#calling them the verde siblings until someone tells me

[mad-c1oud]

Idk if ur Charlie duo request extend to Gegg but if so maybe Gegg and Antoine or Mike with the prompt “Show me where it hurts.” if not then maybe Mike & Charlie with “If you feel safer with me being there, you know I will always be there.”

dude dude dude YES I chose Mike and CHarlie for this one but I am very intrigued by Antoine... Ill be honest, I don't really know how to write Gegg but my interest is beyonf piqued... maybe in the future...

+++++

“If you feel safer with me being there, you know I will always be there.”

Charlie’s heart clenches in his chest at Mike’s blunt words. The scary thing isn’t what he’s about to do, no, it’s that he believes Mike. He does know that his brother will always be there for him. He should be apprehensive, nervous, and unwilling to look the other in the eye when he says, “Okay, I- yeah okay. Could you- Can you come with me? Please?”

But he isn't, this is all too easy. It's... Mike is safer.

Mike beams at him, usually droopy eyes bright and just as warm as ever. He slings a warm arm around his shoulder and pulls Charlie into his side hard enough to nearly send them both to the ground laughing. Just like that, the anxiety eases and Charlie almost forgets why he’s freaking out until his comms unit buzzes a few times. Mike hooks his chin over his shoulder to read the messages, a reassuring weight that helps him to actually open them in the first place. Funny what a little support makes you capable of. Ha.

Tubbo_: okay were at the adoption center now Tubbo_: maybe keep that… rash hidden Tubbo_: and remember, no weapons king

Charlie winces, tugging his sleeve down to cover the infection creeping up his arm. Mike scoffs behind him before stealing the comms and typing something into chat for him before he pushes the device back at Charlie. He doesn’t bother reading what his brother sent because it’s either in Portuguese or full of very Nice Words. He’ll laugh over it later; it’s something to look forward to.

“Would you like for me to kill him? He’s been bothering Pac and Fit too. It is a… good reason to hurt him. Don’t need one, though. But I would, for you both.”

Charlie snorts and leans away from the other, pocketing his comms before turning to face Mike. “Nah, it wouldn’t be a great first impression, yah know, killing Sunny’s pa and all.”

Mike frowns, reaching hands out to pull Charlie towards him. His brother fusses with his hair a little which is pointless, then moves to straightening his collar as he talks, “Isn’t Sunny your kid too? I think she even called you pops or something before and you haven’t even met. Shut the fuck up, man.” He rests his hands on Charlie’s shoulders and squeezes hard, “Just be you, I think she’ll like that.”

Charlie can’t help it, can’t help but ask, “Even when they find out about Tilín?”

And oh boy, top ten ways to make Mike mad! New one found: whatever the fuck Charlie just said.

“I am- I will kill you, no wait I will let Mine kill you. You are so- filho da puta estúpido. Graças a Deus não somos parentes de sangue,” he groans, dragging a hand down his face, “Okay, we are going to go meet these two. Together. You will do fine, Sunny will love you, and Tubbo will shut his hole.”

“That’s a pretty difficult hole to shut-”

Mike sighs, “Slime.”

“Sorry just- nervous.” Charlie breathes and Mike similarly relaxes, frown easing into a small smile. He throws another arm around Charlie and walks them to the waystone as he talks.

“They are going to love you, meu irmão. I know I do and I am always right. Don’t insult me like that.”

Charlie does not cry, but it’s a damn near thing.

[feelingforgod]

