#h eAVY BREATHING

[igirisuhito]

Title: Afflicted Relationship(s): Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito Rating: Mature Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / ? Chapter Summary: Monokuma has a fresh new motive! Monomi has been a bit too comfortable lately, so why not let the chains go and let the biggest secret they're trying to suppress manifest within the simulation under the guise of illness? Trigger Warnings: Vomiting, Illness, Personality issues Author’s Note: This fic is an AU of sdr2 chapter 3. Rather slow to update. Can’t tell you how long it will run for but if you like to keep track, I recommend subscribing on Ao3.

[Ao3 Link]

┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈

"Hghh-GAH!"

My body shot up involuntarily, kicking me from my sleep. My breathing was laboured and sweat dripped down my forehead, was that a nightmare? As quickly as it had come, the nightmare had completely dissolved, feeling out of reach in the depths of my mind yet leaving a bad taste in my mouth

My body was hot, unusually so. It's so hot here on tropical Jabberwock Island but I was finally starting to get used to it. This heat was more...feverish. Have I come down with something? Can I even get sick here? Surely not.

…Can viruses travel across water?

Pocketing the thought in my mind to ask Tsumiki later, I buttoned my shirt and lifted myself from the bed. My body was heavy, exhausted, like I hadn’t rested in years. Vertigo made the floor deceptively uneven beneath my feet.

Oh god. Something is wrong.

I picked up my jeans from the floor and pulled them on, stumbling slightly as I tried to balance and get my legs in the right holes. I wrapped my tie around my collar and knotted it loosely before quickly slipping my sneakers on, not even bothering to redo the laces. I really should have had a shower with how sticky with sweat my skin was, but I really had to get to breakfast.

A weird thought floated through the back of my mind, it was almost as if I was…underdressed? This is what I wear every day…?

I stepped towards the door slowly. My heart was pounding in my ears, like I'd been running a marathon. Ohhh something was definitely off.

I turned the knob and stepped outside into the daylight. Crap the sun was bright. With slow steps, I made my way from the cabins to the restaurant where everybody usually met up.

My fingers glided along the banister as I stepped up the wooden stairs. This mundane task felt so much more difficult today. Upon making it upstairs and entering through the diner’s side entrance, I was confronted by the sound of loud sobs.

I assumed it was Saionji or Tsumiki, but the sobs didn't quite match those two. They were louder, less whiny. The sight that appeared before me was Owari leaning into Tsumiki's chest, bawling her eyes out and staining the nurse's white apron. It was such an unusual scene, I found myself glancing multiple times to see if it was actually happening.

"Ah! H-hinata! I-i-is there any ch-chance you could please give- give me a hand here?" The Ultimate Nurse stuttered out, clearly distressed and overwhelmed.

I attempted to step forward to help her with Owari, but my body was frozen, stuck in place.

Huh?

"My assistance won't make any difference to her condition."

A deep, unfamiliar voice spoke. I snapped my head around the room attempting to find its owner, but there was only there was only the three of us here.

Was that…? No, surely not. I don't talk in such a pretentious way.

"H-hinata…"

I stared at her with what I assumed was panic. Tsumiki flinched and was now clinging to Owari tighter than Owari had been clinging to her.

"Hey, what the fuck is going on here?" A familiar gruff voice broke the tension.

Kuzuryuu emerged from the stairs and looked towards the two girls clinging to each other desperately. He then glanced to me, expectant of an answer.

"At first glance it would seem the stress of Nidai's loss has finally tipped Owari over the edge and into despair, but it's rather something much more sinister."

There that voice was again! I could feel my lips moving and the words coming out, but there was absolutely no thought of these words going through my mind! The Ultimate Gangster appeared shocked as well.

"Wait what the fuck is wrong with you? You sound like fucking Komaeda."

"Huh? Who sounds like me?"

As if on queue, Komaeda arrived to the scene with Nanami in tow. The girl barely looked up from her device before sitting down at a table.

"Oi, say to Komaeda what you said to me!" Kuzuryuu barked at me.

Oh god this is going downhill so fast.

"I see no reason to repeat myself." Desperately seeking her help, advice, anything, I approached the dining table and sat myself next to the gamer girl.

Nanami paused her game to look at me with a wide eyed expression. "Hinata…" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Amazing! You've finally developed a personality fit for an Ultimate such as yourself!" Komaeda clasped his hands together excitedly. "What brought this on?"

It seemed whatever had possessed me and myself both agreed to ignore the Luckster.

Soon Saionji and Mioda were entering the room, Saionji giggling nefariously behind her small little hand.

"Hey guys look! Ibuki will do whatever I tell her to today!" Saionji yelled across the dining hall enthusiastically. "Ibuki! Go jump on Tsumiki!"

The colourful girl made a salute "Right away, Hiyoko-chan!" and threw herself at the Ultimate Nurse, who was still cradling Owari. Tsumiki screamed as she hit the floor with both Owari and Mioda on top of her.

"My my what's going on?" Sonia and Tanaka emerged from the stairs with a dejected looking Souda trailing behind.

"A new motive!"

A shrill voice shrieked excitedly. Suddenly, a familiar monochromatic bear popped up at the end of the dining table. Man, way too much is happening too fast, especially when I'm feeling like this.

"Motive?" Komaeda was the first to speak up, sounding almost excited.

"That's riiiight! The motive for the next murder! I've decided to inflict some of you with a bad boy I like to call 'Despair Disease!" Monokuma grinned a toothy smile as he addressed everyone in the room.

"I'm sure you've all gotten a good idea of what's happening by now, but I'll give you a nice little rundown regardless, just so you brainless bastards can understand." Monokuma pointed a furry paw at Owari.

"Akane Owari has Coward Disease."

Then to Mioda. "Ibuki Mioda has Gullible Disease."

Then to me. "Hajime Hinata has Apathy Disease."

Huh…me?

I was one of the motives…?

The words left my mouth too quickly once again. "There's no cure then, unless a murder occurs?"

The bear nodded. "That's right my hollow friend! Unless you take advantage of your 'no strings attached' state and kill somebody, you could be stuck like this forever!"

The room got suddenly hotter, forcing me to loosen my tie a bit so I could breathe. My eyes were becoming unfocused and everything was drifting away. The only sounds I could hear were Monokuma's rambles, Owari screaming about her fear of death, and the blood rushing in my ears.

Monokuma had made us the perfect candidates for a killing.

With this thought the world began to spin, even though I was still seated.

"Hinata-san…are you okay?" Chiaki's soft voice was distant as my head became unbearably heavy and the world slipped through my fingers. The last thing I felt was my forehead hitting the wooden dining table.

-

I awoke to the sensation of my muscles being stretched. Specifically, the ones in my arms.

"...ant…d...t...an…….'s t-...eavy…."

"urel….n…..t-m-t….ike…..you -an…ft another person, Souda!"

"I can't! It's not my fault he's so-"

"Ah! Hinata-kun!"

My eyes slowly fluttered open and I groaned. My head ached and there was sweat coating my body from head to toe. I could feel the hard floor on my back, pressing my shirt to stick damply to my skin.

A mess of fluffy white hair and sunken grey eyes was leaning into my gaze. The very sight of Komaeda made me want to close my eyes again.

The two boys were stood at either end of me, Souda still holding my arms up. His face was twisted into an uncomfortable look.

"You pick up heavy machinery almost daily, Souda. You're only feigning this weakness so that you don't have to carry me, right?" I mumbled, letting out an exasperated sigh and glancing back at the pink haired male.

Souda let go of my arms with a shocked expression, allowing them to fall to my side with a thud. "W-what?! I wouldn't do something like that to my soul-friend!"

I examined his expression closely, Souda wore a nervous smile. "How boring. It's not of any issue, I can walk by myself."

