#` ━ ✿ ⁞ (AESTHETIC.) // THOUSANDS OF CHERRY BLOSSOMS DANCING IN THE LIGHT. ◞ :

[eunseoksimp]

Siren ; Lee Anton

Pairings: Obsessive!Anton x Femme Fatale!Reader

Genre: Angst

Description: at seonghwa academy, you reign like a queen—flawless, untouchable, and cold as ice. your beauty is your weapon, used to control and manipulate those who fall under your spell. but when you catch the eye of anton, a brooding athlete with a quiet intensity, you meet your match. beneath his silence lies a dark obsession, a twisted desire that mirrors your own. as you engage in a dangerous dance of power and control, the line between.

Warnings: manipulation, obsessive behaviour, anton is low-key unhinged, death

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

in the heart of seoul, hidden away from the prying eyes of the common folk, lay seonghwa academy—a sanctuary for the elite. the school was a sprawling estate, its towering gates adorned with intricate gold designs, a symbol of the wealth and privilege that lay within. beyond the gates, the grounds stretched out in a lavish display of manicured gardens, where ancient cherry blossom trees stood sentinel, their delicate pink petals drifting like snowflakes in the gentle breeze.

the main building of the academy was a marvel of architecture, a blend of traditional korean aesthetics and modern grandeur. its walls were of pristine white stone, polished to a shine, with high windows that allowed sunlight to pour in, casting long, golden rays across the polished marble floors.

inside, the halls were wide and lined with portraits of illustrious alumni, men and women who had gone on to shape the world, all of them linked by the common thread of privilege and power. the ceiling soared above, adorned with chandeliers that glittered like a constellation of stars, their crystal drops refracting light into a thousand tiny rainbows that danced across the room.

it was within these halls that you held court, like a queen surveying her kingdom. your presence was a force unto itself, commanding attention without a word, demanding devotion without a single gesture. you moved through the school like a wisp of smoke, impossible to grasp but impossible to ignore. wherever you went, a hush fell over those around you, as if the mere sight of you demanded reverence.

you were beautiful, but not in the way most people imagined when they thought of beauty. it wasn’t just your face, though that was a masterpiece in itself—high cheekbones, a delicate nose, lips that curled into a perfect bow. your skin was like porcelain, flawless and smooth, with a soft, ethereal glow that seemed to emanate from within, your hair, a cascade of black silk, framed a face so perfect it seemed almost unreal, like something crafted by the hands of a deity in a moment of unparalleled inspiration. your eyes, dark and mysterious, held a depth that could drown anyone who dared look too long into them, a dangerous promise hidden behind a veil of innocence.

but it was more than just your physical appearance. your beauty was a weapon, and you wielded it with precision. you were calculating, always two steps ahead, your mind a cold, sharp instrument honed to perfection. everything you did was for your own gain, every smile, every glance, every word spoken was a move in the intricate game you played. you took pleasure in your power, in the way others bent to your will without even realizing they were doing so.

and then there was your voice, soft and low, like velvet brushing against bare skin. when you spoke, people listened. they hung onto your every word, eager to please, desperate to be noticed by you.

boys fell over themselves trying to catch your attention, offering gifts, writing love letters, all in the vain hope that you might spare them a glance. you accepted their offerings with a smile that never reached your eyes, always taking, never giving. you played them like instruments, each one serving a purpose, whether it was to boost your social standing, to gain favors, or simply to amuse yourself. all blinded by the allure of being noticed by someone as unattainable as you were.

girls envied and admired you in equal measure, some even attempting to emulate your style, though none could quite capture the effortless elegance that came so naturally to you. they didn’t realize that what they saw was a facade, a carefully constructed image designed to elicit the desired response from those around you. you knew exactly how to dress, how to speak, how to act to keep them all under your thumb, to keep them guessing, to keep them wanting more.

among the crowd of admirers, anton was different.

anton was handsome, that much was undeniable. he had a certain ruggedness to him, a sharpness to his features that contrasted with the softness of yours. his hair, dark and thick, often fell across his forehead in a tousled mess that only seemed to enhance his brooding appeal. his eyes, a piercing shade of blue, stood out against his tanned skin, giving him an intensity that could be felt even from a distance. he was tall and lean, his athletic build a testament to the hours he spent training on the field, every muscle in his body honed to perfection.

but where you were a beacon of light, drawing everyone towards you, anton was a shadow, always lurking at the edges, observing from afar. he was quiet, almost painfully so, his presence more of a whisper than a shout. while others jostled for your attention, anton remained on the periphery, content—or so it seemed—to watch you from a distance. his eyes followed you wherever you went, though he rarely spoke more than a few words to anyone.

his silence made him a mystery, one that no one seemed able to solve. he was a puzzle, each piece carefully guarded, revealing nothing of the whole. few knew anything about him beyond the superficial; he was good at sports, he was handsome, and he kept to himself. only a handful of people could claim to be his friends, and even they struggled to understand the depths of his thoughts.

where others saw an angel, he saw something more—a force of nature, a tempest that he wanted to be caught in, even if it meant his own destruction. his heart beat faster when you were near, the blood in his veins turning to fire as your scent—jasmine and something darker, something that whispered of forbidden things—wafted through the air.

his shyness was a curse in your presence. while others boldly approached you, offering gifts and compliments, anton remained in the background, his love for you a silent, burning thing that threatened to consume him. he longed to speak to you, to make you see him, truly see him, but the fear of rejection, of shattering the perfect image he had of her in his mind, kept him silent.

but you noticed him, of course. how could you not? unlike the others who fell over themselves to win your favor, anton presented a challenge. he was a puzzle you wanted to solve, not out of any genuine interest, but because you hated the idea that someone in your domain could remain untouched by your influence. there was something in the way he looked at you—intense, almost possessive—that sparked a flicker of interest, but more than that, it was the challenge that intrigued you. here was someone who didn’t play by your rules, and that was unacceptable.

one crisp autumn afternoon, as the sun bathed the campus in a warm, golden light, you were making your way across the courtyard. the air was filled with the soft rustle of leaves as they fell from the trees, carpeting the ground in shades of red and gold. your footsteps were almost silent against the cobblestones, the sound barely audible over the murmurs of students passing by.

ahead, you noticed anton standing with a small group of his friends. they were near the edge of the courtyard, leaning casually against the stone balustrade that overlooked the garden below. though his friends were engaged in light conversation, anton seemed distant, his gaze unfocused as if lost in thought. it wasn’t until you were closer that his eyes snapped to you, a flash of something dark and unreadable crossing his features.

“here she comes,” one of anton’s friends, a tall boy with an easy smile, murmured under his breath, though not quietly enough to escape your notice. “the ice queen herself.”

“more like a goddess,” another boy replied, his tone tinged with admiration. “she doesn’t even have to try, does she? it’s like she was born to make us all look bad.”

there was a low chuckle from the group, but anton remained silent, his eyes still fixed on you. you allowed a small, knowing smile to curve your lips, a smile that only deepened the allure you held over them. you knew the effect you had, and you reveled in it. but this smile wasn’t just for them—it was a calculated move, a test to see how anton would react.

as you walked past, you let your gaze flicker towards anton for just a moment, long enough to meet his eyes and see the way they darkened, the intensity of his stare like a physical touch. it was a brief exchange, but it was enough to tell you what you needed to know. he wasn’t immune to you. far from it. he was just better at hiding it.

“careful, anton,” one of his friends teased, noticing the exchange. “she’s not the kind of girl you want to mess with.”

anton finally tore his gaze away from you, a faint smile ghosting across his lips as he replied, his voice low and measured, “i’m not messing with her.”

his friend raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “so what’s the plan, then? you just going to keep watching her from afar? because if you ask me, she’s out of everyone’s league here. untouchable.”

anton didn’t respond immediately, his eyes flickering back to where you had just disappeared around the corner. when he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet that his friends had to lean in to catch the words.

“some things are worth waiting for,” he said, his tone laced with a quiet conviction that sent a ripple of unease through the group.

“yeah, well, just be careful you don’t get burned,” the tall boy replied, though there was no real concern in his voice, only the easy camaraderie of someone who didn’t quite understand the depths of his friend’s obsession.

anton offered no reply, his thoughts already drifting back to you. his friends resumed their conversation, but he remained silent, his mind occupied with the image of your smile, the way it had seemed to linger on your lips just a moment too long, as if it had been meant for him alone.

later that afternoon, as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the school grounds, you found yourself in the library. it was a vast room, lined with shelves that reached up to the ceiling, filled with books that spanned every subject imaginable. the scent of aged paper hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of polished wood and the crispness of the autumn air that drifted in through the open windows.

you chose this place deliberately—your sanctuary, your throne room, where you could reign undisturbed. the library was usually deserted at this hour, a perfect place to think, to plot your next move. you moved gracefully through the aisles, your fingers trailing lightly over the spines of the books as you walked, until you reached your usual spot, a secluded table tucked away in a corner, hidden from view but with a clear line of sight to the entrance.

you settled into your seat, your back straight, your posture impeccable, as you opened a book—a volume on ancient strategies of war, a fitting choice given the games you played with those around you. but as you began to read, your thoughts kept drifting back to anton, to the way he had looked at you in the courtyard. there was something about him that you couldn’t quite place, something that made him stand out from the others. he was different, and that intrigued you.

you heard the door to the library creak open, the sound barely perceptible, but you were attuned to the slightest disturbance in your surroundings. you didn’t look up, though you knew who it was even before you heard the familiar sound of his footsteps approaching. you continued reading, allowing him to come to you, your expression calm and unreadable.

“strange seeing you here twice in one day,” anton’s voice broke the silence, soft yet edged with something dark, something that hinted at the depths beneath his calm exterior.

you slowly raised your eyes from the book, fixing him with a cool, appraising gaze. “is it?”

he stood at the edge of your table, his posture relaxed but his eyes focused, as if he were trying to decipher the meaning behind your calm demeanor. he didn’t sit down, didn’t make any move to bridge the gap between you, and you respected that. it showed that he wasn’t like the others who would have rushed to fill the silence, eager to be close to you, to bask in your presence.

“you usually avoid places like this,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur, as though the library’s quiet demanded a softer tone.

you tilted your head slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. “and yet, here you are.”

anton didn’t respond immediately. his eyes flickered to the book in your hands, his expression thoughtful. “war strategies?” he observed, raising an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “fitting.”

“for what?” you asked, your voice smooth, almost teasing, though there was a hint of steel beneath your words.

“for someone like you,” he replied, his tone flat, betraying nothing of what he might be thinking. “someone who always seems to be a step ahead.”

you allowed a soft laugh to escape your lips, though it was devoid of any real warmth. “i find it useful to stay informed,” you said, closing the book with a decisive snap. “knowledge is power, after all.”

anton’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “and you enjoy having power, don’t you?”

you met his gaze, unflinching, your expression unreadable. “wouldn’t you?”

he didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes was enough. he understood, perhaps more than anyone else. in that moment, you saw a reflection of yourself in him—a hunger, a need to control, to dominate. it was rare to find someone who could match you in this way, and it made you wonder just how far you could push him before he would break.

“why are you here, anton?” you asked, your tone light but with an underlying sharpness. “surely you didn’t come all this way just to exchange pleasantries?”

anton took a step closer, leaning slightly over the table, his eyes locked onto yours. “i came to see you.”

“did you?” you replied, feigning surprise, though you were anything but. “and what is it that you want from me?”

he took another step closer, his gaze intense, as if he were trying to penetrate your carefully constructed facade. “you already know the answer to that.”

you leaned back in your chair, creating more distance between you, as if to remind him who was in control. “perhaps,” you said slowly, your voice laced with an almost cruel amusement. “but i want to hear you say it.”

anton’s jaw tightened, the only outward sign of his frustration. he wasn’t used to being played with, and it was clear that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the power dynamic between you. but he held his ground, refusing to be the first to break.

“i want to understand you,” he said finally, the words heavy with meaning.

you raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued now. “understand me?” you echoed, your tone mocking. “how quaint. and why would you want that?”

his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were trying to see through your facade, to find the real person beneath the mask. “because you’re different from the others,” he said, his voice firm. “you don’t care about the things they care about. you’re not like them.”

you felt a flicker of satisfaction at his words, though you kept your expression neutral. “you think you’re different too, don’t you?” you asked, your voice soft, almost a whisper. “that’s why you’re drawn to me. you see something of yourself in me.”

anton didn’t deny it. instead, he straightened, putting more distance between you. “maybe,” he admitted, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice, as if he didn’t want to admit just how much you fascinated him.

you leaned forward, your eyes glinting with something dark, something that spoke of the game you were playing. “but here’s the thing, anton,” you said, your voice low and almost seductive. “just because we’re alike doesn’t mean we’re on the same side.”

anton’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them. “are you trying to warn me?”

you smiled then, a smile that held no warmth, no kindness. “no,” you said simply. “i’m just letting you know that you should be careful. you might think you understand me, but you don’t. and trying to get close to me, trying to figure me out, might not end the way you hope.”

there was a moment of silence, the tension between you so thick it was almost suffocating. anton’s expression remained unreadable, but you could see the wheels turning in his mind, could almost hear the thoughts racing through his head as he tried to decide his next move.

finally, he nodded, as if coming to some kind of internal decision. “i’ll take my chances,” he said, his voice calm, but with a resolve that made it clear he wasn’t backing down.

you studied him for a long moment, weighing his words, considering your next move. and then, you smiled again, this time a real smile, one that hinted at something more, something dangerous. “good,” you said softly, leaning back in your chair. “i was hoping you would say that.”

anton didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. he wasn’t afraid of you, and that made him even more interesting. this was going to be fun.

without another word, you stood up, the movement smooth and controlled. you gathered your things, the book you hadn’t read and the bag you carried with you everywhere. you leaned slightly over the table, bringing your face closer to his, your lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile.

"good luck, anton," you whispered, your voice low and intimate. "you’re going to need it."

and with that, you turned and walked away, leaving him sitting there, the echo of your parting words lingering in the air. as you left the library, you didn’t look back. you knew he was watching you, just as you knew he would continue to chase the idea of you, to try and uncover the truth you kept hidden behind layers of ice.

but in the end, it didn’t matter. you were always in control. anton might think he was playing the same game as you, but the truth was, he was just another piece on your board. and you? you were always several moves ahead.

the sun had set by the time you stepped outside, the evening air cool against your skin. the sky was a deep, inky blue, dotted with the first stars of the night. as you walked back to your dorm, your thoughts were already shifting to the next day, the next opportunity, the next move. anton was a distraction, an interesting one, but a distraction nonetheless. you had bigger plans, bigger goals, and you wouldn’t let anything—or anyone—stand in your way.

as the door to your dormitory closed behind you, you allowed yourself one last, fleeting thought of anton, of the way his eyes had burned with that cold fire, the way he had tried to match your coldness with his own. it was a futile effort, but it had been amusing, if only for a moment.

and then, with the finality of a chess player making the winning move, you pushed the thought from your mind, focusing instead on the game that truly mattered—the one where you were always the queen, and everyone else was just another pawn.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

the days began to blur into one another, the once vibrant tapestry of autumn fading into the cold, muted tones of winter. seonghwa academy, with all its grandeur and decadence, seemed almost timeless in its beauty, untouched by the passage of the seasons. the cherry blossoms had long since fallen, leaving the trees bare, their skeletal branches scratching at the sky like bony fingers. the manicured gardens were now coated in a thin layer of frost, a glittering veil that shimmered in the pale morning light.

you moved through the academy like a specter, your presence felt more than seen. the halls were your domain, each corridor a labyrinth where you pulled the strings, where every whisper, every glance was carefully orchestrated. the students, your pawns, fell in line, their lives intertwined with yours in ways they could never fully understand. you held court in the shadows, your influence seeping into every corner, every conversation.

anton was no exception. from the moment he had sought you out in the library, you had known he would be different, a challenge unlike the others. and challenges, you had learned, were meant to be conquered.

he was drawn to you like a moth to a flame, his obsession growing with each passing day. it was subtle at first—an extra glance in your direction, a lingering look that held just a bit too long. but soon, it became something more, something palpable. you could feel his eyes on you even when you weren’t looking, could sense his presence lurking at the edge of your awareness like a shadow that refused to be shaken.

you began to toy with him, your moves calculated and deliberate, each interaction becoming a carefully orchestrated dance. the academy, a place of prestige and ambition, provided the perfect backdrop for your machinations. its grand halls and meticulously maintained gardens were a testament to the wealth and power of its patrons, and you knew how to navigate this world with ease.

your interactions with anton began innocently enough. it started with small things—catching his eye in the hallway and holding his gaze just a moment longer than necessary, brushing past him in the crowded corridors, your touch fleeting but deliberate. you could see the effect it had on him, the way his breath hitched, the way his composure faltered ever so slightly. it was intoxicating, the power you held over him, the way you could bend him to your will with nothing more than a look.

one evening, as the first snow of the season began to fall, you found yourself in the school’s music room, a place rarely visited by anyone outside of classes. the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the sconces on the walls, casting long shadows that danced across the polished wood floors. the air was filled with the faint scent of old sheet music and the lingering notes of a piano that hadn’t been played in years.

you had come here to think, to plot your next move, but the silence was soon broken by the sound of the door creaking open. you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. you could feel anton’s presence, the way the air seemed to thicken with his arrival.

“you shouldn’t be here,” you said, your voice a soft whisper that barely disturbed the quiet.

“neither should you,” he replied, his tone calm but with an undercurrent of something darker, something that hinted at the storm brewing beneath his surface.

you turned slowly to face him, your eyes meeting his with a cool, detached gaze. “i go where i please,” you said simply, as if that explained everything.

anton stepped further into the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. he was dressed in the school’s uniform, but it seemed somehow more disheveled, the tie loosened, the shirt untucked at the edges, as if he had grown careless with his appearance. his hair was tousled, the dark strands falling into his eyes, but it did nothing to diminish the intensity of his gaze.

“why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice steady but with a hint of desperation, as if he were struggling to keep his emotions in check.

you tilted your head slightly, feigning ignorance. “doing what?”

anton’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he took a step closer. “you know what,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “why are you playing with me?”

a smile ghosted across your lips, a smile devoid of any warmth, any humanity. “because i can,” you replied, your tone light, almost mocking. “because it amuses me.”

anton’s eyes darkened, the shadows in the room seeming to grow longer, deeper. “you think this is a game?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly with barely restrained anger.

“everything is a game,” you said, your voice as cold and unfeeling as the snow falling outside. “and you’re just another piece on the board.”

he stared at you, his expression a mixture of anger and something else, something you couldn’t quite place. there was a darkness in him, a darkness that mirrored your own, and for a moment, you almost felt something—a flicker of recognition, of understanding. but you quickly pushed it aside, reminding yourself of who you were, of what you were.

