from across the room with a gentle smile on their face, or the small kisses you get to exchange that are charged with a type of energy you’ve never felt before. Those are the things Richie and Eddie busied their minds with, even within the presence of the losers when they had to keep their exchanges secret.

“There’s a bug in my pasta salad.” Stan complained.

“Mike, why would you put a bug in Stan’s pasta salad?” Bev accused jokingly.

“I didn’t put a bug in his pasta salad! We’re in the park, it must’ve just jumped in there!” Mike defended.

“I can’t believe you’d put a bug in poor Staniel’s pasta salad, Micycle.” Richie shook his head in mock disbelief.

Mike let himself deflate, giving up on his attempt at clearing his name.

“This is the last time I make food for one of these things.” Mike grumbled with no real fever behind his fit. He shared a little smile with Stan, who had happily agreed to exchange his bowl of pasta salad for Mike’s when he’d offered him his as an apology.

“I don’t mean to cause alarm but there’s a bug on my sandwich too.” Eddie piped up, lifting up the slice of bread to inspect the small ant that crawled across it, hastily trying to get away.

“Do not come for me, Eddie. I made those sandwiches with love and care.” Bev responded, leaning forward and flicking the ant off his plate with her thumb and forefinger.

Richie followed the ant with his eyes, making a crash-and-burn sound effect as it fell to the ground.

It received a snort from Eddie, which he quickly cut off by clamping his hand over his mouth as his face reddened.

“Awe, Eddie snorted! Cute cute cute!” Richie tried to pinch at Eddie’s cheeks but was slapped away.

The conversation shifted back to the topic of Bill’s theory on aliens, before Eddie was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket.

He pulled out his phone to see four consecutive texts from Richie. Eddie glanced over at him, but he seemed to be engrossed in a debate about whether aliens had humanoid genitals or genitals of a completely different nature.

Eddie opened the thread and was immediately forced to school his features before accidentally giving away their secret.

From Trashmouth:

snort like that one more time and I S2G kaspbrakdo u know how hard it is not to kiss u when u giggle like that???u adorable little piggyI wonder if u squeal like one in bed too...

Eddie was about to type out a response, keen to tease Richie while he had the upper hand, when a drop of water fell against his screen. He squinted up at the sky, observing the dark clouds that seemed to have rolled in from nowhere.

“Uh, guys...” Eddie tried to speak up as another water drop fell on his cheek.

“There’s no way they fertilize like fish, Stan!”

“Why not!?”

“Because they’re aliens! Not fish!”

“They’re not humans either but we’re not discrediting the option that they fuck like we do?”

“Guys I think it’s about to rain-” Eddie tried a little louder.

“Because no one wants to fantasize about aliens popping out 1000 eggs and having their male counterparts sploot all over them.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Woah, when did this become a fantasy thing?”

“It’s been a fantasy thing this whole time, Billiam, keep up! Otherwise why would we even be talking about this!?”

“I, for one, do not want to fuck an alien.”

“WELL CONGRATULATIONS BEN, YOU’RE BORING.”

“Guys!” Eddie finally interrupted the cacophony of voices, but before he could supply them with anything, the rain began pouring hard.

Beverly and Richie both screamed as they bounced to their feet, looking around them as if umbrellas would suddenly sprout from the ground.

Mike, Bill, Ben, and Stan began furiously packing things up, stuffing half eaten plates of food atop each other in their picnic basket.

Eddie just watched the chaos, bemused at the spirit with which everyone moved so suddenly. He busied himself with packing up his own bag, and then shoving Richie’s things into his own backpack as the aforementioned continued to run around in the grass with Beverly, yelling up at the sky.

Once their arms were all overflowing with haphazardly packed things, they began making a beeline for the parking lot. It was still a ways away, but they new the route well. Their feet moved faster as the rain threatened to pour harder, but it was the sudden clash of thunder that caused them all to start sprinting.

Their laughter mingled with the rain, causing a light hum that resonated through the nearby trees. They could see the beginnings of the parking lot coming into focus in the distance, and Bill picked up speed to run in front of the others.

“Land ho!” He exclaimed, pointing in the direction they were running.

Suddenly, Eddie felt a warmth in his hand. He looked down, seeing fingers interlocked with his, and followed them up to a soaked mop of black hair and a cheshire grin. Richie lifted a finger up to his lips before he began pulling Eddie off from the group.

No one seemed to notice, too caught up in the rain and keeping themselves from slipping on the mud beneath their feet. As Eddie looked back over his shoulder, he saw the rapidly disappearing forms of his friends, still running in the direction opposite from where Richie was leading him.

Within thirty seconds they came upon a gazebo, hidden behind a small patch of trees just off to the side of where they’d been sitting for their picnic. They ran into it, the sudden shelter from the rain a welcomed surprise. The pattering of the rain could still be heard on the roof, but it was muffled, quieter than it had been moments before.

They caught their breaths, smiles stapled to their cheeks as they rung as much water as they could out of their clothes, leaving a small puddle beneath them.

“I saw this earlier when we were hunting for a place to eat.” Richie explained, walked over to the edge of the gazebo and leaning up against one of the pillars.

Eddie took in the sight around him; it was breathtaking. The gazebo was large, made out of wood but painted a light blue with accents of white. There was a bench to one end, facing out towards the river, painted in the same colors.

“It’s beautiful.” Eddie noted.

“Just like you.” Richie responded with not a second lost.

Eddie turned to him with one eyebrow raised and a smirk.

“Smooth, you been practicing that one all afternoon?”

“Mhm, since I saw the thing.” Richie grinned back, slapping the hand railing beside him.

Eddie laughed, looking off into the haze of rain.

“You know, I wasn’t lying earlier.” Richie mentioned, drawing Eddie’s attention back to him. “It really is hard not to kiss you every time you laugh.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, a blush mottling his cheeks. He watched with close attention as Richie took the few steps towards him, closing the distance between them.

“It’s my favorite sound.” Richie admitted a little lower, a little shyer.

Eddie gulped, the lump in his throat hardening as his heartbeat quickened.

“Well, no one is around anymore...” Eddie let the sentence trail off, his hands coming to rest on Richie’s chest.

“And thank god for that.”

Richie leaned in gently, capturing Eddie’s lips in a kiss that warmed them both up despite the chill from their damp clothes. The rest of the world dropped away, piece by piece, sound by sound, until all that was left was the two of them connected.

Eddie opened his mouth, allowing Richie to deepen the kiss and pull him closer. It wasn’t filthy, or desperate, or yearning like their kisses usually were; this one was something new.

When they pulled apart, they let their foreheads settle against one another as the blur of the world came back into sight.

“I think we should tell them.” Eddie whispered nervously.

“Yeah?” Richie asked, unable to hide the hopefulness in his tone.

Eddie nodded, pulling back just enough that he could look Richie in the eyes.

“I don’t see this ending any time soon...” He bit his lip, searching Richie’s face for any indication of his response before it came.

“Me neither.” Richie’s grin was blinding; goofy and lopsided and perfect.

“So, shall we go tell them?” Richie extended a hand towards Eddie.

Eddie took Richie’s hand, heart and soul bounding with excitement from their new revelation. Outside the gazebo the rain had reduced to a trickle, sun finally peaking through the clouds.

Things felt like they were beginning to settle into where they were supposed to be. The sun was out, the storm had passed, and Richie and Eddie were together.

[ororowrites]

Erik Stevens x OC: Could’ve Been

Based on Could’ve Been by H.E.R feat. Bryson Tiller 

Warning: language and very, very light smut 

Any other day Essence would have slammed the door in his face. But somehow those sorrow filled eyes let him right inside her Manhattan condo. Twenty eight years of friendship. Twenty eight years of secrets they had only shared with each other. Everything felt like it was going down the drain. 

Erik stood in the doorway, his clothes soaked in the night’s rain. It was one of the worst thunderstorms in the last few years and here he was at her doorstep. 

“Erik, what the fuck,” Essence whispered, stepping back to let her best friend inside as he created a puddle on her hardwood floor. “It’s storming out there, what are you doing out?” 

“Had to see you,” he murmured, his eyes fixed on Essence in the candle lit living room. The lights had gone out hours ago. 

Had to see her? But, he hadn’t seen her in weeks. Since the last time she put him out of her condo and told him to never return. They had many spats, but this one ended with Essence in tears and Erik angrier than he’d ever been with her. “What for,” she crossed her arms over her chest, waiting to hear any excuse Erik could come up with on the fly. 

“You know why,” he answered, sounding as if he was offended by Essence’s question. “Baby...” Erik began, ready to plead his case to a brick wall because Essence was done. 

“No, I honestly don’t.” Sadly, Essence didn’t know why Erik had ended up on her doorstep. Seeing him after their fallout was hard on a heart that still yearned for him. 

“I’m sorry,” Erik apologized, stepping forward. Testing the waters. “Sorry for lying to you. Sorry for fucking up.” 

He meant every word but words wouldn’t mend what Essence felt. Betrayal stared her right in the face and she couldn’t shake it. A steady friendship had turned into a murky mess. 

Essense stood her ground, not phased by Erik’s apology, “She must not be home?” No answer. “That’s the only time you pop up over here. When she’s out on a business trip. Am I right?” 

Erik had no answer because she was right. His wife worked as a producer and found herself traveling the world often. When she was away, somehow he’d end up in Essence’s arms. It was obvious that Erik wasn’t happy in his marriage and used Essence as a crutch. Playing the other woman was taking it’s toll on Essence, a woman with higher morals and values than she was showing. 

“You can’t even answer me. What the hell are you really doing here Erik? I told you this shit between us was over,” Essence argued. “I’m tired of you using me. I’m tired of feeling guilty because you’re emotionally cheating on her with me. I told you to stay away from me.”

“She’s gone, E,” was all he could muster up as a reply. 

Gone? “Wha-What? What do you mean by gone?” 

