#akma

[spacehost]

do you have anything to say ?

“ fuck . . . you . “

there’s a euphoria that eases away the pain of his own bruised lungs , even when every breath he takes comes with a crackling push through a crushed windpipe . he bites into his lip until the metallic taste of his own blood floods his own mouth and pools on his tongue in a way that makes him scowl , but soon the pressure pushes him back against the wall in a way that makes him swallow his curses like bitter medicine . the other’s hands hold his waist in place in a way that makes him hiss , but it’s the sudden buck of goro’s hips that lift akma off of his feet with a barely audible gasp through a hand quickly clasp over his mouth . he’s not needy for intimacy , he thinks internally , serenading himself with the softest of white lies , and even if he was , goro wasn’t someone he could seek out for such a high . @gh9ul , instead, is someone he could seek out for consistency ; someone to slowly guide a palm across the chest that he had once kicked in , fingers pressing against that sore chest in a way that makes akma struggle to breathe .

he wanted his feet touching the ground for pride’s sake — so he could look at the former yakuza with a fire in his chest and spit you’re never gonna own me into his face . instead , the undersides of his knees rest on the hooks of goro’s hips for a moment before arms loop under and adjust , pulling the enforcer down the wall until he’s dipping below goro’s gaze . he claws at goro’s shoulders for balance as every snap of hips into where they meet folds him up into the wall behind him . he doesn’t know that there’s a different heat in his eyes now , he doesn’t acknowledge that rebellious grunts have melted into subtle pants for air and he doesn’t dare breathe life into how his golden eyes dip down , his face shifting to deny the underboss the pleasure of how his expression must be shifting to something he never thought himself capable of .

akma hated it , he hated that in this moment his body wore bite marks of broken skin , that he sacrificed dominance to someone that would sooner rather see him six feet under than satisfied — that in this small space that they shared , akma , the devil without a heart , chose goro to fill the void . he places both palms on goro’s chest and feels the other slip deeper inside in a way that catches him by surprise ; in a way that causes akma’s arms to wrap around goro’s neck . pull yourself up , the voice in his head almost pleas . show yourself mercy , it shouts again as his brow twists . don’t let him fucking win — but his thoughts are silenced by the whimpering moan that escapes his lips . fuck . fuckfuckfuck . he doesn’t dare look up , but even so he can feel the smirk cascading over him . “ shut — the fuck up . “ he musters all of his strength to make it sound more demand than timid request , even when it comes from bloodied lip , even with teeth bitten into a cheek that’s felt the kiss of goro's fist more than any lover .

[acridtongue]

CLOSED FOR: @eatsgod: akma!

' what's it like to make love ' akma had asked. an electric crackle filled the room : love. what was it like to make love. silence encapsulates barom, mind whirring with the variables. frustration was birthed first, worn into the knit of his brows to the ceiling. love making didn't sound right --- how could a couple make what was already present? barom would better equate it to showing love / giving love, experiencing what was already there. their mouth opens and then closes, a small puff of laughter escaping. " well, you'd have to love me first. "

that is barom's first answer, spoken to the popcorned ceiling and not the hovering akma. you couldn't make what wasn't there --- obsession, infatuation, lust, none compared to the gut-wrenching, twisting feeling that was love. the monstrous thing. though … maybe, akma and barom could make love. barom could spin and weave memories, instill emotions of all kinds. maybe he could make a play of love ; a caricature. barom would never equate what he felt for akma to love, either. he hoped. a smile grows against his face as he moves smoothly, sitting up against the edge now. knees cage akma's legs, neck cranes upwards as if looking to the heavens in reverence. a hand lifts to rest against akma's thigh. " … but if you're really so curious, you could pretend to love me, just a night. i'll mold you a memory. "

[guzortasi]

AYYYY BEN BUGÜN EHLİYETİMİ ALDIM

[papermoonknight]

Champions (2020) Issue 2

[bclletragedie]

                           @eatsgod

LOCATION: yami ink. FOR: akma do.

𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 reviews, just like everyone else. veronica had several tattoos ( many in places very few got to see ) -- but was very selective when it came to the artist who did them. they were delicate pieces that told the story of her life across her flesh, the story of a woman untethered, unchained. akma was well-regarded, reputable, so it seemed. the fact that he had openings on the sooner side certainly helped, but his reputation certainly proceeded him.

from first glance she does not seem like the type to have as many tattoos as she does -- no stranger to spending hours on a table. this back piece would take time, sure, but it was something she knew would be worth it.

last night had been a particularly interesting show -- causing her to leave the godfather far later than she anticipated. and while she must be back tonight, ready to do it all again.. the early morning exhaustion has shown itself along her face.