“i don’t want to be your pawn,” anton said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“then don’t be,” you replied, your tone dismissive. “no one’s forcing you to play.”

but you both knew that wasn’t true. he was trapped, ensnared in a web of his own making, and there was no escape. not now. not ever.

anton took another step closer, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that was almost suffocating. “what do you want from me?” he asked, his voice hoarse, as if the words had been dragged from the depths of his soul.

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you felt something stir within you, something you couldn’t quite identify. but then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating detachment that had always served you so well.

“i want to see how far you’ll go,” you said, your voice soft, almost seductive. “how much you’re willing to sacrifice for me.”

anton’s eyes narrowed, suspicion and anger flaring in equal measure. “and what if i’m not willing to give you what you want?” he asked, his voice challenging, daring you to push him further.

you smiled then, a smile that was all sharp edges and hidden dangers. “oh, anton,” you said, your tone dripping with condescension. “you will. you won’t be able to help yourself.”

there was a moment of silence, the tension between you so thick it was almost suffocating. and then, without warning, anton reached out, his hand gripping your wrist with a force that sent a shock of pain up your arm. his touch was cold, his fingers like iron bands that held you in place, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of fear, a fear that you hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“don’t underestimate me,” anton said, his voice low, dangerous. “i’m not like the others. i won’t break for you.”

you met his gaze, your eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, you saw the truth in his words. anton wasn’t like the others. he was stronger, more resilient, and that made him dangerous. but it also made the game more interesting, more challenging. and you had never been one to back down from a challenge.

“we’ll see,” you said, your voice steady, unyielding.

anton held your gaze for a moment longer, his grip on your wrist tightening before he finally let go. you watched him as he stepped back, his expression unreadable, the storm in his eyes raging just beneath the surface.

“this isn’t over,” he said, his voice low, filled with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“no,” you replied, your tone calm, composed. “it’s just beginning.”

with that, anton turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room, the silence pressing down on you like a weight. you watched him go, a small smile playing on your lips, your mind already working, already planning your next move.

the game was far from over, and you had no intention of losing. anton was a challenge, a puzzle that you were determined to solve, no matter what it took. and if you had to break him in the process, then so be it.

after all, in the end, there could only be one winner.

as the days passed, you continued to play your game, each move calculated, each interaction designed to push anton further, to test the limits of his obsession. you gave him tasks, small at first—bring you a book from the library, fetch you a drink from the cafeteria—but each one was a test, a way to gauge just how far he was willing to go for you.

and he did them all, without question, without hesitation. it was almost too easy, the way he bent to your will, the way he followed your every command. but there was something about the way he did it, the way he looked at you with those dark, intense eyes, that told you he wasn’t doing it out of fear, or even out of a desire to please you. no, there was something else driving him, something deeper, something darker.

you began to push him harder, your requests growing more demanding, more invasive. you asked him to skip classes for you, to lie to his friends, to steal things from the other students. and still, he did it all, without a word of protest, without a single sign of reluctance.

it was thrilling, the power you held over him, the way you could make him do anything with nothing more than a smile, a glance, a whispered word. but there was also a danger in it, a danger that you were acutely aware of, but chose to ignore. because the truth was, you weren’t sure how far anton would go, and that uncertainty, that unpredictability, was what made the game so intoxicating.

one night, as the winter winds howled outside, you found yourself alone in your room, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows on the walls. you were seated at your desk, a glass of wine in hand, when there was a knock at the door. you knew who it was before you even opened it.

anton stood in the doorway, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was something different about him, something you couldn’t quite place. his clothes were disheveled, his hair even more tousled than usual, and there was a wildness in his eyes that sent a thrill of fear, and excitement, coursing through you.

“come in,” you said, your voice steady, betraying none of the emotions swirling within you.

he stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other, the tension in the room thick and suffocating.

“what do you want?” you asked, your tone cool, detached.

anton didn’t answer immediately. instead, he took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours, his expression intense, almost desperate.

“i want you,” he said finally, his voice low, hoarse.

you felt your heart skip a beat, the admission catching you off guard. but you quickly recovered, your composure slipping back into place like a well-worn mask.

“you can’t have me,” you replied, your tone cold, unfeeling.

“i know,” anton said, his voice barely above a whisper. “but that doesn’t change anything.”

there was a moment of silence, the two of you standing so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, could see the rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to control his breathing.

“why?” you asked, your voice soft, almost curious.

anton’s eyes darkened, the storm in them raging just beneath the surface. “because you make me feel alive,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “because i can’t stop thinking about you, even when i know i should.”

you stared at him, your mind racing, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions swirling within you. you had always known that anton was different, that he would be a challenge, but you hadn’t anticipated this, hadn’t expected to be confronted with his raw, unfiltered need for you.

“you’re a fool,” you said finally, your voice sharp, cutting.

anton flinched at your words, but he didn’t back down. instead, he took another step closer, closing the distance between you until there was barely a breath of space between you.

“maybe,” he said, his voice steady, determined. “but i’m your fool.”

you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the sheer intensity of his devotion both exhilarating and terrifying. you had played this game a thousand times before, had manipulated countless others, but this—this was different. anton was different.

“you’re playing a dangerous game,” you said, your voice low, warning.

anton’s lips curved into a small, bitter smile. “i know,” he said, his voice soft, resigned. “but i’m already too far gone to stop.”

and in that moment, you knew it was true. anton wasn’t like the others. he wasn’t just another pawn on your board, another plaything to be discarded when you grew bored. he was something else, something more. and that realization sent a thrill of fear, and excitement, coursing through you.

he hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was struggling to find the right words. “i can’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted finally, his voice raw with emotion. “you’re all i think about.”

you reached out, placing a hand on his cheek, your touch gentle but possessive. “and what do you think about, anton?”

his breath hitched at your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. “everything. your smile, your voice, the way you move. it’s driving me crazy.”

you leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his. “is that so?” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin.

he nodded, his eyes opening to meet yours. “yes. i can’t sleep, i can’t focus. all i want is to be near you, to make you happy.”

“then we’ll see how far you’re willing to go,” you said, your voice filled with a dangerous promise.

anton’s eyes locked onto yours, his gaze unwavering, and in that moment, you knew that whatever happened next, there was no going back.

the game was no longer just a game. it was something more, something darker, something that could destroy you both. and for the first time in a long time, you felt truly alive.

as the snow continued to fall outside, the two of you stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, the fire in the hearth casting long shadows on the walls, the only sound the crackling of the flames and the faint whisper of the wind.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

in the weeks that followed, your manipulation of anton became a carefully orchestrated dance, a twisted ballet where you led with a graceful, calculated precision, and anton followed, oblivious to the strings you pulled. each interaction was a deliberate step in this dark routine, with you guiding him ever deeper into the labyrinth of your control.

your tasks soon grew more intricate, more demanding. you asked him to dig up obscure references for your essays, to track down rare books that could only be found in forgotten corners of the city, to bring you your favorite coffee from a shop miles away from campus. each request was a thread in the web you wove around him, tightening your hold with every act of service.

anton never hesitated. his devotion to you was absolute, a blind, consuming need that drove him to fulfill your every whim without question. it was as if your presence had become a drug, one he couldn’t live without, and the more he did for you, the deeper his addiction grew. you could see it in his eyes, in the way he looked at you, as if you were the center of his universe, the very air he breathed.

as the days passed, you began to notice the subtle changes in him, changes that you observed with a detached amusement. anton’s once healthy frame grew gaunt, his cheeks hollowing out as he lost weight, the sharp angles of his bones more pronounced beneath his pale skin. dark circles formed under his eyes, a testament to the nights spent sleepless, his mind too consumed by thoughts of you to find rest.

his friends grew concerned, their worried glances and whispered questions following him wherever he went. “are you okay, anton?” they would ask, but he brushed them off with a forced smile, his thoughts always returning to you.

the sharp mind that had once been the pride of his teachers, the envy of his peers, now seemed solely focused on you, on the endless tasks and challenges you set before him. his world had shrunk, until it revolved around you alone.

one crisp afternoon, as the late sun cast a warm, golden hue over the campus, you decided it was time to push anton further. the chill in the air was sharp, a reminder of the winter, but inside the academy’s library, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of old books and the quiet hum of whispered conversations.

you found anton where you expected him, hunched over a thick volume of korean history, his eyes scanning the pages with a fervor that betrayed his exhaustion.

as you approached, he looked up, his gaze lighting up with that familiar, fervent intensity that had become so familiar to you. it was a look that both thrilled and repelled you, a reflection of the power you wielded over him.

“anton,” you said, your voice soft and sweet, a siren’s call that masked the sharpness of your intentions. “i need your help with something.”

he stood immediately, closing the book with a soft thud and giving you his full, undivided attention. “anything,” he said, his voice thick with longing, his eyes searching yours for any sign of approval.

you smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “there’s a fundraiser next week, and i need a partner for the opening dance. will you be my partner?”

his eyes widened in shock and elation, the emotions playing across his features like a silent movie. “of course,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. “i’d be honored.”

“good,” you replied, your smile widening just a fraction, enough to make his heart race. “meet me in the ballroom tonight at eight. we need to practice.”

that evening, the academy’s ballroom was a cathedral of opulence and grandeur. chandeliers hung from the high ceiling like glittering constellations, their crystal drops refracting light into a thousand tiny rainbows that danced across the polished marble floor. the scent of fresh flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of waxed wood, a testament to the academy’s commitment to luxury and tradition.

you arrived at eight sharp, your entrance a vision of calculated perfection. anton was already there, of course, nervously adjusting his tie as he waited for you. his breath caught as you stepped into the room, the soft rustle of your gown the only sound in the vast, echoing space.

you had chosen a gown of deep crimson, a shade that matched the dark currents of the game you played, the color of blood and desire. it flowed around you like liquid silk, the fabric clinging to your form before cascading to the floor in a pool of rich, dark red. your hair was swept up in an elegant chignon, a few loose tendrils framing your face, and a simple diamond necklace adorned your neck, glittering against your porcelain skin like a single drop of ice.

“you’re early,” you said, your tone light and teasing, as if you hadn’t planned every detail of this encounter down to the second.

“i didn’t want to keep you waiting,” anton replied, his voice filled with a mix of awe and devotion that made your smile widen.

you crossed the room with a deliberate grace, each step measured, each movement designed to captivate. “shall we begin?” you asked, extending your hand to him, your fingers pale against the deep crimson of your gown.

he took your hand, his grip firm yet trembling slightly, the subtle tremor sending a shiver of satisfaction through you. you led him into the dance, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, a testament to the control you exerted over him. anton followed your lead with an intensity that bordered on reverence, his eyes never leaving yours, his focus entirely on you, as if the world beyond your shared steps had ceased to exist.

as the music swelled, you leaned in closer, your breath brushing against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “you’re doing well, anton,” you murmured, your voice a soft, seductive purr. “but you need to loosen up. let go of your fears.”

he nodded, his jaw clenching with determination, the tension in his body palpable beneath your touch. you could feel the rigid control he tried to maintain, the desperate need to please you, to be perfect for you. but you wanted more. you wanted to push him further, to see just how far he would go to prove his devotion.

“anton,” you said softly, your voice barely a whisper, a breath of wind in the stillness of the ballroom. “do you trust me?”

his eyes widened, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of uncertainty, a tiny crack in the facade of his devotion. but then he nodded, his expression resolute, his voice unwavering. “yes,” he said, the word carrying the weight of a promise, a vow.

“good,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile, a smile that was both a reward and a warning. “then close your eyes and follow my lead.”

he hesitated for the briefest of moments before obeying, his eyes fluttering shut, his trust in you absolute. with his eyes closed, anton’s other senses seemed to heighten, his body attuning to yours with an intensity that bordered on desperation. you could feel his breath quicken, the rapid rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, his heartbeat pounding in his chest like the rhythm of the music, a rhythm that echoed the pulse of your own power over him.

you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear, your voice a soft caress, a velvet glove over a steel blade. “you’re mine, anton,” you whispered, the words wrapping around him like a chain. “you’ll do anything for me, won’t you?”

his breath hitched, a sharp intake of air that spoke of both fear and longing, and he nodded, his voice a ragged whisper, his will crumbling under the weight of your command. “yes.”

“good,” you murmured, a thrill of satisfaction coursing through you, a dark current that matched the crimson of your gown. “because i have another task for you.”

he opened his eyes then, his gaze locking onto yours with a desperation that was almost tangible, a need that radiated from him like heat. “anything,” he said, his voice filled with a desperate longing, a need to prove himself worthy of your attention.

you smiled, a slow, predatory smile, the smile of a hunter who knows the prey is already ensnared. “i need you to find out everything you can about professor kim. i have reason to believe he’s hiding something, and i need to know what it is.”

anton’s eyes darkened at your words, a flicker of something dangerous passing through them, a shadow of the man he was becoming under your influence. “i’ll find out,” he said, his voice firm, the resolve in his tone a reflection of the control you had over him.

you leaned back slightly, your smile widening, your satisfaction evident in the way your eyes glinted in the soft light of the chandeliers. “i knew i could count on you, anton,” you said, your voice a soft purr, a reward for his obedience.

as the music came to an end, you stepped back, breaking the connection between you, your movements fluid, graceful, a dancer stepping away from a completed performance. anton stood there, his chest heaving, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and devotion, his mind consumed with thoughts of you.

“same time tomorrow?” you asked, your tone casual, as if you hadn’t just tightened the chains of his obsession, as if this were just another dance, another game.

he nodded, his gaze never leaving yours, his heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. “yes,” he replied, his voice steady, but you could hear the undercurrent of desperation, the need to please you, to be everything you wanted him to be.

you turned and walked away, your steps light and graceful, each movement a calculated display of control and power. behind you, anton remained standing in the middle of the ballroom, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind consumed with thoughts of you, with the task you had given him. 

the game was progressing perfectly, each move bringing you closer to your goal, and you reveled in the power you held over him, in the knowledge that anton was yours, body and soul, and that you had no intention of letting him go.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

the power dynamics between you and anton had shifted to an almost surreal degree. what began as a subtle manipulation had evolved into a full-blown psychological entanglement, a dangerous dance where you were the undisputed maestro, and anton, the eager but unwitting puppet. 

each interaction was a calculated move, each touch a deliberate action to tighten the threads of control around him. you reveled in the power you held, the way you could bend him to your will with nothing more than a smile or a whispered command.

the academy’s sprawling grounds, with its grandiose architecture and serene gardens, became the stage for your most intricate schemes. the cherry blossoms in the garden, once a symbol of delicate beauty, now seemed to echo the treacherous nature of your relationship with anton. their petals floated down like fragments of innocence lost, each one a testament to the corruption blossoming between you.

one afternoon, you sat on a stone bench beneath a weeping willow. its branches hung low, creating a curtain of green that shielded you from the prying eyes of others. anton approached with the usual mix of eagerness and trepidation, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that bordered on worshipful.

“anton,” you called softly, your voice a caress against the backdrop of the rustling leaves. “i need you to handle something for me.”

“of course,” he replied, his voice a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. he was so eager to please, so desperate for your approval, that it was almost painful to watch.

you leaned in slightly, letting the air between you become charged with unspoken expectations. “there’s a student, su-jin. she’s been trying to undermine me in class, and i need you to… persuade her to stop.”

anton’s face darkened at the mention of su-jin. you could see the conflict within him, but it was quickly overshadowed by his desire to comply with your wishes. “what should I do?”

you allowed a slow, satisfied smile to creep across your lips. “find out what she’s planning, and if necessary, convince her to leave me alone. use whatever means you deem necessary.”

his eyes widened with a mixture of shock and determination. “you can count on me.”

as anton walked away, you could see the way his shoulders stiffened with resolve. it was a dangerous game you were playing, but the thrill of exerting such power over him, of watching him bend to your will, was intoxicating. you knew that anton’s obsession with you would lead him down a darker path, but you were content to watch the descent with a detached fascination.

anton’s mental state began to deteriorate as his obsession grew. he became increasingly paranoid, his thoughts consumed by the idea that no one else deserved your attention. his once bright eyes took on a haunted look, and his usually calm demeanor was replaced by a nervous restlessness. he started to isolate himself from friends, pushing them away with brusque words and averted gazes. his world had narrowed to a singular focus— you.

one evening, as the sky turned a deep shade of indigo and the stars began to prick the velvet darkness, you were walking through the gardens again. anton followed a few paces behind, his gaze fixed on you like a shadow that never wavered. he had been quiet for days, his once vibrant conversations now reduced to terse, monosyllabic responses.

“anton,” you said, turning to face him as you paused near a fountain where the water gurgled softly, creating a soothing, rhythmic sound. “you’ve been so quiet lately. is everything alright?”

he looked up, his eyes flickering with a mixture of anxiety and something darker— a possessive intensity that you noted with a hint of amusement. “everything’s fine,” he said, though his voice trembled slightly. “i’ve just been… focused.”

you could feel the shift in his demeanor, a subtle but unmistakable tension in the air. “focused on what?”

he hesitated, his gaze drifting to the ground before meeting your eyes again. “on making sure that no one else gets in the way of what we have.”

you raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. “and what is it that we have, anton?”

he swallowed hard, his throat working as if the words were difficult to form. “i… i want to make sure you’re safe. that no one can harm you or distract you from… us.”

a shiver ran down your spine at the way he said “us,” the possessive undertone clear. you took a step closer, your eyes narrowing as you assessed his state of mind.

 “anton, you know i appreciate your loyalty. but remember, you’re here to support me, not to control the people around me.”

he nodded, but the look in his eyes betrayed a different reality. the shadow of his darker side was beginning to surface more frequently. it was in the way he would flinch if he saw you talking to another student, the way his hands would clench into fists when you mentioned someone else’s name.

like when you conversed with a fellow student, your laughter ringing out in the courtyard, you caught anton’s gaze from across the lawn. his face was a mask of barely restrained fury, his eyes dark and stormy. the sight sent a thrill of dark satisfaction through you. you knew that you were pushing him to the brink, but the control you had over him was intoxicating.

afterward, as you walked through the campus, you found anton waiting for you by a secluded alcove. his expression was a volatile mix of anger and desperation. 

“why were you talking to him?” he demanded, his voice low and harsh.

you stopped, turning to face him with a calm composure. “anton, it’s just a conversation. you have nothing to worry about.”

“nothing to worry about?” he spat, his eyes blazing. “i saw the way he looked at you. you were laughing with him, enjoying his attention. what about me?”

you took a deep breath, the thrill of his jealousy and anger washing over you like a wave. “anton, you need to calm down. you’re becoming irrational.”