An expression Essence had never seen on Erik’s face had appeared. Hurt. No one could hurt Erik. No one but the woman standing in front of him. Or so he thought. “She ran off with Kane. They left for London a few days ago. Left a note and her ring.” 

Essence froze in place, her mouth falling open but words not forming. Janet seemed like the type and she knew it all along.That was a poor excuse and  Essence knew that. “I’m...I’m sorry Erik. I didn’t know.” 

“I always knew something was up with that nigga,” he admitted, beginning to pace. “All these business trips? Yeah, I caught her ass hanging out in Mexico with this dude at a couple’s retreat. Do you know how hard it was not to kill them? This bitch lied to me and I’m supposed to let them live and enjoy the rest of their lives together?” The more he talked, the louder and angrier his tone got. Feeling betrayed was a feeling Erik knew all too well. 

“Erik, Erik,” Essence called out, trying to calm the angry man that was emerging. She pleaded with him, his eyes finally softening when they met hers. Essence’s hands found their way to Erik’s face, holding him still until his breathing returned to normal. Her scent alone calmed him. Took him back to their childhood when life seemed simple. 

His hands rested on top of hers as she held each side of face. Those brown eyes he had known since they were in diapers stared back at him. Even though, she was mad as hell, Erik could still see a glimmer of hope. She hoped he had finally come to his senses. Hoped they could mend what had been destroyed. “E,” he whispered, his face inches from her’s. That familiar pull was stronger than ever. 

Essence made the first move, pulling his lips to hers. A move that was dangerous and stupid in a sense. One tender kiss set their worlds on fire. One kiss was as dangerous as the storm outside. Erik dipped down to wrap Essence’s long, brown legs around his waist. He walked towards the bedroom, careful to not knock over any candles. 

Lightning struck, providing a second of light to lead Erik to the bed. They quickly undressed each other, desperate to feel their skin against the other’s.

Settled in between Essence’s thighs, Erik gently pushed himself inside. In awe of how she felt wrapped around him. He stayed still for a moment, mostly to keep himself from nutting too fast. But Essence was impatient. She had been yearning for this moment since the first time they’d made love. Back then, they had no idea what they were doing but it was a moment they remembered like it was yesterday. 

“Ah,” she grimaced, holding her hand to Erik’s stomach. 

“Shit, am I hurting you,” he asked gently, pulling back out. Essence shook her head in response, gripping Erik’s ass until they were joined as one again. “You good,” Erik checked in, unable to read Essence’s face through the quick flashes of lightning. 

“I’m good,” Essence whispered back, shifting her body underneath his weight, prompting Erik to move. He followed her lead, slowly rolling his hips. Had it all been worth it, he thought to himself. Breaking his promises he made years ago because he was afraid. Was it worth risking his friendship and throwing away true love because he was a coward? 

The answer was no. None of it was worth hurting Essence or wasting time on someone who didn’t deserve him. 

Essence could barely see Erik’s face, but she could read his body language. Every stroke was a new way of saying I love you. She held on to each one, hoping he could read her body too. I love you too. Her nails sunk into Erik’s back as he nuzzled her neck, whispering sweet words in her ear. Erik was never this soft with anyone else, not even his wife. Essence was the only woman that had that type of hold on his heart. 

Feeling Essence tighten around him, he grabbed her hands, holding them in place over her head. “I love you,” he moaned. 

Hearing him utter those words was bittersweet. It was great hearing him say them, but she couldn’t help but wonder what they could’ve been...

So, I didn’t plan to start a new series and this was supposed to be a one-shot because I was feeling inspired. After getting to the end, I felt like this was a prequel to an entire story. At least that’s what it seemed like in my head. This will need a lot of brainstorming but if you’re interesting in being tagged, let me know. 

[mrsunderhill678]

Me? Writin? Pff- never

"For men like us, that justice failed, that's where family starts. In graves. We just sit there, lookin' at a name, plantin' the ghost of a rose in hopes we can become friends with the ones like us. We revive each other, man. That's what death and life is all about." - Napoleon Whitley

"When justice lies in the hands'a the wicked, it wilts away like a rose on a cold Sundeh mornin'. Loved, for the beauty it once held." - Napoleon Whitley

"My father used to tell me the truth lived inside us all. But as I stared that woman eye to eye and she said, "Napoleon Whitley killed that girl," I had some strange feelin' that there was nuthin' but lies rotting in her blackened chest." - Ivella Paidel

"If that's what you think of yourself you're doomed to become the wolf's cape draped over the shoulders of the mourning, vengeful lamb." - Michael Tabrowski

"I've never believed man was meant to spill blood. It leaves such a sinister, deadly scar on one's heart. But so many choose to believe that scar is their howl." - Michael Tabrowski

"I've found you've no care for this death you call your life." - Michael Tabrowski

"Truthfully, it feels as if I've died. Lost in one way or another to the way man spills blood." - Amorian Slathervark

"I was always so terrified, of being human. My father always taught me that emotions are liars, and we must run off of our beastly instinct. But when she pressed her lips against mine, I learned she loved me in all the emotions I shoved like daggers down my throat." - Pratten Whiskeyfoul

"Love is like blood for the mind. You'll never forget it, but some days, you'll wish you could." - Pratten Whiskeyfoul

"That's just what happens when you love the broken. Pieces of them they never wanted to share cut the tips of your fingers as you dance them against their skin." - Pratten Whiskeyfoul

"I think the saddest word in the human language is almost. It's that sliver of possibility that kills you, and she was an almost dream, huh?" - Pratten Whiskeyfoul

"Love isn't something you ask for. It never was. It crawls into your heart like a hungry beast, sinking it's teeth into your soft flesh and dragging little pieces of your heart into someone you never knew. And as you see little pieces of you in another, you come to realize love was never a choice. Other wise, we wouldn't fall in love with the wrong people." - Melai Diamonskull

"They called him real. And that was the cruelest thing you could call a man like him." - Mydria Sirencuff

"Because the boy who falls into darkness isn't you, Jarrod. He never will be. You have to die just as I did. Feel every knife in your heart, ever bullet on the tip of your tongue, like gunpowder sin and spark sizzling power. In the grand scheme of things, all roads lead to death. It's better, wise, even, to realize that early on. To lick death off the edges of silver knives just to know what it tastes like on a bleeding tongue. That's the taste that dances on your lip whenever you whisper my name." - Florian Heartpierce

"I've found beauty in the darker things. Like shadows dancing between the trees and blood spilling under the shadow of another man's grace." - Florian Heartpierce

"Death spews from out my tongue as if it were a snake hiding behind my red teeth." - Absinthe Hollercrow

"I always wonder why God's always hiding his answers to all my questions in parts of myself I dare not reach into." - Graham Davidson

"My father always called her heaven's ghost, for he could not control her. As if she was dead far before he ever threatened to lay her in a grave." - Melias Skinwalker

"We are sisters, you and I. We are bound by shield and by blade, and so long as I can still swing this ax and heave this shield like a merciful burden, I shall protect you with all I may give." - Dezstarla Vaganbrok

"I will come for the monsters and the beasts who ripped the roses from his decadent garden. And they will wither in the bones they plucked." - Lucius Caulfell

"To love at all is to live." - Imaldene Emorvow

"He used to shout his freedom in blooms of color, but now he declares his decadent imprisonment in blooms of red and grey." - Imaldene Emorvow

"He bleeds not unlike a man, yet still, I cannot wrap my head around the idea that something human can be so dastardly and deadly to his own kind." - Quenzin Pivato

"My heart wades strange and unfamiliar in the cage of my chest, and I begin to feel that whosoever holds it will know more grief than love." - Armond Zonestrame

"She was like a face in the sand, calm and beautiful, but once grasped in the hands of the mortal man, she flitted between his fingers like blood from his throat." - Raymund Alkarson

"In the wisps of shadow I found things that weren't me. And as I stepped forth into the night, following rose petals on the ground, I learned the dark doth not call with good intentions in his voice." - Raymund Alkarson

"My heart yearns for the things that make it go still." - Ben Stilts

"Past all this darkness in my heart, I can hardly tell what love is. All that I know is somewhere, nestled in the cracks of my heart, you reside, chiseling away at the shadows with hammer and nail." - Cyprian Orgazi

"You and I's fate is a flat circle and we're just dancing our way around the edge." - Carvaso Nightfall

"When ya... When ya get blood on your hands, it uh, it changes you. It starts with the regret, you know? And then you start justifying it, saying things like, "He deserved it, I had to." That's when ya start to die. And then you realize, you deserve it, the man lying in your memory didn't." - Lucas Camillo

"He used to be something more than an absolution starved beast, but now as I look into my eyes and see flickers of his damnation in my reflection, I realize he is nothing but it." - Melias Skinwalker

"He'd always been Alice, following the rabbit in hopes to find salvation at the bottom of the Mad Hatter's tea cup, but alas, Wonderland withered and died before his tear glossed eyes." - Melias Skinwalker

"She was brave and determined, and as she took the cross from off her back, a burn on her skin in the shape of dead and wicked faith, she broke free of the Skinwalker shadow, and became more than we'd ever been." - Melias Skinwalker

"The world fell through the lenses of violence, and there I stood in wonder, gazing at the world through a painter's eyes, wondering why the pale white of bloodless skin and electric blue of tazers firing off looked like something I would've brought to life with the edge of my brush, and called so gracefully, "The end." - Nester Harvlock

"In the shape of a birthmark, she slathered her face in paint. Whether it was a cry of revolution or an act of hiding from oneself, I could never tell." - Reggie Savinwit

“My rage is quiet until faced with me.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“I found myself in the tangles of her red hair as she kissed me deeply in the witching hours of the night.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“My life was lost in the empty eyes of cruelty, but every now and again, as Amaryliss' fingers trace against every scar and dance gently against every curve and bruise, I feel like, for once, I'm alive again. She loves me in colors I've never seen, and as her lips press against every inch of me, I bloom with shades of love and peace. I'm a crooked, hell bent monster, but when she holds me in her arms, I feel a little less monstrous and a little more human.” - Bellatrix Hungarson