I set my palms down on the floor beside me and sat up. Komaeda reached out and uttered a "Wait" when suddenly I was overcome with an aching pain in my head. A small hiss escaped my lips and I faltered.

"It's so incredibly brave of you to try to move yourself, Hinata-kun! However, Tsumiki-san said you shouldn't try to in your state.” Komaeda spoke, concern apparent in his voice. “Souda and I planned to take you to the hospital, unless you don’t want talentless scum like me carrying you!”

“I don’t. I can take care of myself.” I had another go at lifting myself off the floor. My knees stuttered for a moment, but I managed to stand. My head was still pounding, but it was so much more tolerable than allowing myself to be carried.

Komaeda’s expression morphed into one of hurt, but his eyes gleamed with a whole different emotion; intrigue. “Hinata-kun…”

“Seriously Hinata! You could hurt yourself!” Souda objected, placing a hand on my shoulder.

I swatted his hand away and began to walk towards the stairs of the hotel. “Why are you two looking at me like that? You should have expected this.”

Komaeda and Souda stayed silent as I made my slow descent down the stairs. If my hearing was a little bit worse, I probably wouldn’t have heard the “stubborn bastard” Souda eventually muttered out.

I gripped the handrail tightly once I stepped off the last step, now finding myself in the games room. Son of a bitch- my head hurts so badly. It was almost as if somebody was shoving an ice pick through my brain. My body was still glazed with sweat and my eyes bleary. Whatever Monokuma had inflicted us with, it was pretty unbearable.

I know I’ve always been a prideful person, but even in this situation I should be completely fine with leaving my health in the hands of Tsumiki. Being the Ultimate Nurse, she would definitely be able to relieve my symptoms somewhat. But the very thought of seeking help seemed anything but of interest.

What is wrong with me? I thought Monokuma said I had apathy disease, not ‘huge prick’ disease. I felt like a completely different person. The very thought made my throat dry up.

On another note, what does apathy mean again? It means like...not caring, right? So I surely couldn’t be concerned about what Tsumiki thinks of me...I don’t get it. Something just feels incredibly wrong about putting myself in her, or anyone's, hands.

Shoving those thoughts down, I decided to make my way to the third island. The sun made my fever all the more excruciating and I found myself feeling faint, but I powered on anyway.

I crossed the bridge to the centre island, then took the bridge to the third island. I've never been so incredibly grateful for that red and white building to not be on the other side of the island.

I pushed open the door of the hospital building, finding myself in a small reception room. It was painted a dull blue-green colour, and bore a large white reception desk. There was also a small assembly of chairs, forming what I presumed is a waiting area. Kuzuryuu was lounged in one of these chairs in a seemingly uncomfortable position.

The Gangster jumped up the second he saw me, as it he had been awaiting my arrival. “Dude, did you fucking walk here? Did Komaeda and Souda ditch you?!” “Yes, and no. I left them at the hotel.” I explained, making eye contact with the shorter boy.

“Why the fuck would you do that? You’re sick as a dog! You passed out at breakfast, remember?!”

“I recall.”

“Then why’d you-”

“I don’t need to explain my actions to you.”

Kuzuryuu’s face twisted in a scowl, before he sighed and dropped all emotion from his face. “Man I don’t get this shit. Just go talk to Tsumiki okay? She’s in the first room treating Owari’s fever.”

I nodded and made my way into the hallway past the desk. There were doors on the left, labelled with numbers, patient rooms. On the right were windowed rooms with various…Monokuma displays?

Something about this place made my headache even worse.

I swallowed down the feeling and opened the door to the firsr room, stepping inside and quietly closing the door behind me. The room was filled with the loud sound of Owari sobbing her heart out. At this point, her voice was beginning to break, sounding hoarse and desperate. Tsumiki whirled around to face me, a wet rag in hand.

“H-Hinata! I-I-I’m glad you’re- you’re here. If y-you’d like, um, y-you can go rest in the second room. I’ll be- um, w-with you in a sec!” She stammered out, flashing a forced smile.

“I’ll stay there, as I assume the others will see me as a contagion risk, but I don’t wish for you to treat me.” I spoke sternly.

Tsumiki looked shocked, and then tears began to drip from her eyes. “I-I-I’m s-sorry! I-I didn’t know that- that I-I was in-in-inadequate in my n-nursing!”

I left the room before I had to listen to her cry any further, it was boring to listen to somebody act to so pathetically. As I stepped back out into the hallway, a rush of dizziness and nausea overcame me. I staggered slightly and leant an arm on the nearest wall, squeezing my eyes shut tight and trying to still the room around me.

Jesus Christ I feel like crap.

Light footsteps approached in my direction. I couldn't see who it was, but the sound of metal chain clinking against itself hinted as to who the footsteps' owner might be.

Komaeda's voice sounded cheerful. “Hinata-kun! Kuzuryuu-san told me you made it here okay! Ah, you look awfully-”

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Oh, I understand. It’s only natural for you to have that reaction upon running into somebody like me.” Komaeda laughed at his own self-deprecation.

“No, Komae-” I gagged on my words and quickly pressed a hand over my mouth.

Komaeda’s eyes went wide, followed by a soft “oh”. The boy then grabbed my wrist, pulling me into the second patient’s room. The room had a small ensuite bathroom, much alike most hospitals. I didn’t bother looking around too much, instead opting to make my way into the bathroom as quickly as possible. I spied the toilet and removed the hand from my mouth, opting to lean it against the cistern and sinking to my knees.

I heaved into the toilet, tears pricking at the corner of my eyes as my throat burned and my head screamed. This feeling was utterly...despairing.

After what felt like hours, my stomach had finally begun to calm down. I wiped my mouth with a groan and laid my face on the cool tiles of the floor.

“That’s kind of unhygienic, you know.” A breathy voice spoke from the doorway.

“It doesn’t matter.” I mumbled.

I heard Komaeda’s footsteps come closer, followed by a cool hand being pressed to my forehead. A quiet sigh escaped my mouth in relief.

“You’re incredibly hot, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda paused for longer than necessary, “Hang on, I’ll go get Tsumiki.”

He removed his hand from my forehead and I groaned out in annoyance. “Nooo.”

“Huh? Why don’t you want me to go get Tsumiki.”

“I don’t want to be treated.”

“Wh- why?”

“I want to see what happens.”

Komaeda laughed a wheezy little laugh. "Hinata-kun, normally I'd agree to anything you say, but an Ultimate like yourself shouldn't force yourself to go through something like this."

“Your opinion on the matter isn’t important, Komaeda. I’m just telling you not to get Tsumiki.” I stated firmly. “Besides, knowing the people here, it won’t be long before a murder occurs and I'm free from this.”

Komaeda tilted his head, looking somewhat intrigued by my statement. He had hardly reacted to my harsh words. “Not that I disagree, but why do you think that will be the case?”

I shrugged slightly and pushed myself up from the floor, now sitting up. The room was still spinning dangerously around me. “You’re all psychotic. That’s all.”

This statement seemed to tickle Komaeda, as he laughed and drew a big grin on his face. “It’s surprising how much more honest you are at the moment. Has your new apathetic outlook made you unbothered with hurting people’s feelings?”

I sighed. “You can sit here and philosophise all you like about the despair disease and its impacts. I’m going to go get a drink to calm this migraine."

I pulled myself up, slowly rising to my feet when a shocking pain pulsed through my head again.

"Ghuh-!"

My legs went weak and Komaeda reached out, grabbing hold of my torso to keep me from crashing to the floor below.

"You probably shouldn't try to do that." He muttered, gripping my waist tightly.

"No shit. Let go." I hissed, reaching out and latching on to Komaeda's shoulders.

The boy laughed heartily, making no attempt to remove his hands. "You tell me to let go whilst using my body to prop yourself up? You're awfully strange Hinata-kun."