“irrational?” he echoed, his voice trembling with a barely contained fury. “i’m trying to protect you! you don’t understand—”

“understand what?” you interrupted, stepping closer and placing a hand on his cheek. the touch was intended to soothe, but you could feel the tension beneath his skin. “anton, you’re losing control. you need to trust me.”

he flinched at your touch, a wave of conflicting emotions crashing over him. his eyes were wild, and for a moment, you could see the extent of his obsession, the way it had twisted into something darker. 

“i don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i can’t lose you.”

you drew back slightly, the thrill of his turmoil invigorating you. “anton, you’re not losing me. but you need to focus on what’s important.”

his eyes searched yours, desperation evident in every line of his face. “i’ll do anything,” he said, his voice cracking. “just tell me what to do.”

you smiled, a smile that was both reassuring and chilling. “just remember, anton, your loyalty is what matters most. don’t let your feelings get in the way.”

this only spurred anton’s behavior to become increasingly erratic. he would often have vivid fantasies about you, his mind concocting elaborate scenarios where you were entirely his and no one else could share in your attention. these fantasies grew darker and more obsessive, painting a picture of a world where you were trapped in his own twisted vision of devotion.

one night, as the moon cast a silver sheen across the academy grounds, anton sat alone in his dorm room, his thoughts racing. the walls seemed to close in around him, and the quiet of the night was punctuated only by the sound of his own uneven breathing. he had been unable to sleep, his mind a chaotic swirl of images and emotions.

he imagined you, alone and vulnerable, with him as your sole protector. in his fantasies, you were completely dependent on him, your every move dictated by his will. the images were vivid, almost tangible— you sitting by his side, your hand in his, your eyes locked with his as he whispered promises of eternal devotion. 

but these fantasies quickly twisted into darker visions, where he had to fight off other suitors with a ferocity that bordered on violence. in these dreams, he was ruthless, striking out with an intensity that mirrored the storm within him.

when he awoke, drenched in sweat, he could still feel the echoes of his dark fantasies, the haunting intensity of his own thoughts. he stared at the ceiling, his mind struggling to separate fantasy from reality. his heart pounded, the line between his desire and his actions becoming increasingly blurred.

the next day, when you encountered anton, his demeanor was a mask of calmness, but the turmoil beneath was palpable. he tried to hide his paranoia, but the tension in his posture and the shadow in his eyes spoke volumes. he watched you with a possessive gaze, his actions more calculated, his interactions with others strained.

“anton,” you said one afternoon as you found him standing near the fountain, his gaze following you intently. “is everything alright?”

he forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “everything’s fine,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “just… making sure everything is as it should be.”

you studied him, noting the way his eyes darted toward other students, the way his hands clenched into fists. you could feel the control you wielded over him, the way his obsession had morphed into something more dangerous. the thrill of manipulating him, of pushing him to the edge, was a dark pleasure you savored.

“anton,” you said, stepping closer and lowering your voice. “i need you to trust me. I don’t want to see you like this. It’s not healthy.”

his eyes met yours, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through his facade. “i just… want to protect you,” he said, his voice a mixture of anguish and resolve.

you reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “i know, and I appreciate it. but it’s creeping me out so i need you to stop, okay?”

he nodded, but the shadows in his eyes betrayed the internal struggle he faced. you knew that his descent into obsession was far from over, and as you watched him walk away, you could almost feel the weight of his darkness pressing down on him.

the games you played were dangerous and morally ambiguous, but they had become a twisted form of entertainment for you. you had pushed anton to the brink, watching with a mix of thrill and detachment as he spiraled into obsession. the power you held over him was intoxicating, and though you knew the consequences of your actions, the pleasure of manipulation was too alluring to resist.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

the days continued to grow colder, the winter tightening its grip on seonghwa academy, transforming the once-golden landscape into a monochrome world of gray skies and snow-blanketed grounds. the chill seeped into the very bones of the school, into the ancient stone walls and the hearts of those within them, as if the academy itself were a living, breathing entity, feeding off the darkness that now hung heavy in the air.

you had been watching anton closely, more closely than ever, though you would never let him know it. there was a darkness in him that intrigued you, a shadow that had grown deeper, more pronounced since that night in your room. it was as if something had awakened in him, something raw and primal, and you could feel its presence lurking just beneath the surface of his carefully composed facade.

it had been a twisted tapestry of obsession, each thread woven with a careful hand, yet fraying at the edges with the weight of something darker. anton’s once-gentle demeanor, that quiet reserve you had once found so easy to manipulate, had slowly unraveled, revealing a shadowy core of obsession and fixation. what began as harmless devotion had curdled into something far more dangerous, an all-consuming fervor that twisted his thoughts and actions until they no longer resembled the man you had first ensnared.

the signs had always been there, lurking beneath the surface like cracks in a fragile facade. at first, they were subtle—a lingering gaze that held too much intensity, an eagerness to please that bordered on desperation. his words, once soft and measured, began to carry an undercurrent of something sharper, a hint of possessiveness that set your instincts on edge. but these were easy to dismiss, easy to overlook in the grander scheme of your game.

yet, as the days turned into weeks, those cracks deepened, splitting wide to reveal the depths of his obsession. his once kind eyes now burned with a fervor that was both unsettling and relentless, like a predator stalking its prey. the change in him was gradual, a slow, insidious transformation that you hadn’t anticipated, until one day you realized that the man before you was no longer the same anton you had once so effortlessly controlled.

what had begun as a game of manipulation had now spiraled into something far more dangerous. you had been playing with fire, testing the limits of his devotion, pushing him further and further, and now, those flames were ready to consume everything in their path. the air around him seemed charged, like the tense silence before a storm, the kind that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. you could sense the shift in him, the way his presence felt heavier, more oppressive, as if the weight of his obsession had grown too large to contain.

but you didn’t question it. you didn’t need to. after all, whatever was driving anton, whatever darkness had taken root in his soul, it only served to deepen your control over him. and that was all that mattered.

it was a chilly evening, and the academy’s grand library, usually a sanctuary of quiet knowledge, felt different tonight. the air was thick with an unsettling tension. the shadows cast by the flickering lights danced ominously on the rows of ancient, leather-bound books. you had been here often, as much to avoid the prying eyes of others as to indulge in the hidden recesses of knowledge. tonight, however, your curiosity had led you down a path of discovery you hadn’t anticipated.

you were seated in a leather armchair near the back of the library, a book in hand, though your mind was far from the words on the page. instead, your thoughts were occupied by anton, by the strange, twisted game you had been playing with him, and by the gnawing curiosity that had begun to take hold of you.

it was then that you heard the door to the library creak open, the sound pulling you from your thoughts. you didn’t need to look up to know who it was. you could feel his presence, as you always could, a dark cloud that seemed to hang over him, shadowing his every step.

anton moved through the library with the same quiet grace that had always characterized him, but there was something different about him now, something that set your nerves on edge. you watched from the corner of your eye as he made his way toward the back of the library, his gaze fixed on something you couldn’t see.

as he drew closer, you noticed that his clothes were disheveled, more so than usual, his hair unkempt, the dark strands falling into his eyes in a way that only added to the air of disarray that clung to him. there was something in his eyes, too, something wild and untamed, a flicker of madness that sent a chill down your spine.

he stopped a few feet away from you, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that was almost suffocating. you met his stare, your expression carefully composed, though you could feel the unease building in the pit of your stomach.

“anton,” you said, your voice calm, measured. “what are you doing here?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he stood there, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths, as if he were trying to keep himself under control. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it that made your skin prickle.

“i did something for you,” he said, his words clipped, precise.

you raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued despite the unease that was now thrumming through your veins. “oh?” you said, your tone light, almost teasing. “and what might that be?”

anton’s eyes darkened, the storm in them growing more intense, more dangerous. he took a step closer, his hand reaching into his coat pocket, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of fear, a fear that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

but then he pulled out a small, silver object, holding it out to you with a trembling hand. you looked at it, your heart skipping a beat as you realized what it was.

a locket. a delicate, ornate locket that you recognized immediately, because you had seen it around the neck of one of the students, a girl who had been the object of anton’s silent, simmering jealousy for weeks. she had been one of your pawns, someone you had used to stoke the fires of anton’s obsession, to push him further, to test the limits of his devotion to you.

and now, here it was, in his hand, the chain broken, the locket itself smeared with something dark, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

“anton,” you said slowly, carefully, as if speaking to a wild animal. “what did you do?”

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he looked down at the locket, his expression unreadable, before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours.

“i did it for you,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “she was in the way. she was trying to take you from me.”

your heart began to pound in your chest, a cold, creeping dread settling over you. “what did you do, anton?” you repeated, your voice sharper now, more insistent.

anton’s eyes flashed with something dark, something twisted, and he took another step closer, the locket still dangling from his fingers like a macabre trophy.

“i made sure she couldn’t take you from me,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “i made sure she would never come between us again.”

the realization hit you like a physical blow, the air leaving your lungs in a rush as the full extent of what anton had done sank in. the locket, the dark smears—blood, it was blood. he had killed her, that girl, that innocent pawn in your game, all because of his twisted, obsessive love for you.

you stared at him, your mind racing, trying to process the enormity of what had just happened. and yet, even as the horror of it all settled over you, you couldn’t help but feel a strange, twisted thrill of excitement, of power.

anton had killed for you. he had crossed a line, had stepped into the darkness, all in your name. and in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had ensnared him, how completely he had fallen under your spell.

but there was also a danger in it, a danger that you couldn’t ignore. anton was no longer just a pawn in your game. he was something else, something more dangerous, more unpredictable. and you knew that you would have to tread carefully if you were to maintain your control over him.

“anton,” you said, your voice low, soothing, as if you were trying to calm a wild animal. “you shouldn’t have done that.”

he blinked, his expression faltering for a moment, as if he were struggling to understand your words. “but i did it for you,” he repeated, his voice desperate, pleading. “i did it because i love you.”

you felt a cold, bitter laugh bubble up in your throat, but you forced it down, knowing that now was not the time for mockery. anton was on the edge, teetering on the brink of something dark and terrible, and you needed to pull him back, to regain control before it was too late.

“love?” you said, your voice soft, almost mocking. “you think this is love, anton? what you’ve done, what you’ve become—this isn’t love. it’s madness.”

his eyes widened, a flicker of pain flashing across his face, but it was quickly replaced by something darker, something more dangerous.

“no,” he said, his voice low, trembling with emotion. “no, you’re wrong. you don’t understand. everything i’ve done, i’ve done for you. because i can’t live without you. because i need you.”

you stared at him, your mind racing, trying to find the right words, the right approach to keep him from slipping further into the darkness. but even as you searched for a way to regain control, you could feel the situation spiraling out of your grasp, slipping through your fingers like sand.

“anton,” you said, your voice sharp, cutting through the thick tension in the air. “listen to me. you’ve gone too far. you’ve crossed a line, and there’s no going back. what you’ve done… it’s unforgivable.”

for a moment, he simply stared at you, his expression blank, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what you were saying. but then, slowly, something shifted in his eyes, something dark and twisted, something that made your blood run cold.

“unforgivable?” he echoed, his voice low, almost a whisper. “but i did it for you. i did it because i love you. how can that be unforgivable?”

you shook your head, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. “love isn’t supposed to be like this, anton. it’s not supposed to be… destructive.”

his expression twisted into something ugly, something full of pain and anger. “you’re wrong,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “you’re wrong. love is everything. it’s all that matters. and i would do anything—anything—to keep you. to make you mine.”

there was a desperation in his voice, a wildness that sent a shiver down your spine. you had pushed him too far, had played your game too well, and now you were faced with the consequences of your own actions.

but even as the fear gripped you, there was a part of you, a dark, twisted part, that couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement, a perverse satisfaction in knowing just how deeply you had ensnared him, how completely you had broken him.

“anton,” you said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “this has to stop. you have to let me go.”

his eyes flashed with something dark, something dangerous, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to grasp your arm with a grip that was almost painful.

“no,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “i can’t. i won’t. you’re mine. you belong to me.”

you felt a cold, creeping dread settle over you, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. anton wasn’t going to let you go. he was too far gone, too consumed by his obsession to see reason. and there was no telling what he might do, what lengths he might go to, to keep you.

“anton,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts to remain calm. “you need to let me go. this isn’t healthy. it’s not right.”

his grip on your arm tightened, his eyes blazing with a wild, desperate intensity. “i don’t care,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “i don’t care if it’s not right. i don’t care if it’s not healthy. i need you. and i won’t let you go. not ever.”

the words hung in the air like a dark, ominous cloud, the finality of them sending a shiver down your spine. you had always known that anton was different, that he was dangerous, but now, faced with the full extent of his madness, you realized just how precarious your situation had become.

you were trapped, ensnared in the very web you had so carefully woven, and there was no way out. anton’s obsession had consumed him, had driven him to the edge of sanity, and now, there was no telling what he might do, what lengths he might go to, to keep you.

“anton,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “please. let me go.”

but he only shook his head, his grip on your arm tightening, his eyes wild and desperate. “no,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “i can’t. i won’t. you’re mine. and i’ll do whatever it takes to keep you. whatever it takes.”

the words sent a chill down your spine, the cold, creeping dread settling over you like a heavy blanket. anton had crossed a line, had stepped into the darkness, and there was no going back. the game was over, and you had lost.

and in that moment, you realized just how dangerous obsession could be, just how easily it could consume and destroy. anton had been your pawn, your plaything, but now, he was something else, something darker, something that could destroy you both.

and there was no escape.

“anton,” you said, your voice trembling, your heart pounding in your chest. “this isn’t love. it’s madness.”

but he only smiled, a twisted, broken smile that sent a shiver down your spine, his grip on your arm like a vice, unrelenting and unforgiving.

“maybe,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “but it’s our madness.”

and in that moment, you knew that there was no going back, no escape from the darkness that had consumed you both. anton had become something else, something more dangerous, more terrifying, and there was no telling what he might do, what lengths he might go to, to keep you.

the snow continued to fall outside, the world outside the library quiet and still, as if holding its breath, waiting for the storm to break. and in the silence, you could hear the faint whisper of the wind, the crackling of the fire, and the pounding of your own heart, as you stood there, trapped in the darkness, with no way out.

and as the night closed in around you, you knew that this was only the beginning, the first step into a world of darkness and madness from which there would be no return. anton’s obsession had consumed him, and now, it would consume you both, dragging you down into the depths of despair, with no hope of escape.

and as you looked into anton’s eyes, those wild, desperate eyes that had once been so full of life, so full of promise, you knew that you had lost, that you had played your game too well, and now, you were paying the price.

the darkness had won.

[hakureimaiden-a]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

tagged by :   @devilhost tagging :     @bowofbenbulben @shikinamis @maeriiberii @kurosaint @defyloyalty + take it!!

APHRODITE:      laughter-loving.  sweet  smiles. dressed  in  silk  and  satin.  flower  in  their  hair.    sees  the  world  as  a  runway.    unapologetically  sexual.   the  sea  washing  their  ankles.  in  love  with  love.  stirrer  of  passion.  cunning  concealed  by  painted  lips.   secret  daggers.   doves.     revolution  in  their  kiss.     delighting  in  the  waves.    flirtatious  winks. strolling  along  the  beach.    staring  wistfully  from  a  balcony.  this  is  how  to  be  a  heartbreaker.    wants  to  be  adored. gets  turned  on  by  danger.

APOLLO:       glitz  and  glamour.     art  galleries.      turning  the  volume  up.     being  made  of  gold.     neatly-organized  music  sheets.     notebooks  filled  with  poetry.    bathing  in  the  sunlight.   the  powerful  urge  to  create.    collecting  vinyl  records.    beautiful  cover  of  wonderwall.     playing  multiple  instruments.     tasting  like  sunshine.    healing  touch. speaking  in  prophecies.    smile  mingled  with  wrath.    shunning  lies. sporting  shades. hanging  out  at  music  festivals  with  their  friends.    sleeps  naked. arrow  to  the  heart.   paint  brushes.     probably  has  a  tinder  account.

ARES: armed  for  battle.  wants  to  raise  a  dog  with  their  significant  other. soft  spot  for  children.     gives  piggyback  rides.   scarred  body.    blood  on  their   hands  and  face.   willing  to  fight  the  world  for  the  ones  they  love. fights  against  injustice.   warm  hugs.      well-worn  combat  boots.  boxing gloves.  bandages  wrapped  around  bruised  knuckles.  fist  raised  in  protest.     ignites  revolutions.   fear  is  a  prison.      more  sensitive  than  what  their  tough  shell  would  have  you  think.   exhausted.  damaged  goods.   force  to  be  reckoned  with.  red  roses.   curses  under  breath.

ARTEMIS:       keen  sense  of  a  hunter.       freckles  like  constellations  on  their  skin. piercing  eyes.    disheveled  braid.    moonlight  peeking  through  the  shadows.  the  calm  of  the  forest  at  night.      lying  on  the  grass  and  staring  at  the  stars.  mother  doe  and  her  fawn.      protecting  their  kin.   the  moon  shimmering  on  a  still  lake.      quiver  full  of  arrows  resting  against  the  bark  of  a  tree.     running  with  wolves.   bonding  while  circled  around  a  campfire.     not  being  much  of  a  people  person.    arrow  hitting  a  target.     popping  egos.     patience  on  3%.  touches  heaven  and  returns  howling.

ATHENA:     discerning  gaze.     unreadable  face.     quiet  museums.  owl  perched  on  their  finger.     armor  that  intimidates.     eye  for  architecture.     plays  the  sims  for  the  sole  purpose  of  building   houses.     studied  the  blade  while  everyone  else  was  busy  getting  laid.   big  fan  of  logic.     loves  brain  teasers.     ancient  buildings.     sweaters  in  neutrals  and  cool  colors.   hair  done  up.  can  kill  you  with  their  brain.  heads  to  the  library  often  to  research.   sharpened  pencils.   abs  that  can  cut  steel.   stoic  statues.     pottery classes.

DEMETER:      soil-covered  hands.   smile  that  can  bloom  flowers.     skin  loved  by  the  sun.    being  the  mom-friend. can  lift  you  and  your  friends.   flowers  kept  in  the  pockets  of  overalls.    takes  pride  in  their  beautiful  garden.    speaks  to  their  plants.       leaves  rustling  in  the  wind.     stalks  of  wheat.     picking  fruit.     greenhouses.   heart  as  strong  as  a  mountain.   values  simplicity.  daisies  dotted  across  a  collarbone. curls  crowned  with  flowers.     folded  pile  of  sweaters  in  warm  hues.  pulling  out  fresh-   baked  bread  out  of  the  oven  and  the  smell  wafting  through  the  air.