" akma, is it? " she asks, adjusting her purse over her shoulder. a delicate cardigan appears to shroud her, almost swallow her whole. removing it reveals a black shirt, back open. veronica drapes the sweater over her forearm as she extends an elegant hand. the rehearsed persona truly never does leave her, even in the light of day. " veronica castillo. your eleven am. "

[ichorofthelastlament]

The vae have plagued the land of Kasht for as long as man could remember. They once dominated the world before being chased away into the darkest recesses of the night but never truly gone, always hunting for the next human to become their meal. After eons of lurking the shadows the vae have become bold again, feeding more frequently and spreading their domain.

But that's where you come in. You, the chosen heir of light itself, the one who holds the power of the sun in their veins. The one prophesied to lead a group of heroes like yourself to save not only your people, but all of humanity.

A bronze age inspired fantasy setting, don't expect a one-one real world counterpart/historical accuracy.

Customize your heir: appearance, gender, pronouns, name, personality

Build relationships with your fellow companions on your way to save humanity

Choose how you feel about being thrust into herodom

Combat the Vae, beings who that take inspiration from vampires and fae. Or don't.

Decide how you ultimately traverse saving the world. Will you follow the prophecy or find another path?

More to be determined

MC [That's you]

You grew up in the desert kingdom of Akma under Mother Azira's House. Like many others who'd lost their parents you were trained to be a skilled member of society, you had many options but none so illustrious as being a god's chosen heir. Yet life is full of surprises.

The Bosom Buddy (she/her, trans woman)

You've known Periphae, or Peri as most call her, for much of your life. She is your best friend and closest companion. Working under the Fragrant Lotus, a well renowned brothel under Matriarch Azira's control, she has never been much of a fighter. She's a playful gossip who does a horrid job at hiding her anxiety, its hard to accept that she's chosen to venture out with you of her own will.

The Shield (she/he/they, genderfluid)

Eurus is a warrior from the eastern region of Saeyah who's been trained to fight along side the heir of light all their life. They've anticipated the day where they could fight alongside you, as is their destiny according to the prophecy. They have a carefree 'go with the flow' attitude about most things. Your safety and this quest for the world are not one of those.

The Chosen One The Guide (they/them, nonbinary)

Amani was a priestess that once held the title of the heir of light, they were thought to be the one to inherit the mark of the sun until the Day of Blessings came and it went to you. Now their years of training are being used to help you save all of humanity. A fact that makes them quiet bitter towards you, but Eurus says Amani is haughty and harsh with everyone.

The Mountain (she/her, cis woman)

Valeska is a warrior from the gloom infested lands of the Dhaga, a place full of various nomadic clans. She is quiet quiet skilled with stone magic, a trait they treat with complete disregard and prefers to rely on raw physical strength. You aren't sure if she's cocky or apathetic, but the claims her muscle power is far more useful that her prodigal magical talent. All the same she offers you a helping hand on your quest despite not caring much for the cause.

The Crowned Rose (he/him, transman)

Nymphie is one of the Seven Vae Lords, the one most beloved by the Vae Queen no less. He dutifully enacts his mistress' will though despite his loyalty he does not appear personally invested in her grand plans. Whatever they may be, he has no intention of telling you them. At best he appears amused by you and your compatriots attempts to fight back against the vae, you are no threat in his eyes so he takes joy in partaking in a game of cat and mouse with you all. But no amount of playful gestures can hide the danger they pose to your group.

The Rose's Thorn (he/him, )

Mars is also a Vae Lord in his own right, though rather than pledging loyalties to the Queen he bows to Nymphie and Nymphie alone. He serves as Nymphie's right hand without complaint despite being their polar opposite. For whatever reason he has orders to keep an eye on your group, you don't know if his presence is constant as he is only seen if he wishes to be. Luckily he rarely interferes with your plans, content to observe. He is quiet and blunt with his words, and though he does not appear to have ill intent it is hard to ignore the occasional hungry looks he send your way.

[More to come]

[evimolkurtarbeni]

Burnumu yerinden sökücem şimdi akma artik mk ltfn

[hayatveolumarzusu]

Selamlar sevgili ölüm severler...

Ben Yâm. O aptal, ölümü isteyen kız.

Son zamanlarda pek gönderi atamadım çünkü nefes alacak bile zamanım yoktu. Boğuluyordum dertler denizinde. Şimdi okyanuslara akma vakti... geri geliyorum diyelim.