“I got old weathered boots and a cigarette on the edge'a my lip, knowin' trouble comes for the peaceful souls 'for it ever pounces on the cruel and sickly.” - Bellamy Houston

“I met 'er as I rode my horse inta the night, just at the edge's death's door with blood on my sleeve and some gentle ache ta my smile. And as I woke ta her gentle and soothin' words, I wondered if I'd been found by a siren. But alas, she was the guardian angel that brought this ol' cowboy back ta life. Carly's a bit of a wild soul, and I love that 'bout 'er. She's got this smile that flickers with little bits'a wild beauty. Her hair's tangled and curled, her eyes alight with starlight and a slight tinge'a madness. But the best people are a lil' mad, after all.” - Bellamy Houston

“I've seen trouble on the edge of a Sundeh mornin', revolver steady in 'is hand, his rage sittin' on the brim'a his hat like a matchstick 'gainst a fuse. He told me that if I so much as whisper 'bout 'is sin, he'd lay me in the dirt under a shallow grave where all souls would forget my name. But I wonder what he'd do if he knew that his anger's fire is flickerin' while my justice's flame begins ta rise.” - Bellamy Houston

“I walked a thousand miles'a my life on my own, but I've walked many more with life and Carly by my side, and loneliness don't seem like much a friend, now.” - Bellamy Houston

“I wear a broken crown'a lies atop me 'ead, paradin' my own decapitated sense'a self down the hallways'a me 'eart, my demons chantin' and cheerin', "Da bastards dead! Lay ruin ta 'is poor sinner's 'eart!" - Daisy Fields

“When ya watch dat first bullet fly, ya watch a little piece'a ya go with it. It's nuffin' but a small sliver, but then ya fire another round and eventually, as the war finally ends, ya've fired your whole heart from out your chamber, gunpowder smoke driftin' after the remnants'a your identity.” - Daisy Fields

“They say scars make a man, but as I look at my reflection, rippled and distorted by the water's edge, I come ta realize these scars didn't make me. They killed me.” - Daisy Fields

“I ain't really been Daisy Fields for a long time, now. My name flew from out me chamber as I pulled me first trigger and landed in a poor bloke's chest, cursin' their grave with a name that ain't theirs', but a name that ain't quite mine, either.” - Daisy Fields

“I hide all these things inside my head. These feelings, these emotions, these little blooms of color and love. I've lived my whole life in black and white, the color of everything I touched fading like a puddle when faced with the harsh morning sun.” - Norma Locke

“I'm a ghost of memories and little pieces of a heart that forgot to feel, repeating the same mistakes again and again as she's lost to time. But as that woman, that beautiful, strange, odd, amazing woman places her hands on my cheeks, I feel less transparent. Less ghostly. Less fractured, broken and beaten down. All my life I've been a disease slowly rotting who I am away. But I feel like in some way, Illene's the cure I've always craved.” - Norma Locke

“I've been a wandering, homeless soul for years. And at the end of trouble's road I met a woman, beautiful and strange who scooped me up gently in her arms as I clung to the folds of her shirt with feeble and decaying fingers. And as I closed my eyes, and swore I was about to breathe my last, she carried me home. How beautiful and strange it is that a life can change with a single name etched into it's future.” - Norma Locke

“There's some odd serenity about the way the waves whisper in secrets and old, forgotten treasure.” - Marianna Bones

“On the distant and rocking waves I met a monster with cruelty in his eyes and flickers of flame in his smile. And as he clenched a fist and told his men to open fire, I knew what rage felt like in a good woman's heart.” - Marianna Bones

“Here on this ship we follow a code. Help those that need helping, feed those that need feeding, and kill those that need killing. There's honor in our war torn, ocean misted hearts, and black blood on the tips of our honor coated blades.” - Marianna Bones

“I fight so that one day, my daughter can see a future ripe and full with peace. She's a warrior, fighting day by day, but I crave for the day when she can lay down her blade for good. She's my daughter born and raised, and in many ways, she's the reason I'm still alive. I was burdened and blind until she came into the world and gave me a reason to fight.” - Marianna Bones

“My heart lies with the sea, loving gently like the waves on a sunny morning, but beating with rage like a thrashing storm when faced with the cruelty creeping up the edges of this world's soul.” - Autumn Bones

“I'm not going to die peaceful, that much I know. No warrior goes out without blood on her blade and scars on her skin. She stands tall and sturdy in the face of death and refuses to back down until she can no longer stand. And even then, she bares her teeth.” - Autumn Bones

“On the distant, stormy horizon sits a ship, ripe and full with sinners, cheats and bastards, clambering over the holy to grasp at something dark. And on the mast, like a looming crow sits their leader, shouting in ancient tongues as he demands the light withers and dies as he rolls on by with the violent waves. I'll stare him eye to eye and watch him fall. Cause I ain't the kinda girl who dies so easy. He's been asleep in his cruelty for years, and my knuckles against his violence is his damn wake up call.” - Autumn Bones

“This kingdom of me came crumbling down the moment the red heart faded to black. I'm soil hiding ashen bones and ribcages overgrown by weeds and mercy, and in the distant call of my mind, I find something that was never home, but slowly, it's starting to be.” - Rin Otishiro

“My heart beat's sick with gambling lights and the edges of cards, and as I look back into the recesses of my mind I see a man, standing tall and empty, like a hollow husk of humanity. His eyes are alight with delusion and the spark of inhumanity. And wherever he goes, fantasy and death are sure to follow. I'd never known mankind could be so dark until he placed a thumb under my chin and told me I was a pawn in his game, and he'd always meant for me to lose.” - Rin Otishiro

“I sit here, counting scars like stars on my wrists.” - Rin Otishiro

“My name's still the same, but I change like the weather, going from rain to a hurricane in the span of a blink or two.” - Rin Otishiro

“My heart's rotten and black, crumbling into my stomach as I swallow my fucking words.” - Rin Otishiro

“Silent and sorrowful, I stood under a shadow. Rocking myself back and forth as I ripped pieces from out my mind and dipped my pen in their ink. If only to run my fingers across the pieces of me I hated, disguised as poetry and prose so one day, I could fall in love with all the pieces of me I'd grown to despise.” - Ashivana Cuttle

“She dances her fingers against my bare bones and all of a sudden, the aching begins to leave, replaced by this buzzing warmth that tastes of her love. Her lips on mine taste like freedom, like cool midnight air or the sun dancing gentle and warm on my cheek. I could drown in her love, as she could drown in mine. She's my end, she's my beginning, and as she makes love to the worst parts of me I come to realize she loves me for the good parts in me and the bad. As she pressed her lips against my neck and dug her fingers into my hair she whispered, "I will dance with your demons and taste the death on your lips, if only to learn to love every piece of you and all of you all at once." She cured me in ways I never thought possible, and I have this odd feeling that I cured her, too.” - Ashivana Cuttle

“Memory slips through my fingers like sand, and I can only watch them twist and turn with the wind until inevitably, I forget they were ever there.” - Angelo Lariplank

“I fear I've been dead ever since I woke in a forest ripe and full with memories I couldn't taste on my tongue, clothes covered in mud and blood, the knife that ruined me held feebly in my hand.” - Angelo Lariplank

“Do I trust this lie I tell myself? It's easy to swallow and sits gently in my stomach, building a garden of roses and little reasons to hold on. But the truth forces itself down my throat like greedy human fingers, ripping pieces from my heart and stripping the petals from my roses, leaving me no more than a scrambled mess of thorn and bramble. The truth rips me from myself and I drown in it.” - Angelo Lariplank

“The woman I loved always used to tell me I was her wolf. Not in the sense that I hunted for prey. But I was loyal like the moon at my back. But ever since she's been gone the moon's light's felt so lonely on the scars etching up my back. Her name's a tattoo seared into my tongue. I can never rid myself of the taste of her love, of her pleasure, of her lust. She tasted like my own tears on my lips and the gentle healing of my sorrow. As if she was the answer to the question I'd been for too long. But now that she's gone I sit as a gentle crow upon a grave that reads my own name. I'm a threadbare, starving question, and my insanity holds me up only to wait for an answer I'll never receive. In the words of Allan Poe, my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, shalt be lifted- Nevermore." - Angelo Lariplank

“I'm an animal built off the desire to feel, and here I am, seeking emotion in the life that flashes behind a dead man's eyes.” - Andromeda Lockmowe

“This person I am is so ugly and twisted. Don't forget that the devil used to be God's favorite, but as she fell from heaven, pieces of her wings burning on her back, do you think she felt loved? Do you think she felt wanted? Or did her eyes flash with the anger of her father as he gripped her in his rough hands and cast her from the edge of his malice? I fell from heaven on bloodied wings, coughing up rose petals and thorns, wondering why the world never loved a lost girl like me. I fell through the air, grasping at pieces of me with tears in my eyes, only to land on the edge of my own knife, sputtering up all of me as who I am bled out from the corners of my eyes. Like red tears of emotion.” - Andromeda Lockmowe

“I look into my love's eyes and see something filled with pain and broken pieces of who she is, but as I place my hands gentle on her cheeks, and tell her my arms are the home she seeks, I can tell she begins to feel a little more like her and a little less like her scars.” - Jemini Paskel

“When she first laid her head on my shoulder, it was as if I'd swayed my brush against a blank canvas and watched colors bloom from grey to rose red. As if in that very moment, a future had begun to spill on the tapestry of us in colors that didn't exist, but would come to be as I tasted her lips and brokenness on mine.” - Jemini Paskel

“We're all stories waiting to be told by somebody who listened, somebody who not just read our story, but danced their fingers against every page and gently kissed every word. As if they wanted more than our beauty, than our love. As if they wanted to hold the ugly pieces of us in their hands and whisper, "How beautiful you must be, to hold all this pain inside of you and remain upright and tall in the face of such ugliness in your soul." But these pieces of us were never ugly, just things we didn't want to love.” - Jemini Paskel