DIONYSUS:     drunk  shitposter.    on  their  sixth  glass  of  wine  before  you’ve  even  finished  your  second.   seductive  smirks.  untamed curls.  rich  fabrics  on  dark  skin.      sleek-furred  panthers.     theater  masks.    stage  productions.   receiving  a  standing  ovation.     rose  caught  between  their  teeth.     being  the  baby  of  the  bunch.     wild  parties  that  last  from  sundown  to  sunup. creeping  vines.     inspiring  loyalty.   grand  opera  houses.    masquerade  balls.     rolls  of  film.     shattered  chandeliers  with  broken glass  scattered  across  the  wine-spilled  floor.    pouring  champagne  into  flutes.    lives  for  the   applause.

HEPHAESTUS:   the  calloused  hands  of  someone  who  knows  labor.      sweaty  brow.     flame  burning  in  their  eyes.     inventive  mind.   broad  shoulders. steampunk  goggles.    nuts  and  bolts  stored  away  in  little  boxes.    ashes.    striking  a  match.     blueprints  for  future  projects.     fixing  up  a  busted  up  car  and  giving  it  cool  upgrades.        wrestles  with  bitterness.   work  boots  have  seen  better  years.    wrinkled  plaid  shirts.   iron  melted  in  blazing  fire.    huge  jackets.   crafting  masterpieces.   greased-    stained  overalls.    fascination  with  robotics.    pain  is  fuel.   stack  of  weaponry.  even   their  muscles  have  muscles.

HERA:       resting  bitch  face.     dressed  to  the  nines.  cows  grazing  on  a  pasture.    cool  rain.  loving  and  hating  fiercely.     hand  clutching  a  string  of  pearls.     large  chandelier  with  glittering  crystals.    plays  the  sims  for  the  sole  purpose  of  killing  off  their  sims.     romance  to  realism. pictures  of  the  sky  while  flying  on  a  plane.  files  that  under  fuck  it.    downs  glasses  of  wine  as  they  relax  with  a  scented  bubble  bath  and  netflix.   like  their  selfie  or  you’re  grounded.   knows  57  convenient  ways  to  murder  a  man.    dark  eyes  that  penetrate  your  soul.   marble  and  gold.

HERMES:     devil-may-care  smile.   always  up-to-date  on  the  latest  technology.   will  steal  your  french  fries.     does  it  for  the vine.   shitposter.     puts  googly  eyes  on  everything.    meme  hoarder.    long  drives  on  the  highway.   ma  and  pop  diners.   spontaneous  road  trips.   folded  maps.   fingers  dancing  across  the  keyboard  of  a  laptop.     shooting  hoops  on  the  basketball  court.    chatting  up  strangers  as  you  all  journey  to  your  own  destinations.  goes  jogging  in  the  morning.  mixes  redbull  with  coffee.   menace  on  april fool’s. hoodies  and  sneakers.  

POSEIDON:      storm  with  skin.  colorful  coral  reefs.    waves  crashing  against  the  shore.   stroking  the  soft  fur  of  a  cat.  their  heart  pounding  as  their  horse’s  gentle  trot  speeds  into  a  gallop.   tousled  locks.    clothes  smeared  with  paint.   owns  several  sketchbooks  yet  always  yearns  to  own  more.    leather  jackets.  fondness  for  diy  projects.   handwriting  that  flows  across  the  page. nimble  fingers  playing  the  strings  of  a  violin.    velvety  singing  voice  that  haunts  dreams.   mood  as  ever-changing  as  the  sea.   the  roar  of  a  motorcycle.  compass  with  a  spinning arrow.

ZEUS: thunder  in  their  heart.     running  on  coffee.     flash  of  lightning.   natural charisma.  eloquence. badass  in  a  nice  suit. aficionado  of  history.   force of nature.  lenny  face.   nightmare-filled  nights.  proud  arm  around  their  lover’s  waist. high-rise  buildings.   planes  soaring  through  a  cloudless  sky.     technician  on  the  piano.  maintains  order.   strong  handshake.   juggling  multiple  events  on  their  busy  schedule with  ease.  expensive watch.

[illegiblewords]

ILLEGIBLE’S TOTALLY SUBJECTIVE FAVORITE EORZEA COLLECTION DESIGNS: FEMALE

I’ve mentioned in the past, the main thing that made me start playing FFXIV properly was seeing people’s character designs. I’m still honestly blown away by the creativity and range of approaches people bring to this game, so I’ve decided to be an absolute madwoman and break my favorites into subcategories to share with anyone curious.

And to be clear. I’m not going to do something so broad as “oh top ten in-general :3″ because that would be sensible. No, I’m going to do it for all the current combat jobs. And all the current races. And different genders within the races and combat jobs as things stand. And I’m going to make a face-focus subcategory. And there are gonna be LOTS. Because I seriously cannot understate how inspired I’ve been by this community, and after however many years I just feel the need to vomit some incredible visuals I’ve encountered at you guys lol.

NOTE: In an abundance of caution, I want to stress this list isn’t a value judgment on anyone but a fragment of things that blew me personally away. Looking at the DRK sections it will be immediately clear that I Illegible really like that edgy dark knight aesthetic lmao, but there are plenty of non-edgy dark knights that I also love to bits. Other people might not like edgy dark knights. Due to a combination of size and search constraints plus trying to keep gear somewhat varied, these glamours are just what wound up on this particular list of mine. I could make another list one day. Other people can make lists too that are totally different.

Also, I was originally going to make a single post that went over male and female options presented in the character creator but straight up tumblr wouldn’t let me save because it got too big. You can see the male character post here.

Without further ado, let us begin.

COMBAT JOB GLAMOURS

PALADIN

- Sword Oath by Ariadne Lacroix

- Chevalier by Erin Arckanger

- Neo - Halone’s Sword by Goelia Sarantia

- Commander by Nya Nya

- Bellona - Goddess of War by Aurora Hearts

- Kirin by R'yo Aderyd

- In All Innocence by Lohia Aihol

- Pink Paladin Princess by Mepis Pheles

- Protector of the Creed by Kirin Anderfels

- Ivalician Spud Knight by Augwyn Usynthota 

WARRIOR

- Savage by Ihon Nuzhysa

- Bonk by Toasty Steambun

- Vinland Reaver by Tenpenny Tiffany

- Insurmountable by M'rhene Tia

- Cerberus by Lohia Aihol

- Freyja by Ihon Nuzhysa

- Warrior by Beso' Neko

- Fierce Red by Verona Lunich

- Regal Warrior by Sonora Swift

- KWEH!-rrior by Nitus Hyenborn

DARK KNIGHT

- Demon Knight by Ihon Nuzhysa 

- Demon DRK by Rosdy Mry

- Abyss by Vexa Crow

- Ritter by Miyu Fubuki

- Berserker princess by Allia Aenor

- Abaddon by Alma Sophia

- Furnace Knight by Tenpenny Tiffany

- Dark Divinity by Siren Sokute

- Absolution of Faith by Paragon Moon

- Druid DRK by Rosdy Mry

GUNBREAKER

- Flux by Flash Galathynius

- Ending SB by Una Veil

- Soldier E-075 by Ihon Nuzhysa

- Lost Allagan Future-Punk Knight by Nge Lik

- Neo - Wasteland Dust by Goelia Sarantia

- Blade’s Resolve by Erin Arckanger

- Sand Crawler by Sveta Raybrant

- Daring Gunbreaker by Radi Sativadi

- Bozjan Warfront by Keres Amiya

- Neo - Royal Guard by Goelia Sarantia

DRAGOON

- Leviathan’s Envoy by Ihon Nuzhysa

- Durium by Mihna Nhokiri

- Crimson Dragoon by Kotone Khatayin

- Heavenly Knight by Ciel Leblanc

- Gold Dragon Knight by Makenshi Dragonsbane

- Athena - The Goddess of War by Lohia Aihol

- Ryubi Warrior by Korkana Ryubi

- Native Warg by Schan Starfall

- Stranger from Across the Ruby Sea by Vederah Kilmister

- Onion Knight by Tess Tickle

SAMURAI

- Of Crimson Plumage by Cyrene Devana

- Crimson Wanderer by Sierra Delacroix

- Warmonger by Ethelin Aldren

- Yoroi of the Black Dragon by Mog Champ

- Cute war criminal by Nunui Nui

- Sirens Beckon by Adeline Grace

- Black Tide by Ihon Nuzhysa

- Kotetsu by Leisha Aysheen

- Neo - Universe’s Echo (SAM) by Goelia Sarantia

- Samurai Vagabond by Tranquil Rain

NINJA

- Midori no Ninja by Dezel Windriders

- Phtonos by R'yo Aderyd

- Neo - Flower Bowknot by Goelia Sarantia

- Church Assassin by Ien Torr

- Little Bat by Messenger Pigeon

- Birdkeep by Nya Nya

- Astrological Sign - Taurus by Leisha Aysheen

- The Nothing by Vederah Kilmister

- The Trickster by Little Toussaint

- Bloodborne-inspired Rogue by Valentyne Louvier

MONK

- Night Walker by Madoras Yorigami

- Elegant Scavenger by Mia Fletcher

- Wild Rose by Ihon Nuzhysa

- YAOI HANDS FROM HELL by Cool Mom

- Astrological Sign - Cancer by Leisha Aysheen

- Neo - Fist of Suzaku by Goelia Sarantia

- Sting Like A Bee by Arsibra Therion

- Orochi no Kaze by Liesel Mahora

- Heavensent by Ren Sakurai

- The Burn’s Wraith by Arsibra Therion

BARD

- Cherry March by Toasty Steambun

- Scarlet Vagabond by Rena Nox

- Suzaku’s Champion by Kotomi Krios

- Serpent Elite Hunter by Vesper Amaris

- Rathian by Nya Nya

- Obsolete Ribbon Bard by Karielle Davva

- Ronkan The Huntress by Raven Ashfell

- Peacock Elegance by Lohia Aihol

- Purple Rain by Franya Mohali

- Aoidos by Miyu Fubuki

DANCER

- Sidereal Goddess by Leisha Aysheen

- Crepuscule by Lohia Aihol

- Loving Blue Dancer by Kaisa Miyahara

- The First Ride by Kirin Anderfels

- Armored Bladedancer by Flower Blossom

- Masked Dancer by Aoi Umi

- Dancer of the Flame by Lohia Aihol

- Apothecary by Leisha Aysheen

- From sands to ashes by R'yo Aderyd

- The Monkey King by Stole Your'cat

MACHINIST

- Skysteel Valentine by Pastel Alerion

- Artic War by Ihon Nuzhysa

- Allied Officer by Mihri Ninaka

- Neo - doomsday by Goelia Sarantia

- bang bang shoot by Vegetable Juice

- Infiltrator: Lancehead and Gunmetal by Flash Galathynius

- Ruby Engineer by Lys Aludra

- GOBBIE BOOM! by Loki- Kun

- Wanderer: Dirt and Grit by Flash Galathynius

- Mysterious Stranger by Paragon Moon

BLACK MAGE

- Taker of Souls by Cassiopeia Fauconnoix

- Ruby Moon by Dezel Windriders

- The Dark Illusionist by The Fashionista

- Ferryman by Ien Torr

- Wayward Temptress by Atsinquela Athenruse

- Cybinki by Binki Bowie

- Wicked Wolf by Binki Bowie

- Black Mage by Fuu Min

- Neo - Demon Caller by Goelia Sarantia

- Paglth’an Black Mage by Erin Arckanger

SUMMONER

- Egyptian chocolate by Graceful Khamseen

- Summoner Goddess by Noire Faye

- Broken Nobility by Ylynna Aethis

- Black Bishop by Rosdy Mry

- Caller by Nya Nya

- Cute Magical Assistant by Lohia Aihol

- The Magus’ Apprentice by Pastel Alerion

- Oracle by Vesper Amaris

- Bismark by Lohia Aihol

- Siren Call by Atsinquela Athenruse

RED MAGE

- Aristocratic Intellectual by Vederah Kilmister

- Neo - Top Student by Goelia Sarantia

- Diligent Musketeer by Nitus Hyenborn

- Battle Bride by Rena Adyrin

- Neo - Golden Dance by Goelia Sarantia

- Elegant Musketeer by Yoko Okoy

- Meadow Musketeer by K'uro Hana

- Bozjan Duelist by Livia Illia

- Battlemage by Sagume Kishin

- Ruby Mage by Cyane Monis

- Caster of a Thousand Steps by Burning Heart

WHITE MAGE

- Shadowless Healer by Vinilite Beoulve

- Gridanian Medic by Luna Ariana

- Sands of Time by Ihon Nuzhysa

- Fae Healer by Amaya Nakamura

- Legacy by Larisse Larassier

- Neo - Silence Demon by Goelia Sarantia

- Vampire Chronicles by Ihon Nuzhysa

- Neo - Theresia by Goelia Sarantia

- Mechanic Heart by Ashia Luin

- Greatwood Druidess by Isilian Volantia

SCHOLAR

- Neo - Steam:Dream by Goelia Sarantia

- Timekeeper by Lohia Aihol

- Scholarly Grace by Joyce Blythe

- Neo - Checkmate by Goelia Sarantia

- Neo - Admiral by Goelia Sarantia

- Curator of the Great Library by Vederah Kilmister

- Fae Scholar by Miyu Fubuki

- Sharlayan Schooler by Lia Tales

- Druidic Knowledge by K'uro Hana

- Fairy Tales by Luma Rose

ASTROLOGIAN

- Sharay by Leisha Aysheen

- Oracle by Xiah Bajihri

- Ice Sight by Juicy Beefcake

- Winter Vibes by Verona Lunich

- Soothsayer by Nya Nya

- Goddess with a thousand jewels by Eji Ka

- Astrological Sign - Geminis by Leisha Aysheen

- Dark Astrologian by Zabine Fortemps

- Neo - Aromatherapy by Goelia Sarantia

- Cosmo Astrology by Katie Kox

BLUE MAGE

- I’m Just A Fool by Lohia Aihol

- azure by Persephone Athanasios

- Cute and Blue by Lia Tales

- Sapphire by Hana Rose

- No title by Goelia Sarantia

GLAMOUR SPILLOVER

HYUR MIDLANDER

- Skydruid by Dezel Windriders

- Shield of the Light by Ezelion Rykana

- Drachen by Nya Nya

- Jade Dragon by Ophelia Au'rel

- Faerie King by Naleia To

- Villainous Stride: Stalwart by Celer Acedius

- Souls Legacy by Ihon Nuzhysa

- forgiven impunity by Persephone Athanasios

- wanderer by Persephone Athanasios

- Off With Their Heads! by Binki Bowie

FAVORITE MODELS:

- Faerie King by Naleia To

- Makai Elemental Guide by Shard Nuphar

- Shield of the Light by Ezelion Rykana

- Discount Red Mage by Bb Channel

- Off With Their Heads! by Binki Bowie

HYUR HIGHLANDER

- Tequila Sunrise by Kirin Anderfels

- Flame Kissed Soother by Karielle Davva

- Dancer of Ala Mhigo by Tenpenny Tiffany

- Vampire Hunter by Dezel Windriders

- The Red Princess by Asra Ashryver

- Black Hare by Lominn Lomi 

- Overseer by Ien Torr

- Falcon of Light by Tess Tickle

- Waiting in the Shire by Tess Tickle

- Alexandrian Ninja by Tranquil Rain

FAVORITE MODELS:

- Warmonger by Ethelin Aldren

- Bozjan Warfront by Keres Amiya

- The Red Princess by Asra Ashryver

- Black Hare by Lominn Lomi

- Vampire Hunter by Dezel Windriders

ELEZEN

- Alexandrian Huntress by Louise Aquitaine

- The Forgotten Knight by Nova Kie

- Halone’s Royal Guard by Isilian Volantia

- Theatrics by Giomeo Wind

- Aeolian Tempest by Ariadne Lacroix

- East Hingashi Company Admiral by Louise Aquitaine

- Death’s Embrace by Ophelia Au'rel

- Seeing Leadwitch by Flash Galathynius

- The Golden Dahlia by Yurina Dia-oerb

- Wings of Fate by Louise Aquitaine

FAVORITE MODELS:

- Theatrics by Giomeo Wind

- Vinland Reaver by Tenpenny Tiffany

- Legacy by Larisse Larassier

- Eorzean Army Lady by Dezel Windriders

- Wandering Weaponmaster by Ariadne Lacroix

LALAFELL

- Winter Doll by Lohia Aihol

- Pistachio Colored Velveteen by Corrigible Argyros

- Flippant Eulmoran by Vederah Kilmister

- Priestess of the East by Liesel Mahora

- Samurai of Darkness by MsYue

- Lominsan Guardian by Mizora Saphira

- Valerian Hunter by Ashia Luin

- Wolf Warrior by Lalatua Ul'tua

- Breath of the Wildwood by Vederah Kilmister

- Fields Little Demoness by Liesel Mahora

FAVORITE MODELS:

- Cute war criminal by Nunui Nui

- Fierce Red by Verona Lunich

- Priestess of the East by Liesel Mahora

- Winter Doll by Lohia Aihol

- Pistachio Colored Velveteen by

MIQO’TE

- Mercantile Machinist by Nadya Lesrekta

- Western Ninja by San Kyu

- Astrologian Noble by Amira Lynn

- Gemmaster's Collection - ft. body piece by Sonora Swift

- Meiyo by Lohia Aihol

- Bozjan Thief by Specter Saruu

- Lavender Knight by Lohia Aihol

- Lycan by Aya Mihaal

- Desert Mirage by Lohia Aihol

- Aloe Vera by Lyn Saikuma

FAVORITE MODELS:

- Lycan by Aya Mihaal

- Mercantile Machinist by Nadya Lesrekta

- bang bang shoot by Vegetable Juice

- Dancer of the Flame by Lohia Aihol

- Bozjan Thief by Specter Saruu

ROEGADYN

- Blonde Ale by Kirin Anderfels

- Edenchoir Holy Knight by Marien Fury

- Dark Fae by Sahl Suh

- Thaliak’s Maiden by R'yo Aderyd

- Paladin II by Fuu Min

- Electric Princess by Anais Silverclaw

- My my, such unruly guests! by Sarafina Vadrel

- The Regal Magister by Rohariel Hellwitch

- Green Riding Hood by Tranquil Rain

- Assassin of the sands by Graceful Khamseen

FAVORITE MODELS:

- From sands to ashes by R'yo Aderyd

- Ice Sight by Juicy Beefcake

- Blonde Ale by Kirin Anderfels

- Dust and Shadows by Sarafina Vadrel

- Egyptian chocolate by Graceful Khamseen

AU RA

- Astrological Sign - Pisces by Leisha Aysheen

- Edenmorn by Kyary Valentine

- Amaranthine by Atsinquela Athenruse

- Garlean Warlord by Teresa Stormhand

- Wandering Priestess by Toasty Steambun

- Queen of the South by Leisha Aysheen

- Baphomet by Madoras

- Lone Wonderer by Bright Dancer

- Druid by Leisha Aysheen

- Dreadnaught Viking by Ormr Kishna 

FAVORITE MODELS:

- Midori no Ninja by Dezel Windriders

- Garlean Warlord by Teresa Stormhand

- Dreadnaught Viking by by Ormr Kishna

- Demon Knight by Ihon Nuzhysa 

- Ivalician Oni by Leisha Aysheen

VIERA

- Yanxian Rounin by Siddh Brumedecendre

- Wealthy Merchant by San Tokki

- Desert Dancer by Erzulie One

- Dark Knight Guard by Valentyne Louvier

- Sands of Amber by Erzulie One

- Worthy Sacrifice by Erzulie One

- Lilac Wicca by Clodagh Lunaria

- Royal Musketeer by Ashia Luin

- Violet Tides by Siddh Brumedecendre

- Street Style by Yoko Okoy

FAVORITE MODELS:

- Rathian by Nya Nya

- Explorer by Yliana Oria

- Paglth’an Princess by Ximena Reign

- Cosmo Astrology by Katie Kox

- Desert Dancer by Erzulie One

[talesofsonicasura]

Wonderful Hunter

Chapter 1: Awakening

Life was very odd when it came to the future. Sometimes souls are brought together in the most extreme circumstances...in a bang. Warning: Description of graphic injuries and swearing! Rating Estimate: Teen

I never wanted to be a hunter. Ever since I was little, there was a desire in me to perform. Dance on the stage to my own melody, to bring awe and in wonder for others to witness. A dream that I never had a chance to grab.