Daha çok gönderi atmaya çalışacağım. Her gün büyüyen ve yetersiz bulduğum -yarım yamalak diye tanımladığım- bu yazıları daha da iyileştirmek istiyorum. Deniyorum diyelim. Daha sık aranızda olacağım ve belki ilerde bir yazar olacağım. Beni destekleyen ve takip eden herkese teşekkür ederim. Hala küçük bir hesabım fakat buraya gelmek bile benim için imkansız gibiydi...

İyi akşamlar ölüm severler, burası intihar bahçesi.

[maculategiraffe]

somehow found myself rereading orson scott card's ships of earth series, aka the book of mormon in space, and it's cute how osc attempts to add human interest and sympathy to the incredibly boring and generic stories of alma and mosiah and alma's son alma 2.0 by elaborating, unlike the actual book of mormon, on what constitutes righteousness. the book of mormon is like "alma told everybody to obey God and behave righteously, but his son alma 2.0 said he did not feel like obeying God or behaving righteously" and earthborn is like "akma told everybody to stop being vicious racists because God loves all races, but his son akma #2 was like, I love being a vicious racist and I hate God" and like. you just know joseph smith left the original so vague and generic so later he could be like "when alma said be righteous he meant marry as many sixteen year old orphans as you can. and when alma 2.0 said he didn't care what God wanted it was just like when my wife emma said she thought I was an asshole for secretly marrying our sixteen year old maidservant"

[spacehost]

“ it’s fucking rude to stare , pup . “

his eyes didn’t have to leave hiroshi’s kiss swollen lips to know that the underboss was staring at him in the dark , eyes sharp , as if they could throw daggers or conjure flames with just a spark . really , as much as he tries to keep his composure , the way @playsgods quietly snarls at him is really starting to piss him off . it is the one drawback of arriving at the shop early : having to coexist with the ravenous underboss practically growling in his direction as a warning , but akma never truly listened to warnings , now , did he ? unamused , he finally tears his eyes away from his lips to stare back into the stiff gaze of the other ; combating fire with ice. he rolls his eyes , cupping hiroshi’s face in his hands as if it were something delicate ; less like fine china and more like his favorite toy . “ what a fucking brat . “ he huffs under his breath , grounding himself , hands falling to either side of hiroshi’s neck and fingers dipping past the collar of his shirt for just a taste of untouched skin .

“ you keep raging like a ill - mannered little pup , then i might reconsider praising you for being such a cock hungry fucker for me . “ he practically sing - songs while using his thumbs to push hiroshi’s now shameful expression up to face him . akma dips his own head to level his own golden eyes with those of his momentary lover . “ hmm , where’s all that bite , pup ? all of that anger and pride ? “ akma rests hiroshi’s face in one of his hands and uses the other to gently smack life into the other’s olive skin , the last clap against hiroshi’s warm skin lingering as if to drain him of warmth . “ what’s wrong ? you carry yourself with so much , but how quickly you were to drop to your knees — and how does it feel ? all that talk of me not being worth your time ? being trash ? now i’m helping you up to your feet after sucking trash’s dick . “ he hums with a half smile. oh, hiroshi . you tried. you tried , you tried and you tried , didn’t you ? all of that pride , swallowed down with everything i could give you .

he can hear the opening of the shop entrance from behind the shame of their closet door and , quietly , he hushes hiroshi with only an index finger separating their lips . “ this is your secret to keep , not mine . i think i’d like to see you burst through this door looking like this , breathing like this — tell me , i’m curious to know — “ a devilish smirk spreads across his lips as he tilts that sweet face up once more . “ what does that trash taste like ? “ he presses his lips against hiroshi’s , snake eyes piercing swiping across the other’s bottom lip , hungry for entry .

[walaumalistulog]

When does grieving really end?

I lost my father eight years ago. Matagal-tagal na rin. He suffered from the complications brought about by heart failure. I was 16 that time, you know, ang edad kung saan mas malupit ang mundo sa'yo: kung tama ba ang career path na iti-take mo, kung ano ba talaga ang sexuality mo bilang tao, kung mago-open ka ba ng bank account para maging financially independent ka, or simpleng red pa rin ba ang favorite color mo.

I saw him suffered right before my eyes. Nakita ko kung paano niya i-exert ang lahat ng Joules ng efforts niya para lang makahinga. Buto't-balat. Halos nagtagpo na ang balat sa kalamnan, at hindi alam kung alam pa ang salitang 'mabuhay'.

Eventually, sumuko rin siya. Hindi kinaya, in short. Wala nang maibugang lakas para manatiling buhay. Though, tinapat na kami ng doktor niya na malabo pa sa sabaw ng sinaing na maka-survive siya. Lagi akong humihingi sa Panginoon ng isang himala, na paggising ko, isang araw, maging normal na ang lahat. Maging worthy of a biblical story ang kaginhawahan ni Papa na capable ang Panginoon ng imposibleng mga bagay.