Komaeda moved to my side and, removing one of his arms from my waist and now placing his hand over mine. "Please put your arm around my shoulder, we should just get you to your bed."

I sighed loudly in defeat and placed my arm around Komaeda's shoulder. The boy nodded and slowly started to move forward.

"I really don't need your help for this Komaeda."

"I know. Thankyou for allowing me to assist you, even if garbage like myself isn't worthy to."

I didn't bother to entertain Komaeda with a response. Instead I leaned more of my body weight onto the boy and groaned.

"It's alright, Hinata-kun, you're doing an amazing job." Komaeda breathed in a hushed tone.

The sound of his voice so close to me made me shiver, but it provided a momentary distraction from the pain.

My knees bumped into something hard and I looked up, realising we had made it across the room. Komaeda slipped his hand out from my waist and helped me lower myself to sit on the mattress.

"God I'm so hot." I murmured.

Komaeda pressed a cool hand to my cheek, making me sigh in relief. Using his right hand, he pressed his fingers into the knot of my tie, pulling it further undone from my neck.

"You should probably change into a hospital gown, it would at least be much cooler than wearing jeans." Komaeda spoke in a low voice.

He must be trying to help my migraine by being quiet. How…considerate of him?

"I...you're right." I sighed, bringing my fingers to undo the top button of my shirt.

Komaeda backed off, removing his hand from my face quickly. "Oh, Hinata-kun! Should I leave?"

I undid the rest of my buttons and shrugged off my shirt and tie. "Do what you want."

The boy nodded quickly, his cheeks were slightly flushed. "I-I'm going to get you a gown." And with that, he dashed out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

Weirdo.

I undid my belt and lifted my hips from the bed, carefully wiggling myself out of my jeans. They were awfully tight on my body, probably from the sweat of the fever.

I discarded my jeans and laid back on the bed with a groan. I probably shouldn't lie down yet, but I'm so goddamn sore and tired. The bed was hard and uncomfortable, but it was so nice to be off my feet for even a moment.

The door opened again and in stepped Komaeda, holding a folded up gown in his hands. "Ah, Hinata-kun, are you okay?"

"No." I mumbled, rolling over so I was now face-down in the pillow.

"I'm sorry, can I get you anything?" Komaeda spoke softly as a weight sat on the edge of the bed, most likely him.

"Water."

"Can do." The weight disappeared once again. "I left your gown on the bed if you want to change."

"Mhm." I mustered the strength to push myself up before scanning my eyes around the room. Komaeda was gone once again, I never heard the door click when he left, how strange.

I picked up the gown from the edge of the mattress. It was incredibly lightweight, but the linen was soft. I slipped my arms into the sleeves and pulled it up onto my shoulders. I then tied it around the waist loosely and sat back down on the bed.

Komaeda returned a few moments later with a tray holding a jug of water and a cup. He set the tray down on the bedside table and began to pour a cup of water.

"Are you feeling any better, Hinata-kun?" He quizzed, not taking his eyes away from what he was doing.

"I'm less hot." I mumbled.

"That's good." The boy turned to me, holding a plastic cup of water in his outstretched hand. I took it carefully with two hands, raising it to my lips and sipping.

The cool water felt like heaven on my burning throat. I squeezed my eyes closed tight and drank the whole cup, finishing with a pleased sigh.

"Ah, you probably shouldn't drink too fast, you don't want to make yourself sick again." Komaeda smiled and took the cup from my hands.

"That would be exciting though, wouldn't it? To be desperately seeking a release from pain only for it to make things worse? Actually, no, that's so incredibly predictable…" I babbled out, somewhat dazed and sleepy now that the ache in my throat was relieved.

"Haha, you're starting to sound a bit like me. How scary." Komaeda chuckled to himself, pouring another cup of water.

I slowly lowered my body back onto the bed, resting my head against the pillow. "Mmnn...it would be most unfortunate to have a mindset as boring as yours."

Komaeda gave a sad smile and placed the plastic cup onto the tray. "I think I'll go. I need to talk to Kuzuryuu-san about what everybody else is doing. Please call for Tsumiki-san if you need anything."

"Mmm."

The last thing I heard was the sound of Komaeda muttering to himself and the click of the door behind him. Fatigue took hold and I found myself falling into a deep sleep.

#Komahina #Kamukoma #Kamukura Izuru #Hinata Hajime #Komaeda Nagito #Ficgiri

[diabolicaltendencies]

what is your primary feeling in longing?  [ Sam ]

Result: Heavy

In longing, you feel heavy. Your desire feels like a burden you've been carrying for too long. Your heart is a large weight in your chest, so heavy it brings down your shoulders and puts a bend in your back. You feel like if you were thrown into water, the weight of it would drag you straight to the bottom. It's as if no matter what you do, you just can't shake it or let it go. When you let yourself feel it, it's almost suffocating, you're drowning in desire, quietly. You unfocus your eyes and breathe out until the stream of air thins, a pang in your chest follows. The next breath is a sigh. You've been so patient, you feel you deserve *something*. Your yearning pulls and pulls at you but you've tried everything, nothing left to do but wait. Once you've accepted this, you push the thoughts away, but the weight is still there. Sometimes you convince yourself you don't even want what you desire anymore, you just want the weight lifted. But something says don't give up. You're too deep in love. Be strong my dear, stay determined.

TAGGED BY: @theasteriae

TAGGING: Anyone who would like to!

#prescott; dash game #my poor boy

[a-gardenwaited]

Heavy breaths come out like hisses. Harsh and whistling as the expelled air was forced through jagged teeth. Her glowing pink eye staring and unblinking, unfocused and yet...it didn’t seem to relent in its constant gaze upon the other. A silent regard of them...or an unsettling patience for an opening to present itself to her?

#❥ ~ free play || open rp #❥ ~ friendship won't come easy || mutuals only #❥ ~ i’m out of my head; of my heart and my mind || verse 9 #{(have this creepy gal)} #{(she doing a hard stare)}

[edgecfdawn]

*𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑶𝑲𝒀 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑨𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑺 !

bloodied knuckles ･ tear stained cheeks ･ rust  ･ a busted lip ･ claws ･ fangs ･ a bloody nose ･ chattering teeth  ･ a dark space underneath the bed ･ scratching noises on a wall ･ creaking metal ･ fog ･ dancing under moonlight ･ blood dripping lips ･ heavy breathing in the dark ･ a feeling of unexplained dread ･ a figure in a dark corner ･   dirty peeling wallpaper ･ a bloody handprint on the wall ･ sobbing in the dark ･  bite marks on the skin ･ eerie whispers ･ a hood covering a stranger’s eyes ･ the growl of a hidden animal ･  the sound of a blade being sharpened ･ a deep, dark forest ･ walking on the streets alone at night ･  a cobweb-filled, abandoned building  ･ eyes darting in paranoia ･ a heavy beating pulse ･ the feeling of being trapped ･ struggling to get out a scream ･ boards covering broken windows ･ a quiet graveyard ･ a gas station in the middle of nowhere ･ a road that never ends ･ heavy fog rolling in ･ the scent of blood in the air ･ eerie old photographs  ･ walking along train tracks at night ･ a chill going up the spine  ･  gathering crows ･ a dusty, dimly lit study ･ mist over a deserted cobblestone street ･ ghost towns ･shadows around a campfire ･ the sound of chanting ･church bells tolling ･ an orange harvest moon  ･  a broken down carnival  ･ a dirty stuffed animal abandoned ･ wiping bloody hands on fabric ･ nightmares ･ waking up in a panic ･ a power outage ･ heavy lightning storms ･ a secret trap door ･ the feeling of being watched ･ fear from trauma ･  a Ouija board set out on a table  ･  an eerie doll  ･ a scream of anguish & pain ･ withered plants ･ a room that’s been forgotten & gathered dust ･ owl eyes in the dark ･  curled, dead tree branches ･ a ritual altar ･ flickering candles ･ a lantern held up in the dark ･ fear of being followed ･ creaking floorboards ･repressed, horrible memories ･ clenched teeth ･ soft, echoing piano keys･  an old book covered in dust ･ many pairs of glaring eyes ･ stumbling in pitch black darkness ･ being stranded in the middle of nowhere ･ tarot cards on a table  ･ a trail of blood.

tagged by :   stolen from @timecall ! tagging :  steal! 