“Magic was never little flickers of fire dancing on the tips of your fingers, or pulling a card from somebody's jacket. It was always love, and it always will be.” - Vishal La’Voila

“My mother was one of the most important people in my life. She saw the thoughts I hide in my eyes, and whenever she pulled me close, I felt a little less transparent. As if I was living rather than breathing.” - Vishal La’Voila

“She once told me that there was no greater magic than the love you feel when somebody tells you, as you're falling apart, "You're not okay, and that's okay. Let your emotions flow through you, feel them as deeply as you can, as if they were your roots digging into the Earth. Because it is that pain that will allow you to later stand tall and sturdy." In life, we all have the choice to write our own stories, to write our own identities. We don't choose who we are, but we choose what we show other people of ourselves. And that's the choice we have to make. To be ourselves and not care what others think, or to shrivel and hide away in fear of the sticks and stones people cast against the broken and different. You're strong either way.” - Vishal La’Voila

“I'll die a hero before I ever live as a villain.” - Lilluth Sillia

“I woke from a dream of smoke and fire, wondering why I could still smell war on the horizon as I rose from my bed. And it was with sorrow I learned that war sat on the edge of peace like a hungry beast, waiting to shove the merciful into it's merciless jaw.” - Lilluth Sillia

 “On the edge of another day I sit, butterfly dancing on the tip of my blade and bringing a small moment of magic to my tired and weathered eyes. The life of a warrior is rarely an easy one, nor is it an un-burdened one. But it's a weight I'm willing to bare. My eyes are tired and heavy, but I find it so hard to sleep. Be it the humming trouble in the cool night air or the blood that sits heavy in my memory, sleep is such a tragic thing for a hero. But as the stars begin to shine, and the moon casts a pale and gentle glow, I must remember the hero is not cruel in her justice.” - Lilluth Sillia

“The peace in me is gone, but it is not, forgotten.” - Haize Dents

“I dare not say their names, lest their ghosts crawl from out my throat and I lose all the things that make me me.” - Haize Dents

“There's a fire in me I cannot tame. It burns hot and blue in my chest, the words I swallow sitting like pale glowing kindling at the bottom of my stomach as my ashes rise from out my rage. I am smoke, and I am fire, anything I ever could've been flickering away as I stare into the dark. But when my eyes catch Stephanie's, this fire in me dwindles down and meets my heart, burning from anger to passion in the span of a single heartbeat.” - Haize Dents

“My heart is a desperate, broken thing, craving for warmth yet flinching as a finger slides across it's cheek. I wish to taste her love on my lips and her rage on my tongue, but I'm scared of the way my heart beats in my sleep like a murder soon to be.” - Haize Dents

“I used to sit on the edge of my bed, who I'm not creeping up the corners of my chest like greedy and rough hands clawing pieces off of me until I could hardly take another step without remembering the boy in the mirror. But I'm me, I'm me, and isn't that such a beautiful thing to be?” - Alexandra Harkol

“My father used to tell me that when pain comes a knocking, you grow with it, you let it walk beside you until the path diverges. And when it goes, you let it go with the shake of a hand and a thank you, for not swallowing me whole. And as my pain becomes just another speck in the sunset, I bid it farewell and thank it for allowing me to grow.” - Alexandra Harkol

“We were all searching for our Neverland on wings that didn't fly, so with our hands and human fingers we hoisted each other to the sky so maybe, just maybe, we could taste the warmth of the sun on the tips of our tongues.” - Alexandra Harkol

“We're not happily ever afters, in truth, there isn't one. But life without death isn't much more than jumping memory to memory, trying to make new ones in pursuit of what the old days felt like.” - Alexandra Harkol

“I used to be so lost in all the sorrow, the pain, the doubt. As if I was a book that got left as an abandoned manuscript, longing for the rest of my words to be read, the rest of my story to be tasted by the tips of fingers young and old as they flipped through the wondrous pages of me. But as I met Bardzimi, and his eyes flickered with some happy ending I'd always wanted to have, I found love where it was never supposed to be. And it was right in front of me all along.” - Ismerelda Sage

“I've learned that as we weep, our emotions drip from the tears and down our cheeks, falling against the soil and planting little seeds of who we were in that moment. And the Earth remembers the taste of our tears against her rough skin. She does.” - Ismerelda Sage

“He cured my scars with words, in places fingers couldn't go. He wanted to know every little secret and every little flaw so he could hold the dark pieces of me in his hands just to claim them beautiful. And what an awfully beautiful thing it must be, to be loved for both your light and your darkness.” - Ismerelda Sage

“The world's become a lost soul, clinging to the memory of what it was. And here we stand like ghosts, loving and living despite the constant remembrance of death.” - Ismerelda Sage

“On the edge of a dead man's blade I met a pale and dark angel, the shadow of her wings looming high and mighty over me. And as I knelt on broken knee, and she placed a clawed hand on my shoulder she whispered that all of me would die.” - Levi Lambright

“My heart opened up like a dying flower.” - Levi Lambright

“Oh I was just a boy of a doomed family, watching my brethren fall like rain from the sky. They shined with a pale and orange light, but just as the sun, they were bound to plummet back into the dark.” - Levi Lambright

“Darkness made a nest in my chest and dared ask, "Whatever happened to the light?” - Levi Lambright

“I have become such a stranger to myself, but I like the way this name tastes on my tongue. It is as if with the first man I killed, part of me fell with his corpse, and another part of me rose as I ripped my blade from out his chest.” - Levi Lambright

“I have replaced my heart with a cage, and that is where I reside.” - Levi Lambright

“I look at myself through transparent, nicotine hazed memories, wondering who I am past the pain of yesterday and tomorrow.” - Eithel

“I try to purge myself of everything I knew about my sister, but as I close my eyes and smoke another breath, I can see her. Like a midnight fire flicker in my mind. It would be cruel, to let her leave my mind, because it's the only place she's allowed to live.” - Eithel

“I try to pour who I am from a bottle of red wine, watching the crimson pour as it splashes against another empty tomb, knowing that no matter what I do, the bottle's gonna refill and I'll get drunk off this ghost I've become.” - Eithel

“She's an uninvited guest in my heart, looking from out my ribs with sorrowful eyes as she tells me she can never leave. And everywhere I look, I see her. She's in the pale and gentle glow of the moon, the flicker of the stars and the falling of light into shadow. She creeps up on every thought and every memory, the cold case she's become haunting my heart as she whispers she's long gone, and I'll never feel her in my arms again. I couldn't protect her, and as I broke my promise, the world must've vowed to kill me as I walk and breathe.” - Eithel

“My mind splits open to reveal all the memories I try to hide, pieces of my skull peeling back as all of me bleeds out into the open.” - Ontari Boneson

“I stare back into the past, looking deep into the empty eyes of a hollow man. He stands and looms over me, whispering that he'll be back, he'll always come back. His knife drips with shattered pieces of me, and here I stand, a person I no longer am.” - Ontari Boneson

“I've got scars etched up my back and spine, bruises growing in my mind as I try to figure out who the hell I am. But as soon as I walk through the door, my scars and memories whisper, "Welcome home." - Ontari Boneson

“My anger lives between the shattered pieces of my mind, chiseling away at my thoughts and memories with hammer and nail.” - Ontari Boneson

“Sometimes we just gotta fight for the light so she knows it's okay to come around.” - Aldia McVale

“I've met cruelty in the eyes of an angel I watched fall. Her smile slowly faded into cruelty, her curiosity turned to death, her fighting spirit to murder. It's perhaps the greatest tragedy of all, to watch good become evil. To watch a girl lose herself to the shadows of those who laid her down in the dirt.” - Aldia McVale

“I've never believed in kill or be killed, I've never believed revenge was the righteous option. And so with my blade in stone, I'll choose words over violence and an open heart over a fighting one. People like us, warriors of words and love can't lose ourselves to the idea that killing can be justified. In truth, it never can be. If I were to kill Olivia and watch her fall in a red pool of her sins and redemption, I'd be no better than those who twisted her starlight into shadows.” - Aldia McVale

“Cruelty lies to us, whispering that redemption can't be found. But if we push cruelty to the side and reach our hand out to love, to hope, to redemption, we'll find the light was always there, waiting to pull us into her motherly embrace and welcome us back into her arms like an old friend. She who walks back into the light after years of darkness is just as worthy as she who's always known the light.” - Aldia McVale

“Being different doesn't mean being bad. In truth, we're all different. No soul is the same. Normal is an illusion built off the idea that we hold all that we are on the outside. But on the inside, there's things that make us special, different, and we never show it. Because we fear taking off our masks as everyone else tells us who we are with plastic smiles and masked faces. I took off that mask a long time ago. My smile's real, my soul is real, and isn't it beautiful? To be real when so many choose to dance with an illusion?” - Akayla Vrizin

“It was as the rain fell, suit and tie clinging to me like skin soaked with sin, I found who I am, the pale light of the moon steadily trickling down the cracks in my heart until all that pumps through my veins was dark.” - Agusto Perwitz

“The love in me lies dead and forgotten somewhere in this crooked tapestry I've become. It slowly decays as weeds and thorns grow from out it's throat, greed and envy choking the good out of me as I take another merry step into the dark.” - Agusto Perwitz

“I've mastered the art of pulling the trigger in silence.” - Agusto Perwitz

“I've got a monster in me. She claws at the edges of my ribs and takes little pieces of my heart to stick between her teeth. And as the memories of the wicked wolves pass through my mind, she claws from out my throat and makes life hell for the cruel.” - Adsila Bloodvallo

“My heart beats slower and slower as I rot away in my cage. But as Tiana takes her hand in mine and tells me I'm no monster, just a fighter, I feel my heart go faster and the monster in me shrivel away for a moment or two.” - Adsila Bloodvallo