Nung namatay ang Papa, never ako umiyak. Umiyak ako, pero walang nakakita so technically, hindi counted. Hindi maaaninag sa itsura ko na nagluluksa ako that time---hindi mugto ang mata ko sa kakaiyak, hindi ako mukhang puyat, at never kong ipinakita sa mga tao na nagluluksa ako.

Dumating ang araw na ihahatid na sa huling hantungan si Papa, okay lang. Eventually aware naman na ako na ganoon ang kahahantungan. Ililibing din siya. After ng libing, panay ang mensahe ng pakikiramay ng mga taong hindi ko naman kilala: "nakikiramay ako, hijo," "mabuting tao ang tatay mo," o 'di kaya ay "magpakatatag ka,"

Dumating 'yung puntong gabi na at kaming tatlo---ako, kapatid ko, at ang biyuda kong nanay---ang natira sa bahay. Hiwa-hiwalay kami ng mga kwartong tinutulugan. Tahimik ang paligid, ngunit hindi ang aming bahay. Yaon na yata ang pinakamalalakas na iyak namin sa tanang buhay namin. Ang tahanan ang siyang dapat maging kanlungan ng pagtahan namin, ay hindi naging akma sa kanyang ngalan.

Ang weird lang kapag namatayan ka: minsan okay ka, minsan hindi. Madalas iniiyakan ko ang pagkamatay ng Papa, minsan hindi, ngunit hindi siya nawawala sa isip ko araw-araw.

May mga pagkakataong akala mo, okay ka na sa mga nangyari, ngunit mapapaisip ka pa rin kung bakit kailangan mangyari ang mga nangyari.

Minsan kapag napag-uusapan ang yumao, wala nang lungkot, pero parang may kurot sa puso---na parang ang lapit ng isang tao sa'yo dahil nararamdaman mo ang pagmamahal nila, ngunit malayo dahil hindi ito tanaw ng dalawa mong mata.

Ngayon, walong taon na ang lumipas. Kapag napag-uusapan, parang wala na lang, pero parang laging may kulang. Nalulungkot dahil ang mga pangakong binitawan at mga pangarap na pinaghirapan, ay hindi na mapagsasaluhan.

Tanggap na ng puso mo, pinaglipasan na ng pagkakataon, ngunit hindi mawawala ang dusa.

Napagtanto ko na grieving will never really end; things will just become less sorrowful and a little easier to accept. Hindi talaga mawawala ang pagluluksa, talagang likas sa atin na pagtiisang maniwala na magiging mabuti ang lahat.

[kimhortons]

hi, kamusta pasko niyo?

kanina pa ako nakatunganga dito sa harap ng laptop at tumblr, di ako makasimula ng mga kwento ng ganap sa buhay ko recently. naipon at nagkasunod sunod na kaya yung mga unang ganap, parang hindi na akma sa mood ko kung ipopost ko pa. hehe. wala lang.

so kamusta? ako ito, maghapon lang sa kwarto. sobrang boring, pero tinatamad naman akong lumabas. alam niyo, sa dami ng nangyari recently, di ko na alam saan ako magsisimula.

pero so far, medyo okay naman ako ngayon. ang weird lang talaga na naman ng pakiramdam ko. siguro sepanx na naman sa Manila. hehe.

[solreix]

muntik nang mapamura si miwa nang biglang bumuhos ang ulang kanina ay ambon lang. napahinto na lang siya sa gitna ng daan, walang payong dahil wallet lang ang laman ng bulsa niya.

balak niya lang naman kasing bumili ng meryenda, at ngayon na nga lang siuang sinipag hindi magpa-deliver, minalas pa.

babalik pa ba 'ko?

kung tutuusin, mas malapit na sa kaniya ng tindahan kaysa sa bahay nila. wala siyang masisilungan dahil puro punong maninipis ang nilalakaran niyang sidewalk. walang masyadong tao, at puro mga sasakyang dumaraan ang nakikita niya.

napahilamos siya ng mukha. bahala na nga!

akma siyang tatakbo na papunta sa tindahan nang may humila ng kamay niya. "ano—" bago pa siya makaalma ay inikot siya ng taong humila sa kaniya, as if she was a princess.

"ali," she reacted when she recognized the chuckles.

"hello, pretty!" alisa greeted. katulad niya, basang-basa na rin ng ito ng ulan. her pastel green sleeveless dress was hugging her body, panigurado ay nilalamig ito. hindi katulad niya na kahit basa ay naka-jacket na makapal at jogging pants.