#☀️ — aesthetics

[gciltyascharged]

      Stick stoked the flames, eternally burning before him as knees were given a warm gesture pulled up to his chest and wrapped around with the free arm ; he missed home, he missed Willy, he missed the banter, he missed -- well, he just missed them all! Even the negative aspects of his life there were more preferable to the Hell he’d been thrust into: Louis’s annoying attempts to lift the mood with music, Violet’s godforsaken pushiness, Tenn’s idealization, Aasim’s constant nagging about doing things right, Willy’s abhorrent morning breath, Ruby’s overbearing sense of manners, even Clem and AJ he missed -- they’d grown on him like parasites.

      Most of all, he missed the song Minnie, Violet, and Louis would play for them.

      Right now, he could use it -- he could really, really use it... Grip on stick tightened, burning agony of the heat not recognized as he softly began to hum it -- Don’t be Afraid.

      It’s been on the tip of his mind for a while here, but he’d not been able to subject himself to even sprouting it off, but, with only the eyes of those deranged, thoughtless killers in the background, he felt nothing but peace. There weren’t any survivors back yet ; he could let himself relax like he often would atop the bell tower. It’s not like they’d really appreciate someone singing about HOPE in this situation ; it might come across preachy, so he’d let himself fall into the tunes in the loneliness that came with no one nearby.

      ❝ ...sh away the t ea r s... ❞ -- tap, tap, tap -- ❝ ...way heavy h..rt... ❞ -- stick released, he watched it vanish into the flames -- gone. ❝ ...night...will be over...soon... ❞ Not the full song, nor the end of it, but he’d take it in this moment, letting his gaze drift up toward the sight of a survivor having appeared into the realm once more. Mitch swallowed dryly, letting his emerald gaze flicker back down toward the corresponding flames. Chin fell to knees as he prayed they’d not come in while he’d busied himself in the embarrassing gesture of self-calming methods -- they’d probably just tell him to grow up and man up for it ; after all, they’d been here longer than him, so this must be routine -- must be something they’d fallen used to. 

      ❝ Hey. ❞ 

#IC. থৣ ► ι wαѕ вorɴ тo мαĸe мιѕтαĸeѕ; ɴoт тo ғαĸe perғecтιoɴ. #OPEN. থৣ ► ѕтrαιɢнт ιɴтo α ғιery eхploѕιoɴ oғ deαтн. #verѕe: AU | DBD .✵. ғαce тнe eɴтιтy αɴd wαlĸ вαcĸwαrdѕ ιɴтo нell! #// when you just want to write a boy comforting himself far away from home

[tenyxshx-a]

Bold the muse’s aesthetic (Spooky Edition)

Repost and bold all of the themes that apply to your muse’s aesthetic or mood as a character.

Bloodied knuckles | Tear stained cheeks | Rust | A busted lip | Claws | Fangs | A bloody nose | Chattering teeth | A dark space underneath the bed | Scratching noises on a wall | Creaking metal | Fog | Dancing under moonlight | Blood dripping lips | Heavy breathing in the dark | A feeling of unexplained dread | A figure in a dark corner |  Dirty peeling wallpaper | A bloody handprint on the wall | Sobbing in the dark | Bite marks on the skin | Eerie whispers | A hood covering a stranger’s eyes | The growl of a hidden animal | The sound of a blade being sharpened | A deep, dark forest | Walking on the streets alone at night | A cobweb-filled, abandoned building | Eyes darting in paranoia | A heavy beating pulse | The feeling of being trapped | Struggling to get out a scream | Boards covering broken windows | A quiet graveyard | A gas station in the middle of nowhere | A road that never ends | Heavy fog rolling in | The scent of blood in the air | Eerie old photographs | Walking along traintracks at night | A chill going up the spine | Gathering crows | A dusty, dimly lit study | Mist over a deserted cobblestone street | Ghost towns | Shadows around a campfire | The sound of chanting | Church bells tolling | An orange harvest moon | A broken down carnival | A dirty stuffed animal abandoned | Wiping bloody hands on fabric | Nightmares | Waking up in a panic | A power outage | Heavy lightning storms | A secret trap door | The feeling of being watched | Fear from trauma | A Ouija board set out on a table | An eerie doll | A scream of anguish and pain | Withered plants | A room that’s been forgotten and gathered dust  | Owl eyes in the dark | Curled, dead tree branches | A ritual altar | Flickering candles | A lantern held up in the dark | Fear of being followed | Creaking floorboards | Repressed, horrible memories | Clenched teeth |Soft, echoing piano keys | An old book covered in dust | Many pairs of glaring eyes | Stumbling in pitch black darkness | Being stranded in the middle of nowhere | Tarot cards on a table | A trail of blood

➸ Tagger: @goldenscar​, 

#(thankies for tagging me!!!! im late tho as always lmaooo) #(this was fun to do) #(i had to think hard tho at some of these iosdfjoidsjfoisdjsd) #dash games;; #➸ behind the glasses (hc.) #➸ out of time (q.)

[gold-gguk]

《 Talk To Me 》

summary ↠ Adulting has never been fun--especially during the hours of nine-to-five when it’s been said the inescapable feelings of stress and frustration reign. Luckily, on this particular day of shitty circumstances and discourteous bosses, your best friend Jin is there is let you vent and cheer you up...and maybe a little more. 

genre ↠ *sighs* honestly, it’s a little bit of everything (fluff, angst, smut) member ↠ kim seokjin warnings ↠ heavy petting, fondling word count ↠ 3.9k

moodboard by @deba-kookie) || for @loveisah-maze. Thanks for the request!

~

Jin is startled out of the alluring realm of literature clutched within the station of his graceful digits when the front door slams shut with an aggressive thud. From his place on the couch, he turns to see you angrily kicking your shoes off at the entrance, your brow drawn crudely as your lips move with light mumblings to yourself. He watches with puzzlement as you toss your bag away negligently, not even batting an eye when it crashes against the wall, your phone, along with other random belongings, tumbling out into a pile. The closer you get, the easier it is for him to hear you grumbling under your breath, incoherent bashings stemming from a place of obvious frustration that’s written all over your contorted face. 

You pass by the couch with heavy steps, Jin noticing your fists clenched into little, tense balls at your side. Without even glancing in Jin’s direction, you pound into the vast kitchen, almost ripping the door of the fridge off its hinges as you search for a bottle of water to at least cure the effects of the annoying humidity latching onto you from the walk here. 

Tearing the cap off of the beverage and kicking the fridge shut behind you, you guzzle the clear liquid down with fervency, pouring just a fraction of your irritation into the action. You crush the bottle between the clench of your fingers, throwing it haphazardly into the trash can before yanking the too-tight knot of your updo out of the hair-tie allowing your locks to cascade freely around your shoulders, a hand flying up to massage out the soreness of your scalp. Still mumbling almost inaudibly to yourself, you fling the small hair-tie away as if it’s going to break into a million satisfying pieces against the counter, disappointment prodding you when it remains just an unhelpful stress relief landing softly on the marble surface.

Steel footed steps carry you from the kitchen, across the carpet, and towards where Jin is still perched, book in hand, staring wide eyed at the girl who has just barged into the dorm unannounced with the wake of hell. He jolts as you flop your weight onto the cushion of the couch next to him, your arms crossing tensely over your torso as you fix your eyes against the stagnant black of the TV hanging on the wall. From this close, Jin can make out the taught motion of your jaw reacting to the irked bite of your teeth.