To perform in little free time, what wasn't taken by vigorous unwanted training. Nearly every piece of money made to buy materials with the purpose of crafting costumes was placed for ointment to mend any injury or ailment. A toy soldier who wished to no longer have a winding key.

Who would've thought that day where the key had broken was the day I died?

"What the hell did you do?!" The soft whir of electricity echoed through the void in a massive blur of distortion. Voices clear for all to hear but so jumbled that a possible identification of even a gender was impossible. Under all that chaos was a quiet heartbeat. "The machine is overloading! Everyone evacuate immediately!"

That soft whir grew into a high pitched whine as a formed cacophony alongside the harsh thuds from thousands of stomping feet. "___?! No, come back it's too dangerous! Leave that mongrel behind!" Growls of pain and concern from some unknown animal blend together with the crackle of electricity.

An explosion of bright white and velvet purple burst throughout the void with that heartbeat going silent and a small voice hidden amongst it all. Despite the darkness filling the abyss, sensations of phantom pain, muffled voices full of concern, and hands across the skin, that one voice overrides them all.

"We had a good run, pal. Misfits always stick together, ____."

Bright red eyes opened with a harsh start, their owner fully aware of the unfamiliar dimly lit room around them. These confused ruby orbs belonged to a young man around his mid 20s, and almost nude except for the black boxer briefs. Wild cherry blossom pink hair that ends halfway down the man's back, soft peach tan skin, 6'8 tall body sculpted with lithe but powerful muscle and covered in various scars.

Some of these healed wounds were mild such as scratches, bite marks, punctures but there were extreme ones from burns whether it be acid, electric or fire, 2 in deep lacerations to even a large bite mark on the jugular of his neck. Part of the man's body such as his chest and arms were covered in fresh gauze bandages paired with a crude makeshift splint on the right arm.

Raising an eyebrow, the young man removed the bandages whilst breaking the splint with a harsh pull before he took in his surroundings. The room seemed to belong to someone with a rich background from the decor alone. Pastel blue walls lined with beautiful expertly painted portraits, furnished dark oak dressers, a large vanity, double king sized bed complete with silk sheets, pillows, and hard oak frame, large oak wardrobe and three separate doors.

If anything, this made the man feel very out of place. He did catch what looked to be a pair of clothes folded by a table near him, a note on top of the stack. The pinkette delicately got out of the large bed and walked over to the table. 'Dear guest, sorry if I had to leave you a bit underdressed but your wounds needed to be addressed. Hope these would suit you until your wounds finally finish healing. The discussion about the armor would be a later dealing. Sincerely, Maestro of Wonderworld Theatre, Balan."

The man couldn't help the snort or raised eyebrow from the rhyme scheme of the note. His caretaker had left a plain white shirt and long black pants, the material being silk from spiders by the feel of it. Placing the clothes on, he noticed it was a perfect fit suspiciously as it wasn't too tight or loose.

Upon leaving the room, the young man fully understood where he was. It seemed to be a theatre, well, if a theatre was mixed with the dimensional size of a small mansion and aesthetics of a castle. The grand small staircases, rafters above a tall ceiling, fancy torches hanging through a few corridors and the various posters of different shows being some evidence.

As the pinkette walked down the halls, he couldn't ignore the feeling that he was either being watched or led somewhere. The corridors felt wrong, almost if the walls were alive and shuffling each other. He also can't forget the sensation of invisible eyes on his lone form. Whatever the case, the sound of someone talking or to be precise, two people grew louder.

"You are not touching my guest, Lance. Even if the man is odd, I will still hold a defensive stance./ That human isn't normal. Something you would easily notice if you drop being formal. Injuries on his flesh were those that can kill any human. You aren't blind to that weapon and armor made from materials that aren't of man."

Both voices were definitely male in tone and their owners' clearly arguing. The first voice was deep and had a texture similar to smooth chocolate, a type of sweetness paired with charisma. The second voice was softer just as it was light in pitch, however there was hidden animosity to the calm yet alluring tone, a siren luring their delusional prey.

All of it was coming behind a slightly opened door, perfect to peek through or eavesdrop. Quietly the pinkette tiptoed over to the oak frame, ruby eyes looking into the room on the other side. This particular door led to what appeared to be a bar from the kegs put on the side of the bar stand and the various liquor bottles stacked on the shelves behind it.

Sitting at a table adjacent to each other were two humanoids, both being significantly different from the other. The only traits these two oddities shared were their tall 10 maybe 11 ft tall forms, peculiarly thin waists, tendril-like hair, performer attire, spindly arms and spindly legs. Other than that, they could be considered Yin and Yang or opposites.

The one on the left had soft jellyfish-like pastel green hair similar to dreadlocks, pitch black skin, a large perpetual toothy smile, and amber yellow eyes that peered through his hat. A sparkling white hat bearing a red ribbon which acted like a mask for those odd eyes, red cravat, long sleeved short white coat with gold elegant rims, a black tuxedo vest, short red cape alongside fancy white gloves, long glittering white pants that were ruby red past the thigh with gold rims on the bottom, and white pointed shoes.

His opposed companion looked more human except for some glaring details. Deathly pale skin highlight by soft dark violet, long elven ears, blue eyes bearing slit pupils that dwelled in yellow iris, sharp clawed fingers, and long black tendrils with elegant markings in various colors such as green, pink, blue and yellow that sprung from the man's back but was also his hair.

A pitch black bodysuit with gold rims, torn long sleeved short violet cloak bearing elegant gold embroidery for a top, white mask shaped pauldrons on his bony hips and gold toed shoes made for nasty kicks. Wine glasses sat between these two eldritch like entities.

"Dragging others into darkness might be your role, but this one isn't taking a more grizzly toll. He is also greatly injured and like you said could've been dead if I didn't help instead." Spoke the top hatted male, that deep velvet voice belonging to him. It also meant that the darker counterpart had to be Lance from what the pinkette heard outside.

The young man scanned the room, ruby eyes looking for anything familiar to him. His focus immediately sharpened on the glint of darkish violet poking from a large wooden crate, belonging stripped off the pinkette. Carefully and quietly, the man opened the door then slipped inside.

He stuck close to the floor and moved about as the two slender giants were focused on their conversation. It was almost comical how the young man traveled on his hands and feet like a predatory cat, stealthily approaching the target without a sound.

The pinkette was about to reach for the box when the unexpected happened. The door he went through had slammed itself shut with a loud thud, both giants immediately pulled out of their conversation and watched as the chairs parted away from each other. An act that put the stunned human on full display, a deer in the headlights or hand in the cookie jar situation.

No one moved as it was a silent staredown, neither were expecting the chairs or door to come to life like that. It was the man who immediately broke out of his stupor first, the pinkette sidekicking the crate. The box shook as an object was flung out of it by the harsh force, a gun.

It was a double barrel shotgun that was an inky sinister violet in color, the barrels were that same violet but lightened to a red color by the end, the handle of the gun mimicked a dark violet scabbard bearing tannish gold spiral patterns on the side, bone like caparace similar to a segmented blade lined the bottom of the gun barrel and held the trigger within a bone like cage.

With very fluid movements, the pinkette grabbed the descending gun from the air by the handle and spun it until he was holding the trigger whilst the barrel was aimed at the two taller entities. Sapphire and amber could see the subtle cautious fear hidden in those steeled ruby orbs.

"Who the hell are you? And where am I?" The pinkette's voice was slightly rugged, fire within the husky baritone, and a bit of a growl in the pitch. You could hear how deadly serious the human male was at the moment from his voice alone. Lance and his unnamed companion carefully put their hands in the air, sudden movements would only spook the pinkette further.

"There is nothing to fear, you are completely safe here! Please put the gun down, such an item used in a theatre is a huge frown!" Even that giant smile remained despite the slight twitches that showed the top hatted male's nervousness, well, that plus the beads of sweat and now dot sized pupils.

Lance merely raised an eyebrow at the weapon. "You do know it is rude to destroy those bandages you were given? Balan had some difficulty but his will to help you was focused and driven." Those words made the pinkette lower his weapon but not drop it.

He contemplated the words then thought back to the note. Whatever conclusion that came to mind was enough for the smaller man to put the gun down on the table, something that eased the room's occupants. "That means you're Balan? Fucking hell. What the hell happened to me?" The pinkette questioned as he went to sit on the floor only for a chair to move in place instead.

An action that made the human jump back in shock, nearly kicking the chair. "Bloody hell! My day has already been Congalala shit so I really don't need all these magical shenanigans! Please tell me you have some liquor to spare." Balan and Lance could only look at each other completely aware of a very odd explanation.

Not even 5 minutes later, the pink haired man had down half a bottle of wine as he now sat with the taller odd men in the room. Massaging his head, the mortal man finally spoke up. "So I am in a magical sentient theatre that serves as a gateway to someone's heart. You two, mainly Balan, are tasked to use that magic to bring balance to anyone whose heart is out of place upon entering. Nearly godlike beings who performed this task for over 3000 years?"

The top hatted Maestro nodded his head in agreement while Lance took another swig of his wine glass. Both of them ignored the pinkette swearing under his breath, the guy was having a bad day so it was normal. Although none of them could deny that this particular person was anything normal at all.

"Alright. My name is Val'tah, Val'tah Choso and I'm a Monster Hunter." Val'tah quickly raised his hand up before Balan and Lance almost immediately shot out of their seats. "Whoa! Not that kind of hunter for Namielle's sake so don't have your knickers in a bunch. Do any of you have a pen and paper?"

Magically upon request, the mint green haired performer took out a pen and notepad from behind his cravat. Rolling his eyes, the hunter took the items and began to draw something on the paper. Val'tah then placed it on the table for both Maestros to see.

It was a sketch of what looked like a dragon made completely from stone. Stony humps that grew bits of moss protruding from the back, a tail that looked like large pebbles strung together, even flat wings to a wide meteor shaped body and narrowed rhinoceros-like face. "That is a Basarios, a Monster or species of monster."

Lance and Balan looked at the picture with curiosity. It definitely explained why the man had that sort of weapon or armor. "Hunters are sort of like mercenary peacekeepers. Whenever a monster starts a huge ruckus or someone has a job in monster infested territory, we get called to do it."

Taking a swig from the wine bottle, much to Balan's distaste, Val'tah continued. "We don't have to slay targets such as the Basarios if we want to. A Hunter has permission to capture and relocate any large monster to a better habitat, something that I usually do. Where I'm from, it's our duty to keep the balance of not only the ecosystem but between human and monster kind."

A hum of acknowledgment rumbled from Lance's throat, it was almost comical in a sense. Normal hunters have various goals in mind when it comes to hunting: glory or survival. This was the first time hearing about ones who bring balance amongst more dangerous fauna and humans. How very ironic.

"Very interesting, to imagine there is a world beyond the realm of our understanding. There is still a question, how did you end up in our sacred bastion?" Balan's question rang through Val'tah's head alongside a bit of pain. Memories flashing through the pinkette's mind as a look of solemn horror crossed his face.

"I'm remembering it now. I was assigned to an expedition to investigate some odd ruins located near Wyvern's End, a den of a very dangerous monster. Those ruins were actually a machine that accidentally turned on and… I think I was caught in an explosion. Dear Namielle, I think I died."

Silence washed over the room, it was so deafening that a pin drop could be considered a bomb going off. Balan's perpetual smile dropped into a neutral frown, horror crossing his eyes upon the hunter's visage earlier. Severe burns on the unprotected skin and his arm in a very unnatural angle...Wait.

Any other chance to say anything was stopped when a look of abstract terror and grief burned within Val'tah's eyes. "No…! Buena was with me. She must have got caught in the blast too! Where's Buena?!" The pinkette shot out of his chair, the piece of furniture hitting the floor with a loud thud.

Neither Lance or Balan could grab the hunter before he ran for the door, the hard oak opening into a gray expanse of rocky terrain than the actual hallway. Not that the change deterred the hunter as Val'tah ran in but surely took the two Maestros by surprise.

"The theatre opened its doors to a new world never seen before! Could this be the hunter's trauma born from his core or is it something more?" Balan was quick to pick out the growing intrigue within his darker counterpart's words. There was more going on with Val'tah but they couldn't figure it out without finding the man.

Both Maestros quickly ran through those doors to catch up with the hunter and his questionable head start. It appeared that the gray expanse was actually the part of a larger mountain, a steppe to be more accurate. Thick deciduous forests could be made out past some of the gray rocky cliffs other than the one the door led them there, vast yellow fields of grass and very rough uneven terrain laid alongside unknown fauna than just plants.

Or the terrifying large nest made from various sticks, broken logs, ivy, bones of different creatures; humans included, and large egg shell remains of whatever species made it. The only indication that this world was made by Val'tah's heart were the small floating islands and giant airborne accessories or props.

Ribbons woven through part of the forest, a showman's cane that hung by the cliff leading down to the grassy plain, masks hanging across the stone walls, and instruments disguised as plants or rocks playing beautiful music bearing a tribal origin by the beating drums, whistling flutes and sitar strings being strung.

"How very odd and peculiar. This place must be spawned from a memory very familiar. It will be harder to avoid any wrong, when the aura of this world is heavily strong." Balan spoke wearily, a feeling that they were being watched prickle the fuzz on his skin. There was also the strong sensation about splitting up being a very bad idea.

Using the cane to slide down to the forest below helped give both theatre dwellers a quick glimpse of the surrounding areas before they hit the ground. For a split second, Lance swore he saw something large moved through the trees. Whatever it was, it was too big to be Val'tah or any of his familiars.

Both Maestros landed on a reddish clay ridge, small ledges to an almost natural stone bridge connected the large ditch at the center, a small stream of water passing down the middle, various large mushrooms and beehives leaking honey from multiple branches. Or that they weren't exactly alone.

Grazing about the area were deer, their pelts were a dark green speckled by white dots that overlapped a soft peach underbelly, large grayish silver antlers for the males whilst the females had short black horns and azure eyes that stared at the duo. Some of the deer continued to munch on the flora while the others kept a wary gaze on Balan and Lance.

"Definitely inhabitants of Wonderworld but not quite. I think these deer were crafted by Val'tah's memories that hold powerful might." If these animals shared similar traits to their earthly counterparts, the Dark Maestro knew they were relatively harmless unless provoked.

Another thought then immediately crossed Balan's mind. "If these creatures are here, then we might have more to fear. These deer are prey…" Suddenly the various green pelted beasts rose their heads up, ears twitching as if they caught something the other two hadn't.

"Wouldn't a predator cause dismay?" The top hat wearing man really didn't like where things were going as the large herd began to scatter immediately when the sound of heavy thuds could be heard. One deer was running for the bridge, the thuds stopped and both Maestros only had time to blink when something large and purple snatched the scared fawn off the stone ground.

"Holy shit." Balan would've scolded Lance for foul language if they didn't have a bigger problem on their hands. The body of the snatched deer hung limply from the jaws of a giant purple monster. A 69 ft hulking dark violet draconic tiger, its body mostly covered in violet and yellow edged plates of caparace like armor bearing a ruby red underbelly, a short tigerine snout that held large sharp teeth and two large tusks at the ends of the mouth, giant jagged yellow horns that mimicked those on the helms of samurai which also covered long thin ears or the burning azure eyes.

Both front and back legs held four digit paws carrying razor sharp claws or what looked to be long yellow spikes on the forelegs, and the large reptilian tail that ended with a three pointed Spade spear. Balan and Lance watch the deer disappear into the beast's mouth, minced to pieces down its gullet and the feline smiled with blood tinted fangs.

Or that the draconic tiger let out a threatening roar right at the duo as bright blue fire burst from the edges of its mouth like a miasma. They barely had the chance to jump out of the way when the giant beast bounced at the two, sharp claws shredding through the dirt as if it were paper.

"This is a beast we'll have to fight or neither of us will come out alright!" Violence wasn't something Balan often indulged in but he knew there were times that he had no choice. Facing his hands forth, small spheres of yellow energy manifested on the maestro's fingertips before tossing them in the form of arrows.

With a wag of its tail, the draconic tiger brought forth burning blue will o' wisps and launched it back with a tail swipe. Both volleys of energy exploded into fireworks of their respective color, the armored beast leaping through the smoke with claws alight in blue fire.

Lance quickly dove under the beast while Balan flew over to the left side, the Dark Maestro flared out the tendrils on his back then slammed into the beast's unprotected belly alongside a vicious uppercut. The violet tiger felt the pain but took the opportunity to release a thin burst of glittering blue powder from its body before being launched into the air by Lance's attack.

Whatever the blue powder was irritated the raven haired male, the sensation being a mixture of itchy powder and bubbling hot grease. "Lance, look out!" Balan's shout made him look up at the airborne beast, the spade of its tail had opened into a trident as it swung the limb through the air.

The momentum being enough to correct the beast's position and trajectory so it could dive-bomb the Dark Maestro like a burning blue meteor. Neither of them expected for that particular powder to ignite upon contact as Balan watched his dark counterpart get flying by an azure explosion from his own body.