"what are you doing here? tara na, lalamigin ka niyan."

muli, tumawa lamang si alisa. "shhh!" ang isang kamay nito ay kinuha muli ang kamay ni miwa, at ang isa ay inilagay sa beywang niya. she was looking intently at miwa's eyes, making her heart flutter.

"you're so—" hindi na natuloy ang sasabihin ni miwa at napailing na lang. she went along with alisa's dance without any music as they both got drenched.

"since when was the last time we danced?" alisa mumbled, still smiling.

"last month. in your room kasi inistorbo ko pagreview mo," sagot niya na nakapagpasimangot kay alisa. "sagutin mo ako, how did you even know i'm here?"

alisa shrugged, and once again, twirled miwa like a princess. "i took grab lang kasi kanina, punta sana ako sa inyo, eh i saw my crush so nagpababa ako agad."

miwa rolled her eyes. "may crush ka?"

her girlfriend nodded, giddy.

"marunong bang magshabu nang patago 'yan?"

"oh definitely! blacklisted siya sa barangay." she giggled.

napapikit si miwa. "you're so cute, alam mo ba 'yon?" she couldn't help it so she pinched her cheeks. "come on, baby," she urged, and this time, siya na ang nag-ikot dito.

and for more minutes, umiikot, sumasayaw, at nagtatawanan lang sila sa daan. they knew they were already getting looks from passerbys pero wala silang paki.

miwa put her hands on alisa's waist, as alisa put hers on her neck. nakatitig sa mata ng isa't isa habang sumasayaw sa musika ng hangin, and they both couldn't ask for more.

no one's in their world, sila lang.

"lagnatin sana kayo." and there's her brother to ruin it of course.

[yasamsallik]

Bir nehrin, denize dökülmeden önce korkudan titrediği söylenir.

Geriye dönüp gittiği yola, dağların zirvelerine ve ormanlar, köyler arasından geçen uzun, dolambaçlı yola bakar.

Ve önünde uzanan koca bir okyanus görür ki, ona akmak, sonsuza dek yok olmaktan başka bir şey değilmiş gibi gelir.

Ama başka yol yok.

Nehir geri akamaz.

Kimse geri dönemez.

Varlığın geri dönüşü yoktur.

Nehir okyanusa akma riskini almak zorundadır.

Çünkü ancak o zaman korku yok olur, çünkü o zaman nehir bilir ki, denizde kaybolmaz, okyanus olur.

Halil Cibran

[ichorofthelastlament]

Career Options for MC

Since MC was never expected to be the heir of light, they were given the training for a different career path. These are most likely flavor, but we'll see.

Scribe

While all the children of the House of Azira are brought up to be literate, but a scribe mc has gone above and beyond. Perhaps this kind if mc is a historian working in the royal archives, a astronomer working along side clergymen of various temples, or an architect working on the many upcoming monumental projects of the city.

Warrior

A warrior mc has two main paths as the city of Akma is not currently at war, a guard or a hunter. As a guard perhaps they patrol the castle or personally protect important members of Madame Azira's House (Peri). A hunter mc would be trained in dealing with the vae.

Bronze Smith

An mc that is trained in bronze smiting may make weapons and armor or they may take a more artistic approach and make decorative items.

Artisan

There is a long list or artistic endeavors this kind of mc could have taken up professionally. Perhaps they are a sculptor, a fresco painter, a musician, or work with pottery.

[klebziella]

Binabagabag ako ng konsensya ko hanggang ngayon. First surgery ko as surgeon failed pa, buhay yung patient - sobrang healthy. Yung role as surgeon kasi hindi akma. Buong procedure galit yung prof ko sa akin. For me, nag-aral naman ako pero yung confident ko ay negative. Nakakainis kasi nag panic ako. Nawala yung presence of mind ko. Natatakot ako baka bumagsak ako dahil sa isang surgery. Ayoko mag retake kasi magastos ang laboratory. Supportive naman tatay ko pero nahihiya pa rin ako. Sinabihan ako na kausapin yung prof ko na terror. Sabi naman ng mentor ko wala naman masama sa pagtatanong. Ang problema ay may pagka ewan sumagot yung prof ko. Common na sinasabi niya ay "anong gagawin ko?" hindi ko na mabilang kung ilang student ang sinabihan niya ng ganyan. Ilang taon na ako sa college dapat masanay na ako sa rejection pero ang sakit parin kapag mangyayari siya. Anyways, nagiipon pa rin ako ng lakas ng loob at prayers para makapag consult sa prof ko kung may special projects siya para bumawi ako sa grade ko.

Sana two weeks from now nakausap ko na siya para hindi ko siya iniisip every night. Literal na nightmare kasi.