Jin waits in the muffled silence for a moment, expecting you to eventually speak, but when he realizes you aren’t even fully aware of his presence next to you, he clears his throat. “So...bad day?”

It’s then that you explode. “OH MY GOD, JIN. Who does my boss even think she is? I mean, I file one thing in the wrong place, and she flies off the wall, having the audacity to accuse me of being incompetent, like she knows me or something! What? I’m not allowed to not be perfect? Everyone knows she spends more time in her office on Pintrest than doing her actual job, Jesus.”

Despite your intense eruption, Jin’s face softens, a relieved smile sighing into his lips. It usually takes ages to get you to talk about what’s bothering you, so any sort of explanation this early in the conversation is a solace to him. “Are you going to be okay?”

You huff. “I’m perfectly fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” He can’t hold the amused grin vying for a spot on his lips. “Because it looks like you’re feeling a little violent.”

“I am not feeling violent,” you scoff in defense. “I’m feeling creative with weapons.”

Jin laughs brightly, the twinkling and high-pitched sound sending out a little warmth into the frigid atmosphere surrounding you. “You’re dangerous when you get creative,” he chuckles, holding his hands up. 

“Yeah, let’s hope my boss locks her doors at night. I won’t be held responsible if she happens to miss work tomorrow.” Despite Jin’s gentle giggle, the familiar sound threatening to sedate you, you remain steadfast in your slump, sinking down into the couch as your head falls backwards and your eyes close, chest heaving with a sigh. 

“I’m sure things will blow over by tomorrow,” Jin encourages, placing a gentle hand on the curve of your shoulder, his eyes trailing the momentary placidity of your features as your initial angry energy begins to tire. “Private spats like that are usually forgotten by then.”

Jin suddenly sees your eyes squeeze even tighter in closing, the crease of your lids disappearing entirely under the scrunch of your brows. His eyes widen as your face morphs, the previously frustrated and stony nature of it melting into a weary and worn out shape, the red circles under your eyes becoming more prominent against the shadowed lighting of the room. 

“Jin...” you speak, your voice miles calmer but coated in a frail rasp, the aggression of a moment ago fading out to be replaced by a seeping disquiet. Jin’s smile vanishes, a frazzled worry taking it’s place as he recognizes your sudden shift, uncertain of its origin but disrelishing the way its making you look so upset. 

The book now forgotten on the coffee table, he situates his body so he’s facing you, one leg pulled up on the couch in front of him, his arm rounding the back of the sofa where you’re seated. “Y/N, what? What’s wrong?”

His entirety stills as you suddenly shift next to him, your body lolling sideways as your forehead comes to a soft rest in the slope between his neck and shoulder. You take a selfish moment’s revel in the smooth warmth of his skin, seeking out the comfort of his easy presence: the reason you raced here after the scene at work instead of going to wallow in your own home. Jin’s arm subconsciously wraps around the hill of your shoulders, long fingers pressing gingerly against your fabric clad skin in reassurance. 

“Jin,” you repeat in the same broken tone, your throat clenching with an undesired sting as your memory begins to replay the scene. Frustration mixes with embarrassment at your inability to stop your eyes from prickling uncomfortably just after you had gotten yourself under control. You’d resolved to anger instead of this just before bursting through the front door. You swallow hard to tame the tension building there, wishing to be filled with aggression again instead of being unwillingly reduced to this sorry state by your bossy emotions. 

“Y/N, it’s me,” Jin coaxes, worry only being watered by your silence. “You can talk to me.”

The baby-like strokes his fingers, brushing away the strands of fallen hair curtaining the small bit of your exposed and red face, pry away the last bit of your pride. “She did it in front of the whole office,” you admit shakily, the restrained tears dripping in the tone of your voice. “Everyone was watching me and listening to her say those cruel things. It was humiliating.”

Understanding suddenly befalls Jin’s face, your blue confession tugging at his heart. He knows that your distress is only made worse by the fact that you just started this new job, troubled even more with the notion that your coworkers might just believe the things being said about you before you could imprint on them yourself. 

“I know it’s not that big of a deal, but I just--” Your downplay is cut off by a short choke caught in your pained throat, damp eyes squeezing shut against the fabric of Jin’s shirt, willing yourself to pull it together. 

The soft tut of Jin’s mouth above you comes just before the brush of his hand falls across the plane of your back, a consoling rhythm painting itself out over your spine. “Y/N, it doesn’t matter if it’s a big deal or not. It matters to you, so it matters to me.”

“Everyone probably thinks I’m such an idiot,” you exasperate into his shoulder, eased into expression by his kind words. You notice that your fingers have found their way into the excess material of Jin’s top below you, gentle digits playing absentmindedly in the small comfort of his nearness. 

“It doesn’t matter what they think of you, does it?” he advises maturely, the safety in the sureness of his tone dotting a placid trail of tingles along your arms. “It matters what you are. And what you are is a compassionate, hardworking, empathetic, intelligent ball of unstoppable creativity. So creative that you could probably think up a million new ways for weapons to be used for helping humanity instead of harming it. That’s the kind of beautiful and good-hearted person you are, Y/N, and no amount of bullshit from your boss can change that truth.” 

By the time Jin’s confession is done tumbling eloquently from his pink lips, your head is lifting off of his shoulder to gaze up at him with glossy eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” he laughs at your unbelief. He scans your face for a moment, dark eyes getting distracted by the adorable and childish puff of your cheeks and the way your eyes are even more vibrant after a fresh wash of tears, ever-beautiful with your jutted bottom lip still slightly shaking. A placate grin weaves its way lazily into the web of his features as he takes you in, his free hand still gently pressing rogue hairs away from the frame of your picture. 

“If you want to set up a meeting, I’d be happy to come in to your work and give my speech again,” Jin offers teasingly, now desiring to see the other end of your emotional spectrum. “With all my recent MC-ing gigs, I’ve basically become a professional public speaker. That mixed with this handsome face? Who wouldn’t believe me when I say you’re wonderful?”

His jibbing words spur a giggle that vibrates out from your chest, the sound reading oddly in your ears after all the dejection. “Always so full of yourself,” you tease back, playfully shoving his chest as he grins that sweet smile at you. You find yourself unable to break the mirror of his beam, reflecting back your own minute grin as he snatches your hand away from his chest.

“That’s my girl,” he dotes, absorbing the scene of your lips curling serenely, the way it bunches your face up into a vision of perfect apple cheeks and a button nose. As he breathes in the sight of you grinning endearingly, unaware of the way your chaste giggles make his heart race, he bravely reaches out a hand and swiftly wiggles it against your side, eliciting the much desired response of your high pitched squeals in protest.

“Kim Seokjin, don’t you dare,” you warn, your eyes twinkling with a newfound energy as the subject of your distraction grins mischievously. Without heed, Jin’s hands dart out once more, an iron grip resting around your hips as you’re tugged towards him. All hope is lost as you’re surrounded by the warmth of Jin, being tucked away in the pocket of his legs as he attacks, lithe fingers skirting over the skin at your sides and neck, the two most vulnerable areas, as you’re subjected to unrelenting belly laughs surging up from the pit of your stomach. Your hands press against the planes of Jin’s chest, desperately trying to escape his clutches, but all in vain, the strength of his hold only being fed by the jovial sound of your laughter filling his ears. 

“Stop! Stop, please! It hurts, it hurts,” you laugh giddily, one hand swatting away at Jin while the other clutches your happily sore stomach. Thankfully, Jin’s tickles cease, his fingers remaining in the curve of your waist as your matching laughter dies out. As the blur of happy tears clears away from your eyes, they come to rest only inches from Jin’s face, unaware of how close you two had gotten in the midst of his cheering up. Your body stalls in his lap as your eyes flit, suddenly nervous, across his features, the smooth melanin tone of his skin glowing against the dimming light filtering in through the window. Soft, minty breath pants gently between the pillows of his parted lips, the peeking of his dazzling teeth hidden behind. Dark lashes hood the pools of chocolate brown swimming in the whites of his eyes, the details blurred amongst the irises now visible in the varying shades of cocoa ringed in layers around his pupil. 