“I love Tiana, as if I was fire ever dancing in the midnight sky and she was the stars I try so desperately to reach with my flickers and sparks.” - Adsila Bloodvallo

 “I've spent too long fightin' myself with bare knuckles, breakin' myself down piece by piece just ta build me together again like a rickety and rusted tower, knowin' if I dare remove one shard'a me, this person I am'll come crumblin' down.” - Mavallo Clavelli

“Sometimes, people'll hate you for things ya can't control. And I've learned that's their choice and their misery ta live with. I won't carry the burden of a hateful man on my shoulders, it's a weight he's gotta carry on his own.” - Mavallo Clavelli

“It's been rainin' in this heart of mine for a long time now, but that's the only way the garden's gonna bloom in my chest. Under the clouds of sorrow and the skies of joy, I'll find who I am.” - Mavallo Clavelli

“There ain't no mercy in the war against oneself, cause you gotta walk out the other side yourself, or you're gonna come out the other side'a the war nobody at all.” - Mavallo Clavelli

“He's a victim of cruelty, not cruelty in of itself.” - Eliza McGriffin

“It's not such a cruel thing, to show a monster they were human all along.” - Eliza McGriffin

“I'm in control of the way this heart beats and the ways these emotions echo.” - Eliza McGriffin

“The Earth's letting out her final gasp, and here I am, holding my breath so she can have just a moment of my air.” - Eliza McGriffin

“We're hearts that love and feel with souls that hurt and bleed.” - Eliza McGriffin

“Cruelty takes little pieces of us day by day. Not enough to notice, but as days turn to years they've consumed who we are and there's nothing left of us past the full stomach of cruelty.” - Eliza McGriffin

“I'm my own worst enemy, but perhaps, when I'm not myself... That's a good thing.” - Pamela Vekeltin

“I'll whisper my secrets and sins to the wind in hopes they find a forgiving angel. And as Gabriel holds me in his arms and reminds me I'm more than this blood spilled, I swear the wind found his name.” - Pamela Vekeltin

“I've stood under my own shadow for so long that I hardly remember what light tastes like on my tongue. But as I breathe in the fresh air, the taste of love, hope and a slight tinge of freedom dance on the edge of my tongue, gripping at the edges of my lips with beauty coated fingers and love brushed smiles.” - Pamela Vekeltin

“I just look at my life, I see how much I've changed, how much I've grown, and I realize that who we are doesn't stick around. It wisps away as who we're meant to be comes on by.” - Olivia Wiltfang

“Some people just don't understand life. They take the pain and they turn it into a weapon, claiming strength is found in the swinging of a fist and the shattered edge of who we are. But true strength was always gonna be found in the beautiful vulnerability of love.” - Olivia Wiltfang

“I've got chips off my paint, faded stickers of who I am etching my surface, water stains and scars bared with pride on my hide. But at the end of the day, I'm the same person, hidden behind things that fade with time.” - Olivia Wiltfang

“This person I've become is like cigarette smoke. It brings me some since of peace, for a time, then I cough, I sputter, and this person I am fucking kills me.” - Walter Killgrine

“I hardly make a sound as I begin to fade away, because all my pain goes by unspoken, my sorrow quiet and my rage too loud to fucking bare.” - Walter Killgrine

“I used to have a heart in my chest, but as a dead memory of my past whispered from the shadows, "There's wolves in the dark," my heart jumped from out my chest, running as far as it could from that shadow of a man until it burrowed itself deep into the future of my grave.” - Walter Killgrine

“I'm no kind man. I've pulled triggers without a second thought, killed men for causes I don't believe in, stained my lips with loveless blood and watched good men die. I'm a secret to myself, always discovering new and twisted pieces of me.” - Walter Killgrine

“I've always stood under one shadow or another, be it the darkened sky of my family, the shadow between colored circus lights or the constant remembrance of a man I thought I knew. I've never seen the light, and now more than ever I fear, it would blind me.” - Walter Killgrine

“I cover my traces with pieces of barbed wire insanity, hoping who I used to be doesn't follow me.” - Draco Scoviney

“There are pieces of me that still lust for salvation, but the dark pieces of me drown them out and I lose myself to this woeful shout of insanity.” - Draco Scoviney

“My madness is calm, patient and silent, standing in the edges of my mind and bursting from out my skull like the mad woman's hands, drenched in black and red blood alike.” - Draco Scoviney

“In the castle of unwell minds and broken people, we've found who we truly are. This place stands like a revolver's shadow over peace and sanity, and my friend, we are the bullets piercing the skull of the well as the queen of damnation and madness pulls the hammer back, nails painted in the blood of the holy.” - Draco Scoviney

“I've not been me ever since I tasted my father's blood on my teeth. As he fell, grasping at a ruined throat, I found I liked the way murder tasted on the edge of my tongue.” - Draco Scoviney

“Some men grieve the loss of who they were, but God damn, I rejoice.” - Shakilo Vankelo

“I played a game of chance with my demons, and as I stand here, straightening my blood stained tie, a smile on the edge of my lip, who do ya think won?” - Shakilo Vankelo

“Before I go howlin' into the night, I'll raise a little hell and watch little pieces of heaven fall like fucked up masterpieces from the sky.” - Shakilo Vankelo

“I am the coinsurer of my own destruction.” - Shakilo Vankelo

“They never used ta speak my name, but now they howl it like a scar on the tip'a their damn tongue.” - Shakilo Vankelo

“I ripped myself apart piece by shattered piece until nothing but my heart remained. And as it looked for somewhere to run, I squashed it under my heel.” - Shakilo Vankelo

“The poor man dies under the rich man's boot, the rich man strives in the poor man's sorrow.” - Barsbley Martman

“Where all the cobwebs used to be, she's built a tapestry of her love, building reasons for me to live with flowers and daffodils in my chest.” - Barsbley Martman

“I've stood under the shadow of cruel men's riches for too long, always yearning for the heat of Summer as I stood cold in the winter. But as Lucienne brushes her lips against mine, I feel a sudden Spring in my chest, followed quickly by a calm and quiet Summer, lived under the light and shadow of sunflowers and rain dripping gardens.” - Barsbley Martman

“There is no greater trouble then the kind that lives in man.” - Barsbley Martman

“The most dangerous thing about the cruel man, is that he looks just like the good man. He's stitched kindness into his smile and learned how to pretend to be human. But at the end of the day, he was never human, just evil hiding in the vessel of a man.” - Barsbley Martman

“At the end of the day, I must wonder who I'll be. Because I spend my days in constant change, different people flowing through me as I grasp at the illusion of my identity.” - Barsbley Martman

“My whole life it seems I've been grasping at something that was never there, some cure to life that'd leave me content and full with imaginings and beauties. But I'm lost in a dream I had when I was young, and ever since, I haven't opened my eyes.” - Sasha Sunblume

“She's broken pieces in my memory, and as I whisper her name to an empty and colorful sky, I swear it's her tears I see in the rain.” - Sasha Sunblume

“I've been kicked out of my own heart and mind, clawing at things that aren't me and shoving them down my throat in order to be somebody else. But these pieces of other people grow like black rot and weeds in my stomach, breaking me down into a beautiful garden of black petal memories and decaying thoughts of yesterday.” - Sasha Sunblume

“With all the miles I've walked, I haven't gone anywhere at all.” - Sasha Sunblume

“I used to dance on a tightrope, wondering when my sorrow would send me plummeting toward my concrete doubts, clawing at air with tears and misery in my eyes. But now here I stand, having fallen and survived, knowing sometimes, that the fall's just your rebirth in disguise. How beautiful it is, to fall, breaking apart into somebody new as you hit the edge of your doubts and come out the other side of your misery the person you were always meant to be.” - Chala Flitfair

“I've got blood on the edge'a my snarl and darkness brewing in the edges of my eyes, but despite that, I gotta fight who I am and become somebody better.” - Sherwood Stinson

“I never had the chance ta live. I was born a boy'a the streets, hidin' under the shadow'a chance and misery. And as my brother and I fell from our own grace with the swingin' of a single crowbar, we lost who we were. As if we played a game of Russian Roulette with our demons, only for them ta laugh as we pulled the trigger 'gainst our skulls with a fully loaded chamber.” - Sherwood Stinson

“I look ta the sky, wonderin' as it rains, if it's my father's tears splashin' 'gainst my cheeks. I never had a chance to meet the man with a smile that could light up the corners of the world and a trench coat worn in the memory of my brother. But I can't help but imagine, when I bring this hammer down, he wouldn't be proud of this man I am.” - Sherwood Stinson

“Love and life are lived in the blink of an eye, so don't dare go blind to yourself, cause all the beautiful things in life'll pass you by.” - Elwood Sparrvitz

“My life was fraught with trouble and misery until I stumbled into the bar, smoke on my breath, the scent of trouble rising up from the bar's wooden floorboard. It was there, in a place of misery and part time sorrows I met the love'a my life, and God damn, life ain't never been so beautiful. I look inta Sandie's eyes and I see a life worth livin', a love worth fightin' for. And when I hear the laughter'a my children, I know I've found home in the hearts'a love an' family.” - Elwood Sparrvitz

“I was livin' five miles from myself, stumblin' and hitchhikin' on a road that weren't mine. And as I threw my thumb up, pointed at the stormy sky, a woman stopped by my side and asked if I needed a ride. And as we drove off inta the distant horizon, I met myself once more.” - Elwood Sparrvitz

“My home reeked of death painted on old scarred wallpaper, and under the silver shadow of my father, I learned what it is, to die. Death comes in many forms, and it isn't always a scythe she uses to reap. With human fingers and beastly eyes she comes for us in the form of those we know, greeting us with a smile so wicked and a song so gentle, lulling the lost ones to their eternal sleep in the emptiness of their lives.” - Calzell Flickerfeid

“I can hardly escape my mind, but I can say with certainty that I've escaped who I am.” - Calzell Flickerfeid