Creating a larger blast of yellow energy, the hat wearing man threw it at the violet tiger before heading over to his fallen ally. It let out a howl of annoyance upon the projectiles not only striking it's face but burst into a thick mustard smokescreen that made the feline gag.

Lance laid slanted by the tree he had hit, burn marks sprinkled over parts of his skin and clothing was singed too. "You okay, Lance?! This beast has more frightening power than just a ferocious stance!" Balan spoke, carefully helping his counterpart off the ground.

The movement made the elven male let out a mild hiss before shaking the greenette's hand off him. "As much as I like seeing you frown, this beast needs to be taken down. Balan, watch out for any powder from the skin of the hide, you'll lose more than just your pride."

Sharp claws of the draconic tiger swept away the hatted maestro's smokescreen. Bright blue fire burning burst the open jaws, the feline was absolutely pissed as even more azure fire spewed from the legs and tail or that the yellow ridges on the back and forelegs were now giant blades. It let out a furious roar forcing Balan and Lance to prepare for another attack.

That was until the entire world became silent, all of the instruments had oddly stopped playing. It was quiet until the sound of shamisen strings being plucked filled the still air with an orchestra of intimidating brass to follow in its wake. Sinister sounding melodies of violins and shinobue flutes were met with someone walking out from the brush.

It was Val'tah, a violet mask resembling the tiger donned on his face alongside dark violet coat with golden fur sleeves, dark violet hakama trousers decorated in elegant gold patterns reminiscent of fire and swords, two fake tails similar to the violet beast sewn on the back and without any shoes, only barefooted.

Balan and Lance stood speechless as the pinkette did something neither of them expected. The hunter had begun to dance in a style similar to those done by kabuki actors. His arms glided through the air, bits of glittering violet powder produced from the sleeves creating streaks in the air with an appearance mimicking purple misty fire.

Val'tah stomped his foot to the ground to spread out the mist like powder around him, the man spun into a short pirouette so he could stop in the Dragon Stance found in martial arts. It was like the hunter was manipulating magic to flow with his elegant and entrancing dance.

The sinister orchestra went perfectly with Val'tah's movements. Beating of hand drums, male chants with an ominous tone, shinobue flutes paired alongside the plucks of the shamisen and strung chords of the violin told a story on its own. A ritual performance of omens and cautionary tribulations.

Balan and Lance couldn't look away, neither could the beast who appeared to be calming down. The long yellow caparace blades lower themselves back into thin ridges, the trident tip of the tail collapses into its spade form and the eerie blue fire burning around the beast sputters out. Bright blue in its eyes dimming into a soft mellow teal.

Val'tah spun on the ball of his feet before transitioning into an aerial kick. The pinkette then used the momentum of the kick to position himself so he could bring down his arm in for a slash. He landed on the ground in a predatory stance, nails of his right hand dug into the soil, feet spread apart with knees bent for a crouch, left arm held out behind the man and the tiger mask facing the spectators.

The hunter then twirled himself into a backflip, all for the purpose of landing on his feet with his arms held and hands pressed together while the fingers were positioned to mimic fangs. Val'tah pulled his arms apart and let out a loud beastly roar with the final loud beats of the drum, the draconic tiger letting out its own roar in unison.

The pinkette took off his mask once the music returned to its more peaceful counterpart. "Glad I made it in time or Buena would've torn you to pieces. Luckily the Sonata of Omens can be played here or I would've been forced to do an acapella." Balan nearly choked upon the words Val'tah just said.

The giant hellish tiger that spews blue explosive fire was the hunter's friend?! Something Lance couldn't help but state the inquiry out loud. "You telling us the beast that nearly had us ravaged, is your companion that you ran off to scavenged?!"

Val'tah sheepishly scratched his head and let out a soft chuckle. The beast or Buena groomed their paws as if nothing happened. "She is a Magnamalo and they tend to be... tenacious predators. Buena is unique since she's friendlier than the regular 'malo, at least to me and any friend of mine."

Balan had a feeling there was more to this odd bond than just a story but… "At least your missing friend has been found, even if she treated us like a steak for a pound. Best to return back to the theatre, Lance got burnt bruises that need gauze by the meter." The top hatted Maestro then clapped his hands together as a giant door formed behind him.

It was big enough for the large Magnamalo to go through without any hindrance. Val'tah had a feeling there was going to be more magical convenience when it came to this odd theatre than just the taller duo living inside and a magical replica of the ritual clothing for the Sonata of Omens. Something to think about when he tries to figure out their situation.

And that's it! Yes this is a crossover between Balan Wonderworld and Monster Hunter but also my first Balan fic too! If you guys don't know, Balan Wonderworld is one of the games I've recently got and wholeheartedly. Sure it had problems but it was a delightful experience throughout my entire playthrough.

If you do decide to get the game, wait until it goes on sale. The full price isn't really suited considering the huge controversy involving it's development.

Our two star characters of this fic are an unlikely pair.

'The Hunter Who Wished To Dance' and owner of the mysterious 13th Door in Wonderworld: Val'tah Choso. A Monster Hunter who strived to become a performer but forsaken the goal partly for his ward, Buena.

Buena is a subspecies of Magnamalo called Will-O-Wisp Magnamalo. They expel blue fire often mistaken for spirit orbs and can engulf their body in an armor of azure fire for offensive defense. Only the Sonata of Omens, a mysterious ritualistic dance can calm a rampaging Magnamalo.

Until next time folks! I'll see you back in Wonderworld.

[biirthofvenus]

signs as aesthetics

aquarius. smell of chlorine, freshly mowed grass, potted plants, fairy lights, laying in clean sheets listening to soft songs, polaroid pictures taped to your wall, morning dew, potted plants on your windowsill, breathless laughter

pisces. messy hair, cityscapes, ukulele covers of your favorite songs, watercolor paints, toes dipping in the ocean waves, freshly brewed coffee, daydreaming on a picnic, books of poems, old souls

aries. smell of leather and smoke, red lipstick, mischievous grins, the vibrations of a song in your chest, late nights with friends, devil horns on halloween night, the burn of a sunset

taurus. baked goods, matching sweaters, cuddling underneath thousands of blankets, crisp fall air, lavender candles, cherry blossoms floating in the breeze, writing in a diary, flower crowns

gemini. fishnets, ripped jeans, wandering an art museum with friends, stolen kisses, laughing till your belly aches, dancing late into the night, existential thoughts, the beginning of a thunderstorm

cancer. full moons, freckles from sunshine, making moody spotify playlists, frappuccinos, a first kiss, pink cheeks when the frost comes in, a sunrise still in bed, twinkling laughter, movie tickets, dancing in a pair of fluffy socks

leo. gold jewels, a fast heartbeat in your chest, amusement parks, diving into a lake, ice cold lemonade on a hot summer day, broad grins, bright eyes, fireworks, catching lightening bugs

virgo. piggytails, driving in a car with no destination, bare feet in hot sand, floral patterns, candy necklaces, fresh fruit at farmers markets, writing letters, ink stained hands, crackle of a new vinyl

libra. flirty smiles, ice cream at the fair, impressionism, venus in the night sky, stardust, angel wings, singing along on the radio, embracing your inner child, sleepovers, indie music at 3 a.m

scorpio. midnight talks, black jeans, overcast days, foggy mornings, whispering secrets to close friends, tarot cards, burnt s’mores on a campfire, dark lipstick, hidden smiles, bunches of red roses

sagittarius. old movies, a plane ticket to a new country, neon signs, a deck of old cards, a cool breeze on a warm day, head in the clouds, gridded paper, smudged eyes, dreaming of a better tomorrow

capricorn. bullet journals, spearmint gum, growing a garden, getting up to watch the sunrise, huge smiles, bookmarks in a worn novel, shaved legs, flowing summer dresses, the smell of cinnamon, strawberry kisses

[onsometime]

By Hoai-Tran Bui

The first thing you notice about Blade Runner 2049 is how stark it is. Opening in a desolate, grey field where Ryan Gosling‘s Officer K confronts Dave Bautista‘s Sapper Morton, the world of the Blade Runner sequel steadily unfolds into the cyberpunk mecca that we were first introduced to back in 1982.

It’s clear that director Denis Villeneuve and cinematographer Roger Deakins don’t want to ape the neon-drenched griminess of the original, instead delivering an oppressive urban labyrinth that parallels the dense claustrophobia of modern Hong Kong high rises. Only one-third of the way through the film do we see hints of a vibrant neonscape cutting through the smog and rain that covers the futuristic Los Angeles. And with that neon: holograms of dancing women in anime-inspired outfits, cute Hello Kitty-style machines, Chinese characters and Japanese kanji galore.

It amounts to a stunning, dissonant image in one of the most gorgeously shot movies of the year, and not an unfamiliar one: science-fiction movies have long borrowed East Asian imagery as a visual shorthand to portray a more globalized society. It has roots in none other than the original Blade Runner, which drew from the burgeoning Tokyo and Hong Kong metropolises of the time, as well as the rapid globalization in the ’80s. With the massive cultural influence that China, South Korea, and Japan wield today, it’s no huge leap to assume that in the near future, every city would be a cultural melting pot with East Asian influences run amok. But in Blade Runner 2049, it feels less like a nod to those influences so much as it feels like window dressing.

When East Met West: The Rise of Cyberpunk

Los Angeles is known as one of the United States’ most colorful cultural melting pots, housing a Chinatown that had become so synonymous with the gritty underbelly of the city that it inspired the title for one of Hollywood’s most famous film noirs. From that Chinatown spawned the makings of the classic cyberpunk aesthetic — Ridley Scott’s Blade Runnertook that Chinatown-set, gritty neo-noir aesthetic and ran with it.

With 1982’s Blade Runner and William Gibson’s seminal 1984 novel Neuromancer came the birth of cyberpunk, a sci-fi genre heavily influenced by Japan’s technological boom of the 1980s and Tokyo’s rapidly rising metropolis. After visiting Japan, Gibson once said:

Modern Japan simply was cyberpunk. The Japanese themselves knew it and delighted in it. I remember my first glimpse of Shibuya, when one of the young Tokyo journalists who had taken me there, his face drenched with the light of a thousand media-suns – all that towering, animated crawl of commercial information – said, ‘You see? You see? It is Blade Runner town.’ And it was. It so evidently was.

Cyberpunk blew up in the ’90s, and you could see it in everything from The Matrix, to Total Recall, to anime itself. Ghost in the Shell, Akira, and more all depicted a futuristic, grimy vision of Neo-Tokyo whose visuals can be traced back to Blade Runner and Neuromancer. It’s a cyclical nature of inspiration, see — from Tokyo to America, back to Tokyo again.

“The work that has influenced me the most in my anime profession would be, of course, Blade Runner,” Cowboy Bebopand Samurai Champloo director Shinichiro Watanabe said in an interview about his Blade Runner anime short. There’s been a cross-pollination of ideas and influence between the two countries for years — just look to “god of manga” and Astro Boy creator Osamu Tezuka’s influences in Disney’s Bambi, and Disney’s subsequent “plagiarizing” of Tezuka’s Kimba the White Lion for their ’90s film The Lion King.

These sci-fi films depict a future where cultural boundaries don’t exist. One of the tenets of sci-fi is its potential to predict innovations or technologies within our reach. At the rate that the world is globalizing — on a political, cultural, and social media level — the vision that Villeneuve has for Los Angeles in 2049 is probably not far off. But amidst all Chinese or Japanese slogans and imagery draped over skyscrapers, where are all the East Asian people?

The ‘Firefly’ Effect

Firefly was an ambitious, witty, and wonderful sci-fi series that was gone too soon. But it’s been long enough since the series was unceremoniously cancelled by Fox that I can say this: Firefly has a race problem. While it was inspired for showrunner Joss Whedon to give his western space opera a Chinese twist, there aren’t many (or any) Chinese characters in the series to back up this piece of world-building.

Chinese culture in Firefly is so ubiquitous that all the characters curse, write, and read in Chinese. Yes, I know the Chinese curses were a clever way for Whedon to bypass prime time TV censors, and yes, I know that in the Fireflymythology, China and the United States are the two remaining superpowers. But for all the Chinese spoken in the show, for all the Chinese-inspired design and fashion in the series, there was barely a Chinese character to be seen. There is approximately one documented minor character of Asian descent in the series, and a few extras who were spotted. It’s odd to have Chinese culture be so dominant, and not have one Chinese character establish a presence.

Blade Runner 2049 runs into these same pitfalls. While the Asian-influenced imagery remains further in the background than it did in the original Blade Runner, where the sequel goes wrong is the utter lack of Asian characters. I spotted maybe two extras of Asian descent — one in the false memory that Carla Juri’s Dr. Ana Stelline was creating, another in a fleeting shot behind Officer K when he’s approached by Replicant prostitutes. And the one character with an Asian-inspired name — Robin Wright’s Lt. Joshi has a traditionally Indian surname — is most assuredly not.

So if East or South Asian culture or language is so powerful, who is it for?

Angelica Jade Bastien at Vulture makes an interesting point about sci-fi’s tendency to depict a post-racial world in which the white characters — often dehumanized and oppressed — exist in a strange space between the Asian-inspired landscapes and the allegories for minority oppression which they are acting out. “Science fiction has long had an uncomfortable relationship with Asian cultures, which are mined to create visual splendor in order to communicate otherness,” Bastien writes. “[R]ace is relegated to inspiration, coloring the towering cityscapes of these worlds, while the white characters toil under the hardships that brown and black people experience acutely in real life.”

Like Bastien notes, sci-fi stories don’t reckon with real-life minority narratives, instead preferring to turn them into allegory. This is an effective technique, no doubt, but assumes that this futuristic world we’re introduced to is a post-racial society in which culture has become so globalized that racial and cultural borders don’t exist — but these societies are still predominantly white.

Living in a Material But Not a Post-Racial World

One of the best depictions I’ve seen of a cross-cultural future was in Disney’s Big Hero 6, an often overlooked superhero-lite movie released in 2014. The protagonist, Hiro, is a half-Japanese, half-American boy genius living in the somewhat clunkily-named San Fransokyo — an amalgam of San Francisco and Tokyo.

But less than a clumsy merger of the San Francisco skyline with Japanese-inspired artifacts, Big Hero 6 creates a rich world in which the two cities comfortably mesh the old with the new, much like the neon-drenched Tokyo that became an inspiration for many a cyberpunk metropolis in the ’80s.

At the time of the movie’s release, The New Yorker‘s Roland Kelts called the elegant-yet-eclectic design of San Fransokyo a “marvel of architectural alchemy”:

“Shibuya skyscrapers with pulsing video screens hug San Francisco’s iconic Transamerica Pyramid. Victorian Mission duplexes line hilly San Fransokyo neighborhoods, aglow from the pink-white light of Japanese cherry blossoms in full bloom below. Trains from the Yamanote and Chuo lines, two of Tokyo’s central and most popular railways, stream by on elevated tracks. The sprawling Yokohama Bay Bridge connects the financial district to San Francisco’s East Bay, which may well be home to Oaksaka and Berkyoto in this Japanamerican universe.”

As much as I point to Blade Runner 2049 as one of the perpetrators of the problem of choosing “costume” over “collaboration” (see: this Vulture roundtable discussion on where the line of cultural appropriation should be drawn), the original Blade Runner managed to avoid this stumbling block. Perhaps it was because its neo-noir style was as much ingrained in the Chinatown of Los Angeles as it was inspired by the Hong Kong skyscrapers, or perhaps it was because Rick Deckard negotiated with as many Asian noodle sellers and seedy pawn shop owners as he interacted with those of other ethnicities. Whatever the case, this is one of the few places where the sequel falls short of the original.

Still, there are other films that sit uncomfortably on the periphery. Ghost in the Shell divorced itself of any cultural context completely by moving the setting from a futuristic Tokyo to the ambiguous New Port City — though that setting still retained its cyberpunk East Asian influences. This means that the 2017 Ghost in the Shell tangled entangles itself with its own  representation and diversity problems — there are a few Asian characters and one of the two recognizable actors featured (Rila Fukushima) is a geisha robot. In Ghost in the Shell, the vague nods to all cultures only make the film feel more hollow and aimless — a shell, you might even say.

A Future to Look Forward To

Blade Runner 2049‘s missteps with race don’t detract from the powerful story it tells about the will to live, and love. Rather, Villeneuve’s film becomes an interesting confluence of issues that have been simmering beneath the surface of sci-fi for a long time now.

It only becomes noticeable when held up to the original film, whose influences become all the more stronger even as Blade Runner 2049 becomes less about any cultural inspiration than it is about an all-encompassing message about humanity. Blade Runner 2049 comes at a time when Tokyo is no longer than awe-inspiring cultural metropolis that spawned so many cyberpunk stories and movies. It comes at a time when the future looks less like the colorful, grimy neon lights of Blade Runner and more like the dense, smog-filled labyrinths. So the story it tells is no longer one that is rooted in our current paranoias and beliefs, but rather a universal story about the abstract concepts that Villeneuve comes to again and again: cycles of brutality, and cycles of empathy.

I wish I could say I had a better conclusion — but then again, who does?