You’re acutely aware of where your hands rest in the junctures of his neck and shoulders, thumbs brushing the rise of his protruding collarbone that has come to light at the jaunty shift of his shirt. Jin’s eyes hover over every inch of your face, reinspecting the already memorized location of the faded freckles dotting just over the bridge fo your nose, the baby mole hidden against your jawline, and the almost imperceptible scar carved into the edge of your eyebrow from a playground accident as a child. He soaks in every blemish and perfect imperfection upon your person, his throat clenching with the familiar pit of desire as his gaze lands upon your lips, pale pink and pouty, slightly parted in pause as you stare wide eyed up at him. 

Something in your stomach contracts, tensing with an emotion you’ve never experienced with Jin before. You flinch at the feeling, having the momentary thought to pull yourself out of Jin’s grasp, but finding yourself unable to, the strange sensation spurring an undying curiosity. 

Jin swallows, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort, before he speaks. “I don’t know if it’s because you look especially tempting right now, but...I want to kiss you.”

Your heart hammers out of your chest at Jin’s admission, the sensation in your tummy only intensifying with a burn as his tongue darts out involuntarily to gloss his plump lips. You gulp deeply as your eyes train themselves on the cupid’s line of his mouth, mesmerized suddenly by the vision of them. 

Jin’s eyes glance up to yours then, his statement still hanging heavily in the air between the two of you. As the fire in your stomach rages, it ignites something that you know won’t be doused easily. Still unsure of yourself or the feeling bubbling inside of you, you stare up at your best friend in a way you never have before, suddenly very aware of the way your body is subconsciously curling into Jin’s.  

“Y/N...” he breathes out slowly, his eyes blurring as they study you. “I really want to kiss you.”

You barely feel your head bobbing forward with a whisper of stunned permission, watching with wide eyes as an almost hungry need passes over Jin’s face, a glint of something unfamiliar to you flashing in his irises. His eyes return to gaze at your lips, wetting his own absentmindedly once more as his head descends the short distant to yours. His lips pause for just a moment, hovering centimeters away from your own as he allows you a moment to rethink your options, but you can’t bring yourself to think about anything other the blush red of Jin’s pout hanging tantalizingly over yours. 

Impatience surges through your body, the aching tug in your chest unbearable in this stall propelling you to apply the finishing pressure at the nape of Jin’s neck, pulling him the remaining micro distance to your lips. The moment the blanket of his kiss covers you, you feel like you’re melting into a puddle of noodle limbs and numb muscles, the only thing you feel being the extreme sensitivity of every nerve ending in your body lighting at once.

Once Jin recovers from the fraction of shock at your initiation, he greedily presses himself to you, a nimble hand cradling you to his chest while the other languidly trails up your side to plant itself on the curve of your neck, gooseflesh exploding under the deft working of his fingers. His mouth moves against yours adeptly, the ecstasy and bliss of the long awaited feeling of your lips laid flush with desire against his almost overwhelming. 

You gain self-assurance at the roaming of Jin’s wide hands over your body, completely unaware, until now, of just how desperate you are for his touch, suppressed desire unfurling from its slumber in the pit of your stomach, the fuel to your fire. Your hands raise to tangle themselves in the garden of his black tendrils, your nails biting at his scalp to tug a rumbling moan from the back of his throat. Strong arms lower themselves to your waist, yanking you up from your position off the side of his lap and prompting you to swing your leg over the other side in order to straddle his thighs, all without breaking his precious connection. 

From this new location, he takes advantage of how much closer he can get to you, pressing your chest flush against his with a needy palm. The entirety of your arms slings around his neck, feeling unable to get enough of his figure within your reach. Jin’s fingers slide delicately down the side of your waist, this time eliciting tingles instead of giggles, as he bravely pushes the fabric of your top up a few inches exposing the tempting skin of your hip and the soft slope of your tummy. Jin greedily gropes the newly solicited flesh, methodically rubbing various shapes into your muscles, causing a fresh wave of heat to bubble in your stomach. 

Tilting his head to the side, Jin deepens the kiss, his tongue sponging a stripe along your captive bottom lip, seeking entry into a more intimate part of you. You gasp at the sudden prodding, Jin not missing a beat as he eagerly presses into your mouth, his tongue administering a playful and easy fight with your own. His pearl-like teeth find a hold around the flesh of your bottom lip, biting gently, but enough to shoot jolts through your skin, causing you to jump a bit in his arms with a smothered squeal. You feel him grin amusedly against your mouth, holding you tightly against him as his chest vibrates with laughter. 

It’s with taxed lungs that you pull away for a moment, only to catch your breath, but Jin’s mouth chases after yours nonetheless, whining with objection at the loss of contact. You giggle at his childish pout before he grips your chin between his fingers, tilting you towards him as he feverishly reconnects your lips to his, moving desperately against you. 

“How will I ever get enough of you now that I know what you taste like?” Jin pants, detaching himself from you only to move his unrelenting administrations along the line of your jaw and down your neck, using his firm fingers to tilt your head for easier access. He comes to rest on the smooth skin just under your ear, jolting you when he suddenly begins to harshly suck the flesh, the sting blooming under his mouth quickly soothed by the cool stripe of his tongue drawing over it.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he continues to spill in between his stops along the curve of your throat. Your head is thrown back in rapture, reduced to nothing under his spine-melting kisses, until your attentions are drawn back down to where you can feel the excitement of Jin press against you, the reaction to the heat in his own stomach manifesting itself. Your eyes widen as you take him in, trying your best to address his desire while under the blurring distraction of his lips working over your skin. 

Thoughts begin to sift through your head, but you anxiously push them aside, unwilling for any of your nerves or over-thought to pull the closeness of this beautiful man from your mind’s front. Steeling yourself with the wish to please Jin as much as he’s pleasing you, you release half of your hold in his hair, your hand trailing down his unaware body to the rise of his trousers where your trembling and inexperienced fingers brush over his arousal. 

A sharp hiss cuts between Jin’s clenched teeth, the pleasured sound sedating you. Your fingers halt upon him, unsure of what to do next, until Jin speaks, his arms coiling closely around your shoulders as he pulls back the hair from over your ear, whispering, “Please don’t stop.”

His voice sends chills down your spine that begin turning the cogs in your body again, your fingers trailing over the line of his member a few more times, reveling in the feeling of his long figure squirming with need against yours. You bravely expand your hand, pressing the plane of your palm around him and rubbing slowly, deliberately, blissfully listening to the soft moans and hisses of pleasure seeping from Jin’s clenched throat, his head resting on your shoulder as you work. 

Continuing your gentle massage, Jin lolls his head sideways, meeting your hooded gaze as he seeks out your lips once more, this time more ginger than before. The softness of his swollen pout becomes infinitely more intimate as he takes his time with you, lazy and lovely strokes of his tongue brushing against yours. You feel his wide hand paint a line down to the raised hem of your shirt again, his fingers fitting themselves under the fabric to run against the flesh over your ribs, delicate pads coming to a stop just under the lining of your bra. 

“I want to make you to feel good too,” he barely whispers, his lips ghosting over your face as he speaks in a raspy octave. You groan with permission as Jin’s hand slips slowly under the fabric of your support, phantom fingers tracing the underside of your sensitive flesh, allowing you time to get used to the sensation before he has you mewling for more. You feel him grin against your cheek as your head falls against his chest, groaning with gratification as he gingerly palms your breast, his thumb passing over the rise of your nipple, making you wriggle against him. You fist the fabric of his shirt in between your fingers as his other hand joins the cause, placating the matching hill of flesh with equal attention. 