“It was in the white walls of an old mental ward I met who I'd become, sipping on the darkness I knew too well. And with a blank and hazed stare I can say, my mind never left that mental ward.” - Calzell Flickerfeid

“Away from myself I fell, drifting through emptiness and fate, death reaping little pieces of me as they broke from off my figure. And as I closed my eyes and accepted this new, violent identity of me, I awoke in a field of hay and wheat, night sky hungry, a blood washed knife held gentle in my hand. And by my side, covered in crimson smiles and wounds, I found me, staring blankly and hazed into the abyss of night and madness.” - Calzell Flickerfeid

[vicepoems-blog]

A collection of poems by a space alien named Abby

A twig lies in a sea of leaves Surrounded by the others Some cling the whole year round, to trees O’er fallen twigs, they hover Fallen down, ground leaves dye brown- no wind to carry lovers. Breeze blew by and knocked her off the branch, now sits here, smothered By mud, dust, sticks, rain drops, soft licks- as beaks pull back the covers. Digging through dead to search for life, to keep the wings a-flutter Twigs lack a comfort nest to rest when nature brings on thunder. ——————— Spinning downward Whirlpool drowning Bitter breezes Trees are frowning

Clocks tick faster Pressures mounting Pale as plaster Heart beats, bouncing

Flashing forward Day dreams bounding Where thoughts are bright With more profound things No present, past Sustain resounding Wood turns to ash Mind stuck in lounging Feeble attempts to accept surroundings Sweet struggles shift soul into higher grounding.

———————

Feather blowing in the wind Drifted close, a breeze-blown friend Felt you as my fingers bent Softness surrounding a slightly snapped stem I wake up cold, dreams of a gem Made up a mold, filled in split ends Carefree energy holds sweet things, as friends Strive to brush off, with clashing intent. Aiming to find, though passing of time Strength to overcome this misalignment Try to find reason, but can’t compile this Classic diversion of defiant Values envisioned, blind-state of content Drown in feelings sparked through wine and Sell them off as cheap consignment Try not to let drive fall behind, then Wake up to find how far the time’s bent Words allow to redefine, vent Sorting through jumbled letters, intertwining when Stacking rows and columns of rhymes, hence Attempts to make sense through unproved science From afar, I’ll hold you in the highest A cloud above the desert’s dryness.

———————

(When I don’t feel like writing, sometimes I make puzzles. The following poem is a mashup of several that seemed to fit together.) Cycles continue, much like the seasons Reflecting through fall, letting go when the leaves bend Unlike springtime sun, spreading soil to plant seeds in Trying not to give in- to feelings short of reason. Leaves trickle to the ground from the treetop, so tall Hanging from a limb, fearing the fall Exhales turn to mist as I gaze all the stars Perched high and pretty but they’re still so far. Not much of a singer- Though rhymes form through fingers No matter how loud, soft notes often linger Drawn out, sustained; though the spark's released like lightening As water retreats, tsunami wave's heightening. That which lifts you up Can also bring you down But which feelings should you trust When the sun comes back around?

——————— Flower moon envy as May nears its end  Full- Glowing green grass, feelings break, begin to bend  Filling up the night sky- hypnotizing sphere Glares down with a cross-eye, though it’s up I peer

Wind breaks the silence- an unknown car creeps by Try to be compliant, try to let go, though with night Comes unwanted feedback from the corners of the mind Ideas from tiny seed sacks grew too big- no longer mine

Sky so bright with moonlight- Cannot hide it from the blind Perhaps I hold on too tight- With no reason to the rhyme This will dissolve one day- As the moon, it wanes Hoping to forget the times love was confused for pain

Cycles continue- much like the seasons Reflecting through fall, letting go when the leaves bend Warm springtime sunlight, spreading soil to plant seeds in Trying not to give in- to feelings short of reason.

———————

Rays shine onto your skin Comforting bliss Feeling lingers through the evening  Hovering mist The next day wake Sensations replaced By a stinging cold chill Warm in the face That which lifts you up Can also bring you down Which feelings can be trusted When the sun comes back around? ——————— Time goes by so slowly, that time can do so much Light travels so quickly, stars fades within my clutch Pleasure blocked by pain Words dumbed down to bluffs Ever hiding ‘neath the surface Run out of feelings I can trust.

———————

Lingering in space comprehending the flying of time The stars within night’s blackness gleam like silver on a dime Lying under covers, confined- Am I the one committing the crime? Why hide trapped in space, when I could break free flying? Later perched on the rooftop alone, nothing to prove, only nature’s soft tone Sentimental space cadet searching for home- hair dancing through soft winds blown Sitting lonely in silence, patience, compliance- mind journeys through skies like a dove Searching for guidance amidst the horizons, hoping fear will not keep her from love.

——————— Problem, solution, climax, revolution Confusion, illusion, psychosis, delusion Impairment, improvement, resolution As seasons spin round like a lazy susan.

———————

Of the lovely letters that make up the words Like feathers make up the wings of a bird A good man told me these beautiful things The flow of the sentences made my heart ring “It was no pleasant accident Going over the facts again In my head, writing like I have a sack of pens No happy coincidence, more like synchronism Collective consciousness shines; light beams from a prism Our lives defined by choices executed Relationships of love or others ill suited The prism reflected through eternity & fate Life holds surprises like flowers to a vase. One of these days you’ll be something great But first you must open the eyes on your face.”

———————

Some fade away Into the dark, they go Toward their own light Surrender to their own flow Not all paths coincide But I’m happy to have seen The light in your eyes Hope you know how much it means. Wishing you well on your journeys And accept this here divide We’ll meet somewhere in the middle When the tide isn’t so high. Perhaps during a full moon Within glee our gloom Reconnect once we’ve slept it off Once we’re back in tune.

———————

A seed not meant to be planted in the ocean But sprouted anyway, leaking toxic notions Molecules multiplied, infesting as erosion Rippled- butterfly effecting- cold water encrosion.  Never meant to happen Though thought maybe it’d make sense To drop the seed into what gives it life Not knowing the expense Too much, too little, split-end bow to a fiddle In attempt to build one up, one succeeds to belittle.

———————

The earth spirals Through one universe, of many Just a drop into the ocean To a millionaire, a penny Two strange combinations Of stardust combine Weaving webs of fate together All threads intertwined Shifting the energy Surrounding the subconscious Thus aligning fates awaiting No need to be so cautious.

———————

I fell through a haze Of polluted vapor Landed in a daze Of cursive on paper Slid down a rainbow, as prisms bent light, Led by a breeze, concealed from plain sight. Leaves trickle to the ground from the treetop, so tall Hanging from a limb, fearing the fall Exhales turn to mist as I gaze all the stars Perched high and pretty, but they’re still so far.

———————

Nights spent in silence Staring through glass A fish-eye lens view; Distorted mask All things unmoving Not living, just still Monotonous existence In attempt to refill. A knock on my door Creating vibrations; Stir up a breeze In my imagination. Numbness ceased; Then turned back- Hesitation As I started to see ‘Tis mere infatuation.

———————

Although I feel a failure Only hope to succeed All the times pushed over I got up off my knees Yearning to feel enlightened But must water the seed To grow from a mere speck in soil Into a Redwood tree. Although I’ve been mistaken I try to try my best ‘Cause after blind risks taken I accept past regrets; Stepping stones to evolve Tree limbs grown to climb As the world quickly revolves ‘Round its axis like a vine. Although I’m still a lonesome Girl within a home A recluse with my piano Used to being alone No room for late night phone calls Or knockings on my door Refuse slip or fall Into traps- No more. And although sometimes I cry, Listen to music til I hear- Laugh away my tears And let the sorrow die. Although I still look back On what could have been I know I am still young And wise deep down within. Although life’s in the process And I fear what’s coming next, All around I look for kindness That’s when I feel my best.

——————— Can’t shake it off Try to walk a straight line Taking utmost care The burrs still bind Needle of a pine Let our true colors shine But all that you saw Was a thorn left behind Thought the perfect combination Of stardust combined The universe had Shown its signs But stars realign as You discard your kindness Search for your new Highness And push me aside.

———————

Dandelion fluff floats in the wind Bouncing off obstacles thick and thin Sticking around in puddles, on bark Then the sun evaporates or erosion sparks

Pushing the fluff on with the rhythm Of life, the torus, ohms, prisms It’s all a part of something intertwined Like a ware to the silver; needle to the pine.

The cycle flows on, the fluff comes to a halt Intentional, like the laws of Gestalt? Is it at a standstill for all time, or will life Come out of this fluff like the stars in the night?

The seed is attached to the wings of this thing That carry it far as if on pogo springs It drops onto the grass Sits for a little And sighs when the time passes without a dribble

Of water to push it into the soil Now at a standstill, seed yearns to uncoil Sprout the roots deep into the earth Serve the purpose for which its mother had birthed

———————

Flower in a vase Sits by the window Sunshine to gaze Lounging in limbo

Soft, colorful- to the eyes, appealing Delicate, thoughtful, petals gently peeling Down the stem- day by day- wilting and jaded Drying up- life source evaporated

No soil to expand roots into the earth Rock ceiling, glass bottom, what is it worth? Forgotten, downtrodden, trapped- caught in- can’t blossom Temporary eye candy- since the store it was bought in

Displayed the beauty, marked it cheap, providing extra bonus seeds Flower in a vase, nothing more to see But a dry stem and some fallen leaves.