[museinspo]

*.:｡♦ ⋅ ⋆ — MUSING TAGS - QUOTE EDITION

i recently hit a huge milestone & reached the 2nd birthday for this blog, so i wanted to do something cute to give back & say thank you !!! with that being said, under the cut you’ll find 828 quotes that can be used for character musing tags ! they’ve been categorised into different labels ( eg. the baby doll, the lothario, the vixen, the cataclysmic, etc ) so some quotes may appear under more than one category. i do, however, recommend checking out all the categories !! they were just listed by my own interpretation and definitely aren’t limited to a certain label in the slightest. the pronouns used are simply what was used in the original line but can obviously be changed to fit your character. depending on personal preference, some may be a little too long but can be shortened down pretty easily. a general trigger warning is to be placed for these as they do reference some sensitive topics ( drugs, alcohol, sex, etc ), as the tags on my blog do. i believe that covers it all !! if you find this useful, please do like and/or reblog ! also, please let me know if you’d like to see a part two of this ! you can find the lyric version of this right here for more suggestions !!

general (31)

better to be slapped with the truth than kissed with a lie.

he is terribly afraid of dying because he hasn’t lived yet.

she drew silver linings of her own.

like art she was beautiful but like art she was also complex.

my mother looks at me and sees my father’s mistakes.

desire is the kind of thing that eats you and leaves you starving. 

she was brave and strong and broken all at once.

i am the sea and nobody owns me.

your sweetness is more cruel than your hurt. 

she looks like royalty ; so fine and distinctive. 

compare me not to stars but to storms and hurricanes. 

fuck your soft words because i am not soft. 

love breaks my bones and i laugh. 

sipping cool red wine out of a long-stemmed glass.

chain smoking tastes like 50′s perfume if you try hard enough. 

she crunches diamonds between her teeth.

in this world that kills beauty ; even gods cannot survive the fall.

it inspires a keen nostalgia in her for the simpler times before. 

friends and family filled with envy when they should be filled with pride.

my first love was an insignificant boy when it should’ve been myself.

he flew darling. he may have fallen ; but first he dared to soar.

take the weight of your insecurities and lay them underneath a gravestone.

you have your fathers mouth and dreams of ripping it off your face. 

you lie to erase the memories from your naked body.

i’ve kept my feelings to myself for i’ve never found a language to express them.

you drink a little too much and go home alone. 

the most beautiful of angels are destined to fall. 

his biggest fear is ending up like his father. 

she was restless in a way that seemed permanent. 

i am mine before i am ever anyone else’s.

she isn’t human ; she is art with a heart.

the addictive (9)

i used to smoke to get high ; now i smoke to stay sane.

you drink like you have something to forget. 

his fingers flash with jeweled rings when he waves them ; dealing drugs out of his pocket. 

he spends his nights drinking jack and smoking weed.

i’ve got whisky with white lies and smoke in my lungs.

i’ll find comfort in my pain eraser. 

oh baby you’ve made mistakes and drained the bottles. 

the addictions that were killing me faster are the ones i loved the most. 

you drink a little too much and go home alone. 

the aesthete (21)

she had lavender in her hair and roses on her cheek.

she has the moon in her mind ; that’s why stars spill off her lips.

like art she was beautiful but like art she was also complex.

he craves the balm of beautiful and soft things.

there she was ; bathed in moonlight and silhouetted by stars. 

he was vulnerable ; to art and to the sky. 

her aura is made of poetry, roses and galaxies. 

to be written in ink is to be immortal. 

seduce me ; ravish me with your words and poems. 

he’s made up of silk and rose water.

everything has beauty but not everyone can see it.

let me tell you about the birds and the bees ; the moon and the stars.

like artwork i could admire you forever.

getting drunk on honeyed water with berry stained lips.

she’s dreaming of lace trimmed dresses and warm pink cheeks.

he wanted to be extraordinary to possess a savage glitter.

his trouble is that he falls in love with every pretty thing.

one day he realised he was made of light.

she wore flowers in her hair and carried magic secrets in her eyes. 

he falls in love with details.

he’s always had a terrible weakness for beautiful things.

the anthomaniac (16)

she had lavender in her hair and roses on her cheek.

i need the empty field around me and my legs pounding along roads.

she longed to go far into the fields and listen to the birds. 

he sits before flowers hoping they’ll teach him the art of opening up. 

barefoot in grass and drinking fresh lemonade.

she was made of sunlight.

the earth laughs in flowers as does he. 

she wore flowers in her hair and carried magic secrets in her eyes. 

she spent hours on the riverbank and had midnight swims.

i need the empty fields around me and my legs pounding along roads.

sensitive souls don’t have it easy ; that’s why their eyes light up when they breathe in the scent of a flower.

nature is not a place to visit ; it is home.

i have nature and art ; is that not enough?

he has a garden and a library ; that’s everything he needs.

for me ; beauty is first and foremost in nature.

there’s a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.

the artisan (28)

seduce me ; ravish me with your words and poems.

underestimate me so i can embarrass you. 

she has the moon in her mind ; that’s why stars spill off her lips.

rule #1 never be #2.

there is a loneliness only poetry knows.

painting is poetry than is seen rather than felt.

poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.

be my muse and you can have my soul.

gather the constellations in your mind ; press them to paper & call it art.

writers make love to whatever they need.

her eyes are classic novels and poetry.

to write is to hold the power of a thousand universes between paper and pen.

i write as if it can heal my broken heart.

i write what i could never say.

artists are prisoners of their own creations.

write to settle the rage within you. 

when she dances she looks like a poem about loss.

in writing you must kill all your darlings. 

it’s funny how artistic we become when our hearts are broken.

he left pieces of himself in his art.

there is a chaos in my mind that can only be quelled by my hand on a pen.

i want music that makes holes in the sky. 

with my beaten small guitar wearing the same old jeans.

i am writing to disappear. 

to be written in ink is to be immortal. 

show me a hero and i’ll write you a tragedy. 

heartbreak makes poets of us all.

she had literature inside her heart that she couldn’t sometimes write.

the astrophile (20)

i would drink the sky and inhale the stars if i could. 

i want to exhale stardust and create my own constellations.

moonlit princess in the night.

the stars in her eyes are far more beautiful than those in the sky.

and the stars whispered ‘come home’

i look up at the moon and wonder who else is looking too.

let me tell you about the birds and the bees ; the moon and the stars.

you are a cosmic child ; a celestial wonder.

she has the moon in her mind ; that’s why stars spill off her lips.

she’s beauty she’s grace she’s in love with aliens and space.

people hope to touch the sky ; i dream of kissing it.

i would drink the sky and inhale stars if i could. 

i want to exhale stardust and create my own constellations.

i saw galaxies in your eyes ; your love put stars in my evening skies.

you will give meaning to the evening skies. 

now we’re lost somewhere in outerspace. 

her aura is made of poetry roses and galaxies.

when you dream ; do you dream of the stars?

i can see the stars from the window of my bedroom and i think i’m in love.

she dreams under the midnight sun of colour and melodic heartbeats. 

the baby doll (21)

she’s in the window in her pink dress ; radiant & transparent. 

she had lavender in her hair and roses on her cheek.

she has the moon in her mind ; that’s why stars spill off her lips.

there she was ; bathed in moonlight and silhouetted by stars. 

she tastes like fairytales. 

their soul is baby pink and very expensive. 

her idea of love was gentle and silent like a whisper of a touch.

she was like cherry wine and what a lovely headache she left behind.

to be soft is to be powerful.

she’s made of silk rose water and glitter.

she spritzes her face with rose water and moves on.

his voice is honey.

his affection comes fast or not at all.

she falls in love with the attention you give rather than the person.

he’s gentle and soft.

everything about her is so captivating ; like the aftermath of a storm. 

she possesses an innocence so destructive she puts angels to shame.

he’s a glimpse of bliss ; a little taste of heaven. 

she doesn’t love ; she quickly falls and ever so slowly picks herself back up and walks away.

there’s something godly yet sinful about loving her. 

she wasn’t afraid of being left ; she was afraid of being forgotten.

the bellwether (11)

she’s in the window in her pink dress ; radiant & transparent. 

there she was ; bathed in moonlight and silhouetted by stars. 

she wore her dress almost as well as she wore the universe.

she uses stardust as a highlighter.

stay until enough people have had time to admire your attire. 

my mascara’s too expensive to cry over this.

fashion is the most powerful art there is.

he doesn’t wear outfits ; he creates looks.

she wishes she could make decisions the way she picked her clothes ; from a catalogue.

the sound of heels on pavement is the ultimate power trip.

you can never be overdressed or overeducated.

the benevolent (26)

you blossom under kindness like a rose.

you managed to have a soft heart and peaceful mind despite the cruelty of the world.

you don’t have to be a child to be naive ; just have too much of a good heart.

she would have swallowed the sun to make you warm enough.

to love and lose and to still be kind.

her hands are soft and her eyes shine in the sun. 

she laughs like she hasn’t a care in the world. 

he’s got a heart so pure ; i bet he has flowers growing between his ribs.

she was not a girl of ice and glass but of sunshine and stardust.

she emits warmth and injects laughter into the people she encounters. 

isn’t it ironic that you take care of everyone but yourself?

she dismissed those who stopped her from being able to see the world’s good.

she tastes like hope.

kind people are forged in fire and darkness and imploding stars. 

he was made of sunlight.

to be soft is to be powerful.

optimism can save the world. 

she cares ; its kind of her thing. 

all he wanted was to receive the love he gave. 

you’re soft like spring flowers and the white feathers inside your pillow. 

there’s bravery in being soft. 

it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations. 

the world gave him so much pain and here he was turning it to gold. 

he takes care of everyone but himself. 

her voice is honey. 

you are not weak just because your heart is so heavy. 

the bibliomaniac (15)

i grew up in the shadow of a big bookcase ; where verses and novels all mingled and murmured.

books became her friends and there was one for every mood.

she made a vow to read one book a day as long as she lived.

novels aren’t just happy escapes ; they are slivers of peoples souls. 

books were cold but safe friends ; he adored them. 

walking the stacks in a library ; feeling the presence of sleeping spirits.

books gave him a comforting message ; you are not alone. 

he finds himself turning to books and films for comfort. 

a library is like an island in a vast sea of ignorance. 

he dreams of old books and french cafes. 

he loves fictional characters because he has a habit of loving people who can’t love him back. 

novels aren’t just happy escapes ; they are slivers of people’s souls. 

her eyes are classic novels and poetry. 

he always imagined paradise as being some kind of library. 

she wants to be the kind of woman people read books about. 

the cataclysmic (20)

you will learn why storms are named after people.

i’ll swallow my blood before i swallow my pride.

there were girls who would tear you apart with their lips.

you took a wonder boy and you threw him away to become a monster.

the world demanded hate from her and so hate she gave.

girls like her were born in a storm. 

how do i stay tender with this much blood in my mouth?

she sins to forget she has a heart.

you’ll understand why storms are named after people.

her mind is a very dangerous and destructive place.

real darkness was more than just a lack of light.

do monsters make war or does war make monsters?

if i’m anything it is violence. 

to you everything tastes like blood.

she was destruction given form and purpose.

she held an elegant savagery. 

not everyone can swallow the parts of you that have sharp edges.

you’re more than the fires you’ve walked through and the storms you’ve caused.

he tore the beauty from his face and called it terror. 

there is blood in everything you say. 

the connard (15)

my heart currently resembles the ashes of my cigarettes.

not everyone can swallow the parts of you that have sharp edges.

take off your armor and let your skin breathe. 

those who are heartless once cared too much. 

he spent his life learning to feel less. 

she can be so cruel and it comes so quickly that birds fly away. 

how to be unapproachable ; a book by me. 

i know i’m fucking moody and i know i’m quite unkind. 

mood ; not in the mood. 

smiling is a sign of weakness. 

sorry i’m such an asshole. 

on one hand who cares and in the other hand so what. 

most likely to not give a fuck.

in memory of when i cared. 

being brutally honest is a different shade of mean. 

the coquette (20)

there were girls who would tear you apart with their lips. 

she sins to forget she has a heart.

she’s like a rose ; she’s beautiful and enchanting but her roots are full of wounds.

she tasted like imported sophistication and domestic cigarettes.

she kissed demons and slept with ghosts because living with the dead felt more like home.

a pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty heart.

she looked at young men like she could smell their stupidity.

she’s a sweet talker with great legs ; her affections fleeting and wild.

she was sweet like cherry wine ; what a lovely headache she left behind.

her hair was long and her eyes were wild. 

how to be a heartbreaker. 

she’s no angel.

blow a kiss ; fire a gun.

she could tear you apart with her lips. 

her attention comes fast or not at all. 

she touches herself with strawberry painted fingers. 

call me your baby girl. 

boys play with toys and girls play with boys. 

she wasn’t actually in love but she felt a tender curiosity. 

they hate her because she smells of vanilla and doesn’t pick up her phone. 

the credulous (14)

you don’t have to be a child to be naive ; just have too much of a good heart.

she laughs like she hasn’t a care in the world.

he’s so busy looking for the good in people he misses the knife they’re holding in their hand.

he’s the definition of starry eyed. 

she thinks she’s living in a fairytale ; it’s why she fears the world so much. 

she feels too vulnerable and soft for the world. 

when someone shows her their true colours ; she tries to paint a different picture. 

he was blinded by how people took him for granted. 

be gentle with her ; she’s more vulnerable than she appears. 

he’s always depended on the kindness of strangers. 

she burned too bright for this world. 

he knows too much and not enough. 

she possesses an innocence so destructive she puts angels to shame.

she will love you unconditionally and that may be the saddest part about her.

the crepehanger (22)

she’s rotting quietly under her skits with a melancholy smile.

the world demanded hate from her and so hate she gave.

my heart currently resembles the ashes of my cigarettes.

her imagination has made friends with the dark parts of her mind.

she was a compulsive pessimist ; always looking for the soft brown spot in the fruit ; pressing so hard she created it.

you have such a february face ; so full of frost of storm and cloudiness.

and i’m disgusted with dreams now.

be like snow ; beautiful but cold.

she wears darkness as a queen wears her crown.

show me a hero and i’ll write you a tragedy. 

he doesn’t expect sunshine and rainbows to be coming from every aspect of life. 

be like snow ; beautiful but cold. 

i’m full of poetry now ; rot and poetry. 

but his bones knew something wonderful about darkness. 

she is rotting quietly under her skirts with a melancholy smile. 

a negative mind will never give a positive life. 

he became bitter and untouchable. 

you know what they say about hope ; it breeds eternal misery. 

i overflow like this black night. 

she walked with darkness dripping off her shoulders. 

i’ve seen ghosts brighter than his soul. 

we’re all cynics and romantics ; sometimes simultaneously. 

the crestfallen (20)

she’s rotting quietly under her skits with a melancholy smile. 

i am made of insecurities.

you are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy.

sadness flirts with my soul and takes that too.

take the weight of your insecurities and lay them underneath a gravestone.

you may be in pain but you are not weak. 

if only her life could be more like the movies. 

what hasn’t killed her has made her oversensitive and defensive. 

she’s a lions roar ; broken glass and a thousand tiny paper cuts. 

when he’s sad he doesn’t say a word. 

she’s standing in the window ; transparent and lost. 

crying doesn’t mean you’re weak ; it means you’re alive. 

she’s strong but she’s exhausted. 

silence is not a song you should know all the words too.

some say she’s very poetic others say she’s very sad. 

sadness fucks me way too often.

she is broken and she won’t ask for help.

he’s broken apart his insides.

when he moves he looks like a poem about loss. 

he believes he’s nothing without his pain. 

the crimson (20)

you’ll understand why storms are named after people.

she wanted a storm to match her rage.

she slipped her anger into something silky and attractive. 

i have the world raging under my skin.

she beats her knuckles into other peoples jawbones ; the fight club is her temple.

to you everything tastes like blood.

she hissed ; her teeth dripping crimson. 

he’s never been good at emotional stuff ; except anger. 

he’ll argue about anything with anyone. 

and the grace of the gods is a grace that comes by violence. 

there is blood in all the things you say. 

tragedy exists because you are full of rage. 

he’s got fire for a heart. 

he has the whole world raging beneath his skin.

the world demanded hate from her so hate she gave. 

there is so much hate in his heart. 

rage is the only emotion he’s good at feeling. 

he’s a tiny yet angry force of nature. 

make me your enemy and you shall see fury. 

he’s made up of black coffee and poorly supressed anger. 

the despondent (26)

skin deep damage does not make you unlovable. 

i’ve turned people into homes and i ended up homeless.

the feeling of emptiness is incredibly intoxicating.

she’s strong but she’s exhausted.

my heart currently resembles the ashes of my cigarettes.

if only hell didn’t feel like home.

he became bitter and untouchable.

her imagination has made friends with the dark parts of her mind.

she fought best when she was breaking.

there is a beauty in the emptiness of your soul.

he opens his mouth and dust spills out instead of feelings.

sadness flirts with my soul and takes that too.

she walked with darkness dripping off her shoulders. 

i’ve seen ghosts brighter than her soul.

i’m a ghost that everyone can see.

be like snow ; beautiful but cold.

take the weight of your insecurities and lay them underneath a gravestone.

not everyone can swallow the parts of you that have sharp edges.

his chest caves in whenever he thinks about the past. 

it’s so dark in the room you’ve chosen to store your regrets. 

you’ve handled tragedy ; surely you can handle tenderness. 

maybe emptiness is a way of listening. 

he spent his life learning to feel less. 

she wears darkness as a queen wears her crown.

you may be in pain but you are not weak. 

a lot of confidence generates disappointment.

the dirtbag (15)

his motorcycle is the loudest noise in the city that never sleeps.

his fingers flash with jeweled rings when he waves them ; dealing drugs out of his pocket. 

he spends his nights drinking jack and smoking weed.

his life is flashing lights and nights in jail for petty theft. 

she’s a burden on society. 

you were wild once ; don’t let me them tame you.

she spends her day riding motorcycles and smoking cigarettes. 

he told me he was afraid of commitment with thirteen tattoos on his body.

mood ; not in the mood. 

on one hand who cares and on the other hand so what. 

he always finds the energy to sin. 

he loves the way being bad feels. 

boys who skate are better at grinding. 

she doesn’t give a damn about her reputation. 

property of no one.

the facade (15)

she’s like a volcano ; cool and calm on the surface with lava running through her veins.

you wear a mask for so long you forget who you were beneath it.

your mouth can lie but your eyes can’t.

you are not her anymore ; always presenting a different facade. 

her eyes said more than words can say.

alone in my head ; i am content to pretend.

in a world where everyone wears a mask ; it’s a privilege to see a soul.

everyone saw a princess but inside she was on fire ; crashing and burning.

look at her smile and in the corner of her smile you’ll find the smallest hint of sadness.

her eyes are pure stars but her touch will freeze you to the bone.

not everyone can swallow the parts of you that have sharp edges.

take off your armor and let your skin breathe.

he spent his life learning to feel less.  

kind faces are a lie.

i’ve met people who have never met me. 

the fallen angel (16)

everything my mother prayed i wouldn’t be i became. 

my heart currently resembles the ashes of my cigarettes.

how do i stay tender with this much blood in my mouth?

if only hell didn’t feel like home.

i was a goddess and now i ache.

he became bitter and untouchable.

maybe you have to know the darkness before you can appreciate the light.

i’ve lost so many battles but i won’t lose the war.

she was not a girl of ice and glass but of sunshine and stardust.

in this world that kills beauty ; even gods cannot survive the fall.

and i’m disgusted with dreams now.

skin deep damage does not make you unlovable. 

you’re more than the fires you’ve walked through and the storms you’ve caused.

my father looks at me and sees everything i used to be. 

you may be in pain but you are not weak. 

broken isn’t the same as unfixable.

the fervour (17)

i never learned how to love in small doses.

pick up your heart on the way out.

those who truly love never stop loving.

i would rather die of passion than of boredom.

she felt everything too deeply ; it was like the world was too much for her.

he’s a lover without a lover.

i’m still a sensitive woman just with passion.

she creates entire romances in her dreams.

he’s an incurable romantic. 

she falls in love so passionately and out of love so painfully.