After a few moments, he has you squirming in his lap, a win-win for him as your thighs grind into his arousal, satiating his needs along with your own. Once the pleasure becomes to much, you eagerly search for his lips again, desiring to alleviate some of the build-up by sponging your affection against him. It’s to your reluctance that Jin pulls away, panting heavily as he rests his forehead against yours. Despite your disappointment that the beauty before you has retreated for the time being, you have to admit your gratefulness for a chance to recuperate, the sudden turn of the events tonight leaving you with a lot to mull through.

Glancing up, you meet Jin’s already staring eyes, two lopsided grins slowly mirroring each other as incredulous and elated laughter spills out between the both of you. Jin’s hand raises to cup your cheek, his thumb skimming the disappearing redness under your glossy eyes. “Feel better?”

You grin stupidly, rolling your eyes up in mock thought. “Hmm, I don’t know...” you joke, not really expecting the dark and teasingly tantalizing look that appears on Jin’s face. 

“I think I know how to fix that.” He grins wickedly, laughter echoing throughout the dorm as he scoops you up in his arms, all of the humiliation and self-doubt of an hour ago long forgotten as you’re whisked happily away to Jin’s bedroom where more newfound fun awaits. 

#kim seokjin #bts jin #jin blurb #jin imagines #jin smut #jin fluff #jin angst #jin reaction #jin fake texts #jin scenarios #jin x reader #jin x you #euphoria #lol i got a little carried away #this is super long #I HOPE YOU LIKED IT #gold-gguk #jin masterlist #bts one shot #bts+imagines #bts scenarios #bts blurbs #bts x reader #bts x you

[alastar-wyatt]

Body Language- Alastar

abold what you apply to your muse.

italicize what applies, but isn’t oftentimes established in detail.

DEFENSIVENESS :

arms crossed on chest • crossing legs • fist - like gestures • pointing index finger • karate chops • the fig leaf position • stiffening of shoulders • tense posture • curling of lip / baring of teeth •

REFLECTIVE :

hand - to - face gestures • head tilted • stroking/tapping chin • peering over glasses • taking glasses off — cleaning • putting earpiece of glasses in mouth • pipe smoker gestures • putting hand to bridge of nose • pursed lips, knitted brows •

SUSPICION :

arms crossed • sideways glance • touching or rubbing nose • rubbing eyes • hands resting on weapon • brows raising • lips pressing into a thin line • strict, unwavering eye contact • wrinkling of nose •

OPENNESS   &   COOPERATION :

open hands • upper body in sprinters position • sitting on edge of chair • hand - to - face gestures • unbuttoned coat • tilted head • slacked shoulders, droopy posture •  feet pointed outward • palms flat and facing outward •

CONFIDENCE :

hands behind back • hands on lapels of coat • steepled hands. • baring teeth in a grin • rolling shoulders • tipping head back but maintaining eye contact • chest puffed up / shoulders back • arms folded just above navel •

INSECURITY   &   ANXIETY :

chewing pen or pencil • rubbing thumb over opposite thumb • biting fingernails • hands in pockets • elbow bent / closed gestures • clearing throat • “ whew ” sound • picking or pinching flesh • fidgeting in chair • hand covering mouth whilst speaking • poor eye contact • tugging at pants whilst seated • jingling money in pockets • tugging at ear • perspiring hands • playing with hair •swaying • playing with pointer / marker • smacking lips • sighing • rocking on balls of feet • flexing fingers sporadically • fiddling with rings •

FRUSTRATION :

short breaths • “ tsk ” sound • tightly clenched hands • fist - like gestures • pointing index finger • rubbing hand through hair • rubbing back of neck • snarling • revealing teeth / grimacing • sharp eyed glowers w/ notable tension in brow • shoulders back, head up - defensive posturing • clenching of jaw / grinding teeth • nostrils flaring, heavy exhales •

Tagged by: @aryielle-harrison (haha, thanks for the tag :) )

Tagging: @selisegraves @karthe-surick @ayaidus-nightoak

#prompt #alastar #alliance

[fairglenned]

SCARY MUSE AESTHETICS.

tagged by: @makercursed tagging: uhhh you

bloodied knuckles / tear-stained cheeks / rust / a busted lip / claws / fangs / a bloody nose / chattering teeth / a dark space underneath the bed / scratching noises on a wall / creaking metal / fog / dancing under moonlight / blood dripping lips / heavy breathing in the dark / a feeling of unexplained dread / a figure in a dark corner / dirty peeling wallpaper / a bloody hand print on the wall / sobbing in the dark / bite marks on the skin / eerie whispers / a hood covering a stranger’s eyes / the growl of a hidden animal / the sound of a blade being sharpened / a deep, dark forest / walking on the streets alone at night / a cobweb-filled, abandoned building / eyes darting in paranoia / a heavy beating pulse / the feeling of being trapped / struggling to get out a scream / boards covering broken windows / a quiet graveyard / a gas station in the middle of nowhere / a road that never ends / heavy fog rolling in / the scent of blood in the air / eerie old photographs / walking along train tracks at night / a chill going up the spine / gathering crows / a dusty, dimly lit study / mist over a deserted cobblestone street / ghost towns / shadows around a campfire / the sound of chanting / church bells tolling / an orange harvest moon / a broken down carnival / a dirty stuffed animal abandoned / wiping bloody hands on fabric / nightmares / waking up in a panic / a power outage / heavy lightning storms / a secret trap door / the feeling of being watched / fear from trauma / a ouija board set out on a table / an eerie doll / a scream of anguish and pain / withered plants / a room that’s been forgotten and gathered dust / owl eyes in the dark / curled, dead tree branches / a ritual altar / flickering candles / a lantern held up in the dark / fear of being followed / creaking floorboards / repressed, horrible memories / clenched teeth / soft, echoing piano keys / an old book covered in dust / many pairs of glaring eyes / stumbling in pitch black darkness / being stranded in the middle of nowhere / tarot cards on a table / a trail of blood

#blue; the most human color. ( aesthetic ) #good things come to those who wait. ( queue )

[brutal-strength-blog]

Heavy breathing and growling were all that could be heard from the monster of a man. His steps were heavy, his hand tight around the cleaver in his hand. The edge of it burned hot with his hatred for the entity, but he was forced to comply, lest he be tortured once again. His eyes focused on the path ahead of him, listening for the environment. 

He heard crows sound off in the distance, his eyes jumping up to watch it fluttering away before setting off on his chase. There had to be a survivor there. There had to be a reason the crows had moved. He pushed his way past the boxes of his mining company’s warehouse, knocking them over in his furious rush for the first survivor he saw.

@quick-quiet

#⛓️ living through the pain and suffering. ( ic. ) #quick-quiet

[oxlw-blog]

* RUSSIAN LITERATURE AESTHETIC .

bold whatever applies to / attracts your muse.

BROTHERS KARAMAZOV /   orthodox monasteries, deep woods, starry nights, the sound of paper being torn, dimly lit rooms, withered roses, an unfinished letter, piles of books, the sound of shattering glass, ticking of clocks in a silent house, heavy wooden furniture, the air before a storm, the smell of earth, a crowd of people dressed in black, distant murmurs, emptied streets, the fear of walking alone in dusk.

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT /   coldness of the skin against a blade, slender pale fingers and slightly shaking hands, a red stain blooming on white fabric, lonely steps in a corridor, the slow dripping of water, looking out a window into the thickening darkness,a single dying candle on the table, listening to one’s breath and counting heartbeats, too many stairs,the desire to be invisible, a subtle memory of kind word.