———————

Mind tells me I’m tired Due to my lack of sleep My chest has been on fire Since I got up to eat As breakfast settles in I merge onto the highway Just half an hour late Lounged in bed to make the dreams stay I step into the class To take notes with my mind Making note of face expressions Others often turn a blind Cheek- Like they aren’t there For it’s common occurrence To focus on the teachings Rather than the ones a'learnin’ I gather up my bags And I head straight for the door Thinking for a second, that the class was just a bore Although I know its purpose, and what teachings are for I suddenly remember, to this day, there’s so much more. I stroll out to the side walk As I wave a friend so-long Until next time, do yours, I mine, And find where we belong. Now speeding down the road With some music and caffeine I suddenly remember That I had the strangest dream. What it was, I don’t recall But it made no sense at all If only I’d remember Before I walked out of the hall The path we take to re-awake To glide out of the realms Which guide from subconscious Peaceful to overwhelmed. Walking up the driveway I miss a couple beats My skirt just blows up with the wind While cars pass on the street. Taking note I shouldn’t mind For nothing could’ve changed The instant that had just flown by One moment, no exchange. I laugh it off, take off my socks, and sit down for a minute I think of you, energy blue, your head, what thoughts are in it? Distract my mind, step into time, this time within the present Realize I’m no longer tired; the moon is waxing crescent. The day has been repetitive, yet everyday is new Each and every day on earth creates a better you Negative and positive effect our everyday But the way in which with cope with both speaks all there is to say.

———————

Memories Consequences Hopping through Barbed wire fences All alone, forever will I long for someone here to fill The gap within this lonesome space Have reason to fill an empty vase Never going to settle For a broken loop pedal Or unspoken words Evaporating from a kettle Repeating back all that was left in the past- The roads that led to this place on the map Grateful for this life beyond what I conceive I dream of the day one will share it with me.

———————

Water rushes, violent currents Collects stems, leaves, chaos divergent Dreaming of times, amidst the verdant Open fields-  Divine permanence. Focus, though undeniably nervous Forgetting all reasons to serve the purpose Crashing like current waves seen on the surface No more room to misinterpret. As so above, ever so below Underneath is where roots start to grow The surface crumbles- Aligned dominos Spiraling up- Arpeggios Sadness lingers, rhymes form through fingers Pianissimo- Soft notes often linger The fight inside strikes out like lightening Retreats on the surface; tsunami wave heightening. Eyes leak- Letting them flow, ‘cause I can Tears rolling down- catching them in my hand Feeling them land, running down from my fingers Too wet to play keys, I let the sustain linger I knock one time, two, but no knob on the door Sometimes it feels nice to lie on the floor No sense in sitting in soft, cushioned seats Discomfort distracts as the flashbacks retreat.

———————

A door opens from behind I hear it, but must keep Walking my feet forward Afraid to miss a beat. Should I turn around? Ignore the sound? Drown it out- unclaimed lost and found? It calls me back, yet on I walk Foot scrapes by an unseen rock I trip, I fall, then turn on back ‘Though the unknown lies beyond black Shadows creeping through the creak Instinct overrides fear- yet cannot speak. Will the black shadowed mystery lead to a light? In our own universe, we’ll take off in flight. You could be my string, but I am the kite Striving to soar- Though scared of the height Above clouds is where sun shines the brightest Where the moon hypnotizes The stars shine, ignited Turned me on like a light switch Heart’s being guided Intuition ignited Why must I fight it? ——————— Flowers in the spring Hang from trees where birds sing Their whistling songs ring Like a guitar with twelve strings. The petals white and soft Wind blows, stems sneeze them off They cover the driveway In a perfect world, the trees could hold on To their leaves; all that’s gone But cold air breaks the bond The leaves must move along. Much can be learned from the nature of the petals Letting go of the bass only allows treble To sing with ambience- glockenspiel metals Melodies must reach their peak long before they settle. The flowers turn to soil and the water turns to rain To pour down on the garden, rebirth’s infinite change No allotted range, no bird feeders hang- Tossing seeds onto the ground; no limits or restraint. ———————

Life blossoms Along with the trees As summer approaches Sweet humming of bees So much to let go So much to take in So much to remember Memories set in Surrounded by love And new found joy Spiraling up Like a hula hoop toy Sipping tea from a cup As we sit in the grass Sweet emotions erupt Like a volcanic mass ——————— You know what it feels like to Be an option lacking chance? But I’m not being lied to ‘Cause we both know where I stand I hopped onto the back burner You fiddled with you pants Perhaps I’m a slow learner Never fit your puzzled plans Improvised, laid out by the thought process of your dick Melting me a little bit; it also makes me sick Running ‘round through sacred squares- still I’m here, yet you lack Respect to ever turn around and see who’s looking back Burner holding heat- You lie, asleep Furthest from fresh meat, though when bored, you make that leap Regardless of your mind games and seldom-proclaimed conceit We both know I’m that shiny thing you never wished to keep.

———————

Erasing drawn lines, I step back in time, imaginary lenses

In attempt to commence contrasting life paths, land beyond the fences Throughout time, the reasons and rhymes thought up to numb our senses Fall through the mind while seasons and time fly like the light, while prisms bend it It’s sad as can be how the earth and the seeds live on, yet so pretentious Going about the day like we’ll get another, yet you’ll never know just when it Will all go black, like wings of a bat- never cherish a moment to mend it. Feeding the fire that taints our spirit Search for an answer as though we’re near it Feeling the chaos before we can hear it Take in reflections- staring into mirror bits Spread on the ground as vibrations, sounds Travel on through; collectively resound Down they crash, reform to the sea Waves of music caress the weak As the strong let go and minds wander free United by projected energies.

———————

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

What Comes After

Contrary to how everyone seemed to believe it happened, Draco didn’t wake up with a gasp loud enough to ring around the room. He didn’t shoot up in bed and didn’t look around in wild shock.

He woke slowly, with utmost difficulty, his mind shrieking with the effort of throwing off the cruelly vivid images that still flashed by in quick succession. It was almost as if the nightmares sunk their claws in deeper, with sadistic relish, once he became aware of them, trying desperately to tug him in deeper as he valiantly waded through the almost unyielding, tar-like puddle his subconscious was seeped in.

And when he finally did regain full consciousness, his eyes would open slowly, still heavy with slumber, and still fighting off the last vestiges of that night’s agonisingly terrifying ephialtes. 

He found himself on his side, curled up with one hand under his cheek, the other jammed between his knees. He was damp with sweat; his thin nightwear stuck to his skin. And yet, he was shivering as if he’d just come in from a snow storm. His heart thundered in his chest and he could feel the panic pumping through him - but through it all, he registered the vague relief; the kind that came after an episode like this, intense enough that it made you slightly dizzy.

He blinked for a few minutes, swallowing past the dryness in his throat, the moonlight so blindingly bright as it crept in through the gaps in the curtains that it made his eyes water.

It was definitely the moonlight – that’s why his eyes were streaming.

As if the dream, utterly horrifying and twisted beyond assimilation as it had been, could result in tears. Pft.

He sat up slowly, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and biting his lip to stop the trembling.  He’d somehow managed to kick every last inch of the covers off himself – no wonder he was cold. And yet, sweat covered every inch of him; his fair hair dark with moisture, his back heavily damp, his neck and armpits wet, even the backs of his knees sticky and slippery with perspiration.

He stood on weak legs – nearly five hours of sleep and he still felt utterly exhausted. His eyes were still streaming.

In the shower, he let the Charm turn the water as hot as he could stand it, beyond the point of comfort. He shut his eyes and let the heat beat down on him, desperately seeking comfort from it.

It was an old habit now – running to the shower when he woke from a nightmare. It was something he’d begun doing to avoid Pansy during those first few years after the War when they’d shared a flat. She’d demand that he tell her what he’d seen, that they talk about it.

Draco never wanted to talk about it – any of it. What was he even supposed to say?

‘I watched the Dark Lord murder my own mother – torture her until she was catatonic, and then slit her throat.’

‘I ran for my life, speeding through Hogwarts, until I finally slipped off the edge of the Astronomy Tower.’

‘I entered my old room at the Manor and saw dozens of corpses hanging from the ceiling, my parents among them.’

He could hardly bear to recall the details in the privacy of his own mind but to actually say them out loud?

He pulled on the terry robe hung behind the door, his skin fever hot even after he’d dried himself. His carelessly towelled hair dripped thin rivulets down the nape of his neck, down the ridge of his spine. He sank onto the cushioned window seat in the living room, drew his legs up and didn’t even blink when the steaming hot mug of hot chocolate was pressed into his hands.

Harry clambered on opposite him, hugging a cushion to himself as he raised his own mug to his lips. His hair was completely beyond help and he blinked slowly behind his lopsided spectacles, thick, white sleep gathered at the corners of his vivid eyes, making the sooty lashes stick together and clump up. The t-shirt he wore had once been black, now faded to a horrible, lifeless grey, the seam over his right shoulder coming apart, the material worn thin. His feet were bare and wiggled in the frigid breeze that swept over them from outside.

He didn’t look at Draco.

Harry never wanted to talk about it; didn’t even want to acknowledge it. Draco’s chest ached with how much he loved this man.

“Teddy said ‘fuck’ today,” Harry said blandly, making Draco snort into his drink and hurriedly wipe his mouth with one, still-trembling hand. “I nearly died.”

Draco’s sharp intake of breath at the casually uttered words had Harry turning immediately to look at him. He could hear his own breath, loud and slightly ragged, could feel the way his eyes had gone wide…could almost picture the image he’d been trying to banish from his head for the last twenty minutes – the empty green gaze, the sturdy body, tanned and lightly muscled, lying in a pool of blood—

“He looked me right in the eye and said, ‘Give me a fucking chocolate biscuit, Harry.” The words tumbled over each other, the sentence hurriedly thrown at him, expression impassive except for a small furrow in the scarred forehead, a slightly frantic gleam in his anxiously warm eyes.

Draco set his mug down, leaned forward and cupped Harry’s face with both hands. As they kissed, Draco could feel the warmth he’d yearned for, and hadn’t received, in the shower seep through him, warming him up as if a Patronus bounded around inside him, fiercely butting the cold away. His eyes burned wetly behind his closed lids and the lump in his throat threatened to rise higher. He forced it all back – he found the strength to force it back right there in his arms.