i never learned how to love in small doses. 

he has no notion of loving people by halves. 

god save the romantics who wil destroy themselves for a better story.

it’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply.

he spent his life learning to feel less. 

my heart just sang and out poured my soul.

her idea of love was gentle and silent like a whisper of a touch.

the grifter (3)

she thinks manipulation is the greatest art of them all.

she’ll look you in the eye as she tears you open. 

he’s the best at what he does and what he does isn’t pretty. 

the halcyon (20)

he is terribly afraid of dying because he hasn’t lived yet.

love her but leave her wild.

she loved the sea ; it made her feel small but free as well.

i never learned how to love in small doses. 

lay underneath the clothes line and listen.

people like you are not meant to stand still.

you were wild once ; don’t let them tame you. 

her foot was light and her eyes were wild. 

optimism can save the world. 

he’s alive with pleasure. 

he refuses to die ordinary. 

he doesn’t get attached to moments because good or bad ; they all pass. 

she didn’t allow life to just happen to her ; she traveled the world and wrote books about it.

once you learn to create your own happiness ; no one can take that away from you.

she likes her hair messy her love wild and her sex aggressive. 

she wants to love and radiant light. 

home doesn’t exist for girls like her. 

a life lived in fear is a life half-lived.

he wants to touch the sun and immerse in the sea. 

take your shoes off and dance in the rain.

the impecunious (5)

now your wallet is nothing more than empty space. 

the girl of her dreams was herself but with more money.

nothing to steal. 

girls just want to have funds. 

he wants to work until his bank account looks like a phone number.

the impious (7)

every day that satan tempts me i take it in my stride.

she’s no angel.

he believes in hell and he’s in it. 

she sins to forget she has a heart.

he always finds the time to sin.

god is love but satan does that thing with his tongue that you love so much. 

he refuses to believe he’s not the god of his own universe.

the intangible concept (16)

she was truly a puzzle but god forgive anyone who mistook her for a game.

her smile screamed ‘you don’t know me and you never will.’

i’ve met people who have never actually met me.

i’m a different person to different people but unknown to a lot.

she rolled into town like a new mystery. 

for he had a great variety of selves.

he’s a mystery wrapped up in a pretty body.

she looked pale and mysterious ; like a lily under water.

her eyes reminded me of tinted windows ; she could see out but you couldn’t see in.

you will never know the real him.

accept the mystery.

she was like the moon ; part of her was always hidden away.

he’s as beautiful and mysterious as the night sky.

perhaps she loves mysteries so much that she became one.

trying to understand him is like trying to hold smoke in your hands.

she spoke to no one and carried secrets in her eyes.

the isolato (15)

i need the empty field around me and my legs pounding along roads.

loneliness becomes an acid that eats away at you.

i was quiet but i was not blind.

alone in my head ; i am content to pretend.

loneliness is like a drug ; you know it’s bad for you yet you keep going back.

she’s so transparent ; she could disappear without a trace. 

i wasn’t lonely when i was alone. 

he doesn’t mind being alone so long as he doesn’t feel lonely. 

she doesn’t let anyone in so she doesn’t risk the chance of losing them.

he was born alone and he’ll die alone.

she believes she’s better on her own.

she spoke to no one and carried secrets in her eyes.

he felt alone in a crowded room.

he could disappear forever and no one would notice ; that’s how he liked it.

she has no time for meaningless conversations and friendships.

the lost soul (15)

travel far enough that you meet yourself.

i am a language i am yet to understand.

you will find your place in this lost world and give meaning to the stars.

i mean different things to different people ; but who am i to me?

i was quiet but i was not blind.

how does he know who he even is ?

she’s in the window looking lost and transparent. 

he feels homesick for a place that doesn’t exist.

he’s a ghost that everyone can see.

when she moves she looks like a poem about loss.

how can he move forward when he doesn’t know which way he’s facing?

i’m the place between who i want to be and who others have made me out to be.

he’s starting to miss the person he used to be.

his mind is an ever going ocean with dark shades of teal.

two years later and i was gone.

the lothario (15) 

he told me he was afraid of commitment with thirteen tattoos on his body.

my heart currently resembles the ashes of my cigarettes.

his mouth is heaven ; his kisses falling over me like stars.

he is lust ; he is sex in the back seat of a car. 

he is an angel made of devilish grins and laughter.

he’s a god in human form but he’s got a corrupted soul.

he is the dangerous boy with the wild heart. 

a pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty heart.

he’s a sweet talker with great legs ; his affections fleeting and wild.

there’s a hunger inside of me ; a thirst to be godly. 

how to be a heartbreaker.

don’t give pieces of your heart away that you’re not even sure you have.

he was temptingly beautiful but stung anyone who got too close. 

blow a kiss ; fire a gun. 

he has persuasive lips but terrible motives. 

the magnate (21)

underestimate me so i can embarrass you. 

rule #1 never be #2.

he’s a corporate ceo ; making storms in other peoples lives.

there’s a hunger inside of me ; a thirst to be godly. 

the lawyer with the briefcase can steal more money than the man with the gun.

the sound of heels on pavement is the ultimate power trip.

she’s driven by power and profit.

stressed but well dressed.

act like you trust people but don’t.

you can never be overdressed or overeducated. 

she thinks manipulation is the greatest art form of all.

people like her don’t write books ; she’s written about. 

if you’re good at something never do it for free.

she’s a powerful girl.

be ambitious not thirsty.

her favourite position is ceo.

it’s only failure if you don’t learn something.

he doesn’t stop until he’s proud.

we all die ; his goal is to create something that never will.

intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings.

find a way ; if there isn’t one make one.

the miscreant (7)

his life is flashing lights and nights in jail for petty theft.

dressed to kill.

she sins to forget she has a heart. 

at what point does a man turn into a monster?

he’s the best at what he does and what he does isn’t pretty.

his fingers flash with jeweled rings when he waves them ; dealing drugs out of his pocket.

she’s a burden on society.

the paracosmist (21)

her imagination has made friends with the dark parts of her mind.

people hope to touch the sky ; i dream of kissing it.

i fear my imagination ; i’ve fallen so deeply in love with people and places i’ve only dreamt of.

things rarely happened the way he’d imagined them. 

the real world is where the monsters are. 

her mind stays up all night telling itself stories.

if only her life could resemble the movies. 

go after dreams not people.

only her dreams will keep her from falling apart.

he’s always dreaming ; even when he’s awake.

he has an entire universe inside her mind.

she thinks she’s living in a fairytale ; it’s why she fears the world so much.

he creates entire romances in his dreams.

she fears her imagination for she’s fallen in love with places she’s never been and people she’s never met.

he’s in a world of his own.

why stop dreaming when you wake up?

the world needs fantasy not reality.

a thousand dreams within me softly burn.

life is hard but dreaming is not.

we lead strange lives ; chasing our dreams from place to place.

she tastes like fairytales ; she tastes like hope.

the paradox (17)

fire in her bones ; honey in her soul.

she’s sweet when she has to be & fierce when she needs to be.

i’m part heaven and equal parts hell.

she was the kind of girl who was a chaos of contradictions.

her heart has an argument with her head every time it beats.

we’re all cynics and romantics ; sometimes simultaneously.

she is madness ; she is hell and paradise.

she was truly a puzzle but god forgive anyone who mistook her for a game.

the girl has always been half goddess, half hell. 

he’s got both light and dark inside of him.

she tastes like nectar and salt.

we all have both light and dark inside of us.

he wears darkness and strength equally well.

the girl has always been half goddess half hell.

fire in his bones honey in his soul.

he told me he was afraid of commitment with thirteen tattoos on his body.

he feels everything so strongly or not at all.

the pastiche (20) 

everything my mother prayed i wouldn’t be i became.

you took a wonder boy and you threw him away to become a monster.

the world demanded hate from her and so hate she gave.

how do i stay tender with this much blood in my mouth?

if only hell didn’t feel like home.

no one has apologised for all that i have lost.

do monsters make war or does war make monsters?

not everyone can swallow the parts of you that have sharp edges.

skin deep damage does not make you unlovable. 

you’re more than the fires you’ve walked through and the storms you’ve caused.

don’t apologise for the way you chose to survive. 

his chest caves in whenever he thinks about the past. 

you were wild once ; don’t let them tame you. 

my father looks at me and sees everything i used to be. 

he used to be better.

she’s not entirely here ; half of her has disappeared. 

we are good people and we’ve suffered enough.

i am sorry for who i had to become to survive. 

he wants himself back but he doesn’t remember who that is.

who i was then and who i am now are vastly different. 

the philophobe (16) 

he told me he was afraid of commitment with thirteen tattoos on his body. 

my heart currently resembles the ashes of my cigarettes.

he’s not afraid to love ; he’s afraid of not being loved back.

silly boy she laughed ; love is for fools.

my first love was an insignificant boy when it should’ve been myself.

name the taste of your last heartbreak and spit it out. 

do not fall in love.

i have love inside of me but i don’t know how to use it ; it scratches like barbs.

you were temptingly beautiful but stung when someone got close.

love scares her more than a gun.

she’s afraid of love so she doesn’t love anything.

loving was painfully awful and terrifying for her.

he craves attention but the mere thought of someone caring made his stomach turn.

she’s convinced that to love was to be torn apart.

she’s too busy being scared to realise she’s already in love.

his sin was falling in love and he’s learned his lesson.

the phoenix (20)

you can’t change the past but you can alter the future.

i survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me.

you are not her anymore ; always running away from feelings.

you are not her anymore ; not that masked and layered princess.

you are not her anymore ; always presenting a different facade.

my first love was an insignificant boy when it should’ve been myself.

he flew darling. he may have fallen ; but first he dared to soar.

the way you brave your chest to the world is terribly brave.

you’re more than the fires you’ve walked through and the storms you’ve caused.

don’t apologise for the way you chose to survive. 

his chest caves in whenever he thinks about the past. 

admire your reflection as you step out of the haze of what's gone. 

do better and move on.

broken isn’t the same as unfixable.

someday the pain will be useful.

if the hurt comes so will happiness.

she forgave and became.

her best revenge was improving herself.

the sun will rise and he will try again.

you have suffered enough ; it’s time that you won.

the polymath / academic (17)

underestimate me so i can embarrass you.

the more he acquires the more certain he is that he knows nothing.

the possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery.

happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing i know.

i can’t live in blissful ignorance like others. 

he’s interested in everything and in nothing else.

we are voyagers ; discoverers of the not known. 

everything interests me but nothing holds me.

you can never be overdressed or overeducated.

it’s only failure if you don’t learn something.

he doesn’t stop until he’s proud.

intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings.

keep growing and learning.

his mind is as big as the universe.

true intelligence operates quietly.

it’s only failure if you don’t learn anything.

remind yourself that it’s okay to not be perfect.

the pristine (15) 

you don’t have to be a child to be naive ; just have too much of a good heart. 

her hands are soft and her eyes shine in the sun. 

she laughs like she hasn’t a care in the world. 

he’s got a heart so pure ; i bet he has flowers growing between his ribs.

she possess an innocence so destructive ; she puts angels to shame.

you’re soft like spring flowers and sunsets and white feathers inside your pillow.

she tastes like fairytales ; she tastes like hope.

to be soft is to be powerful.

he’s soft like spring flowers and sunsets. 

his voice is honey. 

you don’t have to be a child to be naive ; you just have to have too much of a good heart. 

he looked like milk and honey would flow out of him.

be gentle with them ; they’re more delicate than they look. 

you’re a glimpse of bliss ; a little taste of heaven. 

they’re as pure as a river. 

the prosperous (15) 

we are beautiful and privileged. 

there’s a hunger inside of me ; a thirst to be godly. 

the sound of heels on pavement is the ultimate power trip.

he’s driven by power and profit.

her soul is pink and very expensive. 

billionaire boys club.

you can never be overdressed or overeducated. 

she wanted to be extraordinary. 

she’s a trust fund baby. 

people like me don’t write books ; we’re written about.

selfish people live longer.

money makes her romantic.

he’s spoiled and selfish.

the devil does indeed wear prada. 

her aesthetic is money and fighting with people.

the reticent (16) 

no one will ever be able to totally capture her ; she seemed so evanescent.

nothing haunts you like unexpressed feelings.

silence is not a song you should know all the words to.

your mouth can lie but your eyes can’t.

she kept her thoughts to herself.

her eyes said more than words can say.

the secrets inside her mind are like flowers in a garden at nighttime ; filling the darkness with perfume.

he’s met people who have never truly met him.

you don’t ask ; i don’t tell.

things she can’t say outloud.

he wants to write a novel about silence ; the things people don’t say.

if you don’t get it off your chest you’ll never be able to breathe. 

i don’t think anyone will ever truly capture her ; she’s so evanescent.

secrets that i held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought. 

he doesn’t care who sees him naked ; he cares who sees him cry. 

she was like the moon ; part of her was always hidden away. 

the reveller (10) 

she sins to forget she has a heart.

you drink like you have something to forget. 

he spends his nights drinking jack and smoking weed.

i’ve got whisky with white lies and smoke in my lungs.

you were wild once ; don’t let them tame you. 

you drink a little too much and go home alone. 

she doesn’t give a damn about her reputation.

good times ; bad friends.

he’d rather be getting high.

dance all night ; sleep all day.

the self destructive (15) 

if they can’t find anything to destroy ; they destroy themselves.

my heart currently resembles the ashes of my cigarettes.

i destroyed myself so you couldn’t hurt me.

you play with fire because you want to be burned.

he has a habit of self destruction.

god save the romantics who wil destroy themselves for a better story.

my hands are full of ash because i burn everything i touch. 

he plays with fire because he wants to be burnt.

you will learn why storms are named after people.

she was destruction given form and purpose.

she held an elegant savagery. 

nothing can destroy me like i can destroy myself. 

you can’t scare a girl by screaming fire if she wants to be burned. 

i desire the things that will destroy me in the end. 

my hands are full of ash ; i burn down everything i touch.

the solicitous (12) 

she’s drowning in an ocean of thoughts.

he’s tired ; he just wants the world to be quiet for a bit.

she was calm on the outside but thinking all the time.

the voice inside my head speaks louder than the one that comes out vocally.

he just wants to escape one thing ; his head at night.

her thoughts are haunting her.

too busy feeling feelings and overthinking it.

once he learnt to think he couldn’t stop.

i think i worry too much ; i need to take it easy. 

maybe i think too much for my own good.

most of the stuff people worry about never happens. 

he’s afraid of talking nonsense.

the sovereign (21)

not everyone can swallow the parts of you that have sharp edges.

she thinks manipulation is the greatest art of them all.

you think i’m not a goddess? try me. touch me and you’ll burn.

i’m learning to sharpen my teeth and rule kingdoms.

oh royal princess ; i love the way you wear your crown.

be careful royal princess ; too much and you will drown.

she was afraid of being forgotten.

a pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty heart.

look to your kingdoms ; i am coming for them all.

everyone saw a princess but inside she was on fire ; crashing and burning.

rule #1 never be #2.

she looked at young men like she could smell their stupidity.

there’s only one queen of the underworld.

queens raise queens.

she was destruction given form and purpose.

she held an elegant savagery. 

who still believes in kings?

the girl has always been half goddess, half hell. 

she wears darkness as a queen wears her crown.

she wasn’t afraid of being left ; she was afraid of being forgotten.

the sound of heels on pavement is the ultimate power trip.

the traveler (15) 

no one will ever be able to totally capture her ; she seemed so evanescent. 

travel far enough that you meet yourself.

she loved the sea ; it made her feel small but free as well.

home doesn’t exist for girls like me.

we are voyagers ; discoverers of the not known. 

she runs until the world is quiet and the smells are peaceful.

people like you are not meant to stand still.

remind yourself of how fast you’re able to run. 

no matter where you run ; you always end up running into yourself. 

she longed to go far into the fields and listen to the birds. 

he’s flirting with life ; teasing each city with his presence before leaving them behind. 

be inspired by beauty everywhere ; be a citizen of the world.

i love places that make you realise how tiny you are in the world.

he wants to see every kind of sunset. 

be a traveler not a tourist.

the urbanite (10) 

his motorcycle is the loudest noise in the city that never sleeps. 

if you want to find love than you know where the city is. 

she loved the loud cry of the city. 

but first ; coffee. 

everyone hurts themselves in the city ; then they pick themselves up to not get in anyone elses way. 

living in new york city is like dating a comedian ; fun while it last but when it’s over man is it over. 

she loves to make coffee for the city that loves to drink it.

he loves the empty streets and 5 am winds of the city. 

brooklyn baby.

smells like cold coffee stress and aesthetic in here.

the utopian (5)

she thinks she’s living a fairytale ; that’s why she fears the world so much.

her idea of love was soft and gentle like a whisper of a touch.

he never learned how to love in small doses.

people wait a lifetime for true happiness.

he thinks fate is behind everything.

the vindictive (16)

i’ll swallow my blood before i swallow my pride.

you took a wonder boy and you threw him away to become a monster.

my heart currently resembles the ashes of my cigarettes.

you’ll understand why storms are named after people.

she wanted a storm to match her rage.

she fought best when she was breaking.

no one has apologised for all that i have lost.

is it better to out monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?

a pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty heart.

to you everything tastes like blood.

you will learn why storms are named after people.

his chest caves in whenever he thinks about the past. 

it’s so dark in the room you’ve chosen to store your regrets. 

he tore the beauty from his face and called it terror. 

there’s a hunger inside of me ; something vicious. 

there is blood in everything you say. 

the vixen (25)

there were girls who would tear you apart with their lips.

i’m part heaven and equal parts hell.

girls like her were born in a storm. 

love her but leave her wild.

she sins to forget she has a heart.

she’s like a rose ; she’s beautiful and enchanting but her roots are full of wounds.

she wanted to be extraordinary ; to possess a savage glitter.

you’ll understand why storms are named after people.

she tasted like imported sophistication and domestic cigarettes.

she thinks manipulation is the greatest art of them all.

home doesn’t exist for girls like me.

like art she was beautiful but like art she was also complex.

people find her madness charming because she is so beautiful.

a pretty face doesn’t mean a pretty heart.

everything about her is captivating like the aftermath of a storm.

she looked at young men like she could smell their stupidity.

she was taught young to strike first and you’ll always be safe.

she was destruction given form and purpose.

she held an elegant savagery. 

not everyone can swallow the parts of you that have sharp edges.

you’re more than the fires you’ve walked through and the storms you’ve caused.

the girl has always been half goddess, half hell. 

she wears darkness as a queen wears her crown.

she was sweet like cherry wine ; what a lovely headache she left behind.

the sound of heels on pavement is the ultimate power trip.