THE IDIOT /   classical statues, wealth covered with dust, a dark house tainted with inherited madness, an unsettling feeling, long walks in a park, useless chatter, a silken ribbon forgotten on a bench, a melancholic face, an unexpected spring rain, the joy of reading one’s favorite book, the clarity of mind after fully perceiving the world around,looking at cloudless sky.

ANNA KARENINA /   fields of crops, flowers brought from an early morning walk,  the wind caressing a girl’s hair, a bowl of fruit, the smell of ripe pears, the clatter of a spoon against porcelain when stirring tea, children’s laughter coming from the garden, soft sunlight and white curtains, the sensation of velvet against skin, pearls from a ripped necklace spilling on marble floor, a sudden silence in a room full of people.

WAR AND PEACE /   a glass of wine, the brightness of  a crystal chandelier, white lace, a raging snow storm, the sound of a door being gently closed, the moment of holding one’s breath before walking in a ball room, indulging in looking at a beautiful earring against light, closing one’s eyes for a moment while dancing, the sweet smell of strawberries, a pair of gloves left on an armchair, light scent of powder.

THE MASTER AND MARGARITA /   the chaos of a lively city, ambient jazz in expensive restaurants, jumping on a moving tram, the sight of moscow from the roof of a house, yellow flowers in a vase, leaning out of the window, shelves stacked with books, a small tin box with old photographs, strange shapes in the night sky, laughing in the middle of the night on a balcony, colorful posters for a surreptitious magician’s show floating in the wind.

EUGENE ONEGIN /   a lonely mansion, reading a book in the parlor, faint piano melody lingering in falling silence, long evenings, passing seasons, discussing french novels of the moment, unspoken thoughts, leaning against the door frame, quickly averted glance,eating a peach absent-minded, bright mornings, footprints in snow, a loud gun-shot terrifying a flock of birds nearby.

FATHERS AND SONS /  birch groves, morning mist, moss-covered stones near a moor,scientific books, white roses, cheap champagne, shabby pocket-watch, light-hearted irony, a maladroit cello sonata, freshly mowed grass, leaving thoughts come and go, a slow yawn, picturesque plates and bowls filled with traditional dishes, drinking tea on the porch.

DOCTOR ZHIVAGO /   a strange feeling of loss, writing poems in a diary, traveling by train, the hesitation before touching someone’s hand, the gaze of one lost in thought, the warmth of cinnamon, a scarf brightly embellished with flowers, a glass of water, a threadbare jacket, the tempting void, the evanescent serenity of yesterday.

CHERRY ORCHARD /   a lone chair in an empty room, falling blossoms, old samovar, the unsettling need for change, a mirror reflecting full moon, the disappointment of a glossy object turning worthless after second glance, a piano out of tune.

tagged by :   @dettektiv tagging : Anyone-

#┇= Black Wig #hegotallsurprisedtoseehimselftaggedinsomething//nice//

[youre-obsessed-with-me-still]

Aesthetic for Taalilililiaah

Bloodied knuckles | Tear stained cheeks | Rust | A busted lip | Claws | Fangs | A bloody nose | Chattering teeth | A dark space underneath the bed | Scratching noises on a wall | Creaking metal | Fog | Dancing under moonlight | Blood dripping lips | Heavy breathing in the dark | A feeling of unexplained dread | A figure in a dark corner |  Dirty peeling wallpaper | A bloody handprint on the wall | Sobbing in the dark | !!Bite marks on the skin!! | Eerie whispers | A hood covering a stranger’s eyes | The growl of a hidden animal | The sound of a blade being sharpened | A deep, dark forest | Walking on the streets alone at night | A cobweb-filled, abandoned building | Eyes darting in paranoia | A heavy beating pulse | The feeling of being trapped | Struggling to get out a scream | Boards covering broken windows | A quiet graveyard | A gas station in the middle of nowhere | A road that never ends | Heavy fog rolling in | The scent of blood in the air | Eerie old photographs | Walking along traintracks at night | A chill going up the spine | Gathering crows | Mist over a deserted cobblestone street | Ghost towns | Shadows around a campfire | The sound of chanting | Church bells tolling | An orange harvest moon!!! | A broken down carnival | A dirty stuffed animal abandoned | Wiping bloody hands on fabric | Nightmares | Waking up in a panic | A power outage | !!!Heavy lightning storms!!! | A secret trap door | The feeling of being watched | Fear from trauma | A Ouija board set out on a table | An eerie doll | A scream of anguish and pain | Withered plants | A room that’s been forgotten and gathered dust  | Owl eyes in the dark | Curled, dead tree branches | A ritual altar | Flickering candles | A lantern held up in the dark | Fear of being followed | Creaking floorboards | Repressed, horrible memories | Clenched teeth | Soft, echoing piano keys | An old book covered in dust | Many pairs of glaring eyes | Stumbling in pitch black darkness | Being stranded in the middle of nowhere | Tarot cards on a table | A trail of blood

#tallia #god you lesbian stop being creepy #roleplaymun

[sonreyes]

The middle of the road Somewhere I’ve always known I’d trace my fingers over the barbed wire fences As we’d drive through dust obscuring the senses The endless fields of dying grass and black oak trees I pretend I don’t still dream of these things If only I could fly away Where dirt roads won’t lead Where my sun hasn’t set Where the world doesn’t bleed How Elegant Lights Play Meticulously Every night If only I could fly away Where dirt roads won’t lead Where my sun hasn’t set Where the world doesn’t bleed I lay my flowers there Memorializing that strangers’ stare Of all the muscles and marrow There are places I still won’t go Each finger is tied to their string I pretend I don’t think of these things If only I could fly away Where dirt roads won’t lead Where my sun hasn’t set Where the world doesn’t bleed Heavy breathing Elevated by dreams Little Princess Meet me Every night I fly away every night Somewhere dirt roads won’t go Police sirens don’t sing their sorrow These handcuffs have a key Somewhere someone still searches for me //Missing Persons By: Alec Prado//

#poem #poetry #missing person #words #eulogy #sonreyes poetry #sonreyes #missing persons

[trxpwire-blog]

@fuckbirthdays { cont’d from }

Heavy-booted feet hit the wooden floor and the door to the mansion kicked open. The screen door was still shuddering under the impact of hitting the wall when Lucas stepped out into the flickering dim of the porch light, milky-pale eyes seeming to glow faintly from under the shadow cast from his hood. Breathing slow, heavy breathes, his eyes scanned the backyard. Save for the always-faint candlelight emanating from Zoe’s trailer, it was empty. No sign of the escapee.

It was from the hive-mind that the family was alerted. A Molded had seen movement, had watched Clancy flee. Too slow and too fucking stupid to have caught up with him. And as always, he thought with a curl of his lip, it was the job of the family dog to go and play fetch. 

Lucas strode down the grassy path, boots squelching under the mud, hands jammed into the pockets of his hoodie. Quiet. As-per-fucking-usual. How the hell was he supposed to sniff out this ‘new brother’ his sister wanted so badly? The answer, apparently, was annoyingly obvious. A single glance at the fence said everything: blood stains, in the shape of a very distinct three-fingered hand. ‘Oh, Clancy Clancy Clancy...’ He thought as he jumped the fence to follow, ‘You fucking idiot.’

Tracking him was shockingly easy work. Was this trail of blood and tears the guy’s way of playing Hansel and Gretel? With a snicker, he couldn’t decide if the Baker home was meant to represent the abusive mother or the witch’s oven. 

It wasn’t until he found the hat that he stopped. He couldn’t think of a time when Clancy wasn’t wearing this stupid thing. Tugging it out of the briars, he pocketing it with a frown. If the guy was willingly wearing it even as he was actively being hunted in the house, what state of mind was he in to willingly leave it behind?

“Clancy~” Lucas called out, his voice hanging in the silence of the swamp, “It’s rude to leave without sayin’ goodbye first, don’t ya think?”

#fuckbirthdays #non ca