When they pulled away, he took a few seconds to simply breathe before opening his eyes. And then he said,

“I’d love a fucking chocolate biscuit too, actually.” His voice shook, but he was aware of his own smile as he spoke.

Harry snorted over a beaming grin, pressed a wet kiss to his forehead and slipped away to fetch the tin of biscuits. His warmth lingered.

And later, back in bed, in the tight circle of Harry’s embrace, Draco fell asleep a lot quicker than he’d woken up.

[jeff3]

Haiku Birthday

J.D. Hayes-Canell

The girl with eyes akimbo

keeps her face aimed at the floor

Pigeon toed on knocking knees

she crab walks towards the door

2/19/95

The Party’s Over

Pumpkins smashed upside down in a ditch

X-mas trees brown at the end of driveways

Dried turkey skeletons for everyone.

Eggshells dyed in the trash

Crumpled valentines skitter in the wet wind

Past the charred firecracker corpses and sparklers black and barren.

Everyone has gone home

there’s the trash to take out.

3/8/95

Ethereal Espresso

I live vicariously as you, in sweat and heterosex.

Beat ghosts lie upon the pages snapping phantom fingers

chanting “Cool, cool”.

They sip ethereal espresso and groove jazz

while you and Kerouak trade lies in a duel

like sex.

12/23/94

Reptile Season

It’s the night, x-mas time.

The city sheds it drab grey skin 

and breaks out in livid spots.

12/25/94

Warm wind caressing

Brings the scent of coming rain

Robins herald Spring. 

201203.07

HAIKU BIRTHDAY

You wake, stretch and yawn

So today is your birthday

Different but the same. 

201203.07

I write without ink on no paper 

I read a book with no pages

I call on a phone with no dial, no buttons. 

What is reality?

3/20/12

Blossom scented breeze

New green of young grass growing

My backyard in Spring. 

4/18/12

Words. Nothing but words

Convey all meaning, mine, yours,

A haiku birthday. 

4/18/12

For Marie, Patricia, Seth and Marci

This spring has come with no green. 

It is barren dust and somber ash watered by a harsh bitter rain. 

Wilted blossoms and rank weeds greet my steps, crows utter curses rough and jagged to my ears. 

5/15/2012. 

Disney Life

I don't lead a Disney life

Filled with twittering birds

And animate inanimate objects. 

I don't have it like Peter Pan

Sitting out adulthood on a whim

Waiting for the tick-tock of adventure to start. 

But I've wished upon a star. 

1/11/13

What We Wanted For You

(For Ryan)

A time ago, when we were young 

We smiled and planned. 

We were going to feed you on laughter

We were going to pour you glasses of knowledge, all that we knew. 

We were children then, 

Knowing only what we knew of life, 

Wanting to give it all to you,

Wanting you to join in the fun that was our world. 

That is what we wanted for you, the madness & the love,

The mayhem & the laughs. 

Only you know if we succeeded. 

1/11/13

Table Exiting the Long Room

You called me one day 

To say you were dying. 

Don't cry, you said

I won't I said. 

I didn't. Not then, not yet. 

I wanted to, but I'm waiting. 

Ray scattered your ashes in

Rockwood. 

I know the place, it's where I plan to cry

It's where I will remember 

your laugh

Your love

Your heart

That crooked smile you had when you were up to something

The look on your face when you would knock on my door

Asking to stay because whatever

Woman you were with had kicked you out again. 

Wish you were still here

so I could say hi just one more time. 

201209.23

Day After

It's the day after Sandy 

New York is powerless

New Jersey is scandalous 

Upstate we're watching the winds feeling the rain 

but the lights are still on. 

Hawaiillusion

Snow piles behind the panes

Kept at bay by walls and propane. 

Rocking sleepy in my chair,

Cat lapped, cozy in my sweater. 

On tv scenes of beach sand 

awash in seawater & weeds

Beside me tropical plants doze in their pots. 

Aloha. 

201212.22

 There are moments in life when we are capable of anything...

The body at the bottom of the stairs. 

201112.22

Death Came Visiting in May. 

Saw some of my friends, 

called on some of my relatives. 

He turned no one down, 

snubbed neither the poor nor middle class,

Grinned as he passed us by to give my brother in law his last ride. 

I hope he goes elsewhere for his summer vacation.

201206.11

Music in my Clothes Seems like Saturday Night.  

I was so possible that I had to be built on incomprehensibility. 

I do not panic...I smile. 

201302.14

Butterfly Storms

My soul is taut, it needs to bend and flow, to expand and contract, to fly free and to rest gently. 

It yearns to skip lightly through the aether, gathering the whims and hopes, the ghosts of dreams unfulfilled 

billowing out, blessing all with peace and love. 

201310.09

Cat hair & Dust bunnies. 

Lying on the valley floor with wheeling stars above

Rain touching feather soft the grass

Tell him I asked, I asked you why

The only answer: the rain. 

201407.03

By The Light Of A Robot's Eyes

I hold a virtual image of you in my mind but it fades, pixel by pixel. my heart yearns to hang on yearns to hold on to wisps, to fog.   

In the silent dusk my mind slowly draws to a close.

201306.30

Always Kiss Me Goodnight

There are times you drive me virtually mad

With all the craziness you do. 

There are times you are so furious you lose control and rant from the insanity of my life. 

But when you're gone. 

When the dust settles. 

When the silence falls. 

And all I've ever wanted was for you to shut up for five minutes!

I miss you more than anyone,

more than anything

and though I know how to live alone

I can't bear it without you.

201311.29

Hotel Kitchen @ One am. 

Ralph Kramden Was a Bus Driver

Thusly we come to know

That some doors remain forever closed 

and we are held bound to our fate 

By chains we forged with pieces of our souls. 

201311.29

Flotsam

I'm just passing through

You're just passing through 

It's how we live

How we are

Passing through time, space the lives of those we meet

The things we think are real are transient 

The things we think are solid are dust.

Liquid flows

Time flows

And we are fascinated by the firelight shadows on the cavern's wall.   201404.13

MAYA

A clear voice that sprung from silence sorrow shame

A voice which gave hope love and peace to many

A voice which encouraged never scorned

A voice of freedom and compassion

A voice as clear as hope

A voice as strong as love

Has drifted softly into silence once more. 

201405.28

First Day

Summer wind paper napkin plastic bag dance swirling pirouettes about each other, about the sidewalk, about my feet. 

Walking down the hill I join the dance. 

201406.23

Dance of the Lightening Bugs

It's no secret

How the universe turns

It's no marvel to me why life must spin

and spin and spin

Rumpelstiltskin super novas blossom as they whirl and I, 

I long to cry. 

201407.03

Where Did The Words Go

Out of mouths through the ears and away

We wasted time wasted breath wasted life with words

Let them twist us turn us scorch us burn us

Let them touch us bathe us help us save us

Life and time molded distance carved caverns

Perhaps they fled there. 

201407.04

Staying Strangers

Alone together

How we travel through our lives cocooned in iPads iPods 

Idontwanttoknow, selfmusic 

selfmovies selfphones selfish 

Insulated from the now

From each other 

from life. 

Thrown together by happenstance 

By circumstance by chance

We retreat hibernate

Back away from all of us

And into ourselves. 

It will come to no good. 

201407.19

Watching Shakespeare on TV

The commons chatter aimlessly 

While culture and wisdom play before them content in its own self showing no ego in its teaching, ever teaching by its own example

And still the hairless monkeys jabber. 

201407.20 

Soft Dog

When I die 

all the things that I have gathered

Will be scattered to the winds

All the kisses I have known 

Will blow away Never to return

And all that I have said or done 

Shall pass into memories

Held in a drawer

Or a book. 

When you die

All the things that you have gathered 

Will scatter

And no one will ever know

How you felt today. 

201408.04

Tender is the time

  We spend just lying side by side

Nowhere to go, no place to be     

  But where we are. 

Softly our two hearts

  Beating in time to the song of our souls

Open to each other, and we smile

  Because we are one. 

Soon our time is spent

  We slip apart, away and back to normal

A small ache for the parting hour

And our tender times. 

201408.07

Summer thunder crashes taking the ears by storm hissing cats and dogs fall pouncing on the ground making puddles lightening squalls across the sky black cloudy growls slowly fade and soon the mice come out to play. 

201408.17

My new shoes feel good 

I like how they hold my feet.

A year from now they’ll be old shoes,

And I will have forgotten

How they felt

In the days of the old shoes

201403.16

Way back when I used to wake up early mornings 

When weekends were like Christmas and summer lasted forever

When we were good guys or bad guys and our heroes were on tv

When problems were small things that grown-ups could solve

And kisses made it all better.

When did those days slip into greater worries, into times of grey

With nothing clear or sure.

No going back, no returns, no panacea for the soul

Just a voice, a fading echo which claims “You’re it.”

201807.07

My soul longs for the peace of a monastery 

The whispers of the hermit’s cave.

It calls out in silent plea for solace from the din, parting from the throng.

But I don’t know where to turn, how to take that step

And I’m afraid to be alone.

201807.07

Things his mother made;

Christmas things made by a loving hand for her son.

She’s long since passed away but he held those memories close.

Now he is gone as well, unexpectedly pulled from my life and all I have are memories

And these things his mother made

3/11/2019

I’m tired of the sorrow and the sadness

The explosive burst of tears and the creeping clutch of emptiness.

I don’t know why you had to go,

I will never know

You were always full of love and I was not

I never stopped guarding my heart against this very thing

I never stopped building walls against this very day 

And when it happened

When the end for you came

The barriers melted, the walls crumbled 

and all they kept out was you

3/11/2019

I was looking at our garden today.

I know its winter and everything is brown.

But between the deer and the rabbits

They killed the growing dreams we had; the roses, the willow tree.

I laughed when you brought it home

“We live on a sand dune” I said, “A willow won’t grow here.”

But it did, for the whole of spring and summer it survived.

But not this winter, very little survived this winter.

3/11/2019