Mike’s Talk

Good evening brothers and sisters. My name is Michael Secrist and I’m a recent addition to the stake. I’m also a medical doctor and the  newest interventional radiologist on staff at the hospital down the road. I grew up not far from here in Palos Verdes and I’m very happy to be back within a few miles of the ocean. This is a stake unlike any I’ve ever been in. There is a feeling of excitement about doing the Lord’s work and actively loving all of God’s children. And the beautiful music we experienced at ward and stake Christmas programs – there literally were not enough seats in the loft for all the musicians and some singers sat in folding chairs. This really is a special place and I feel lucky to be here. I want to tell you a story about a little boy. This little boy was born with hazel eyes. You and I might see hazel eyes as a beautiful and rare variation in Heavenly Father’s tapestry of mortal life, but in his world, people with hazel eyes weren’t trusted. They were not “normal.” They were seen as other and unnatural. He always knew he was somehow different and people treated him differently. He tried desperately to fit in. He wore blue contact lenses to hide his eye color. He wore them all the time and never took them out. He wore his contacts so long that even his own family members believed he had blue eyes. And it worked. He was just like everybody else. He could fit in. He went to church with the kids his age and heard lessons about Heaven and eternal families and the blessings awaiting them...unless they had hazel eyes. One day he heard some high school kids talking about their favorite musician. “A reporter caught him at a night club without his contacts. Can you believe he had hazel eyes all this time? Gross!” Kids at recess made jokes and games about hazel eyes. No one wanted to get tagged and be “hazel in the middle.” The little boy’s family went to his grandparents’ house for Thanksgiving one year and some of the family made quiet conversation about an uncle who didn’t come around much. Some suspected he really had hazel eyes as well and that he might not even be hiding it with contacts anymore. “No! Why would you think that?” The little boy’s mother spoke up, standing up for her brother. She didn’t want to believe it of her own brother. Her objection came from a place of love but the little boy sank deeper into his chair and squeezed his eyes shut, just in case his disguise wasn’t enough. He would never let anyone know his truth – his shame. He would never be one of those people even his own family despised. His mother told him frequently she loved him. They all did. But they wouldn’t if they knew. It was as if he had a magnetic field surrounding him that deflected positivity. No “I love you” reached his core where he was imploding. The person his family loved was a blue-eyed boy that didn’t really exist. Years went by and the boy hoped the contacts would grow into his eyes and he could in some sense be normal. But, instead, his eyes began to hurt. They burned! The pain some days was so intense that he had trouble just functioning. His grades suffered. He got in fights with his little brother. Then one day at church he heard someone say that everyone who kept their hazel eyes hidden would be rewarded with blue eyes in the next life. Maybe that was the answer. So, he began daydreaming about how he could end his life. No one would ever need to know the shame he carried with him. He thought his death would be so much easier for his mother to deal with than the reality of an eternally damned, hazel-eyed son. After years of sobbing through nightly prayers to his Heavenly Father to change his eyes to blue, he now had hope in death. Amidst his suicidal ideation, a new bishop asked to talk to him – just a routine annual youth interview. The bishop was loving and kind and for some reason the boy felt safer than he had with other bishops. Quiet desperation bubbled to the surface. As he looked down at the carpet of the office to avoid the disgust the bishop was bound to feel, his magical blue contacts fell from his eyes and his carefully crafted disguise evaporated. And I said in a choked whisper, “I think I’m gay.” Surprise. Yep, I’m the little boy. Welcome to my story. To this point in my life, the words “I’m gay” had never passed my lips, largely out of fear that it would make it more true – make it real. As soon as I had said it, I began to panic. Surely, the bishop would react angrily and tell my parents. I’d lose my family and have to live on the street. The church would abandon me. Why did I say those words?! My life literally depended on the reaction of this man I barely knew. But instead of the reaction I was expecting, he just said, “Tell me more about that.” He asked me about my feelings and at the end of our talk, he hugged me. I was shocked that even after I had told him my deepest secret, he wasn’t afraid to touch me. We would have frequent conversations over the next few years but most importantly, he loved me. I likely would not have lived to my 16th birthday if he had not shown love to that scared 13-year-old boy. I went to BYU after high school and after one year there, I served a mission in southern Russia. Some people may think it’s too hard or that it should be impossible for a gay young man to serve a mission. On the contrary, most gay Mormons I know have fond memories of their missions because their sexuality isn’t an issue. The thing that has consumed their thoughts isn’t important for two years. No one is wondering why they aren’t asking out that pretty girl in the ward. Something else I found is that gay elders come equipped with a superhuman ability to love the people they serve, and, like I did, most of them begged and pleaded and made deals with God to make them straight in exchange for their wholehearted service. I didn’t find out until years later that many of the missionaries and even assistants to the president I most looked up to, many of the most solid missionaries, were gay. This very minute, the church is benefiting from the selfless service of hundreds of gay missionaries in the field. And, unfortunately, not all of them had a loving bishop like I did in my youth. And not all of my leaders have been so loving as that first one. One bishop told me he put a permanent mark on my record that would preclude me from ever holding a calling involving children or youth. To be a gay member of this church is painful and I would never pass judgement on any LGBT person who chose to step away in order to preserve their mental health. There are cases of post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms in LGBT people associated with their experience in our church (Source 1) similar to soldiers back from war and I feel it’s important to acknowledge their pain. By the time I completed my degrees in biology and linguistics at BYU, I was deeply depressed and I took a year off before starting medical school. During that year, I submitted myself to what is known as conversion therapy, a practice that now has bans in 14 states with legislation in many others pending. Every week, I drove several hours to pay an expert $300 an hour to make me straight. In my mind, this had to work because I thought there was no purpose in my living if it didn’t. It didn’t work, but I held on to my belief I would be transformed someday. In medical school, I met a wonderful woman. We began to date and became best friends. I brought her home to meet my family and I thought maybe this could work. If it was going to work with a woman, it was her. But whenever I thought of proposing to her, I got a sick feeling. I knew I loved her on every level – every level but one very important one, the physical. And although I knew she loved me enough to try to make it work, I wanted her to have a husband that worshiped her in every way. It was then that I knew I needed to finally share my whole truth with my family. I came out to mom and dad and 5 siblings by telephone in one night and the loving responses from them were better than I had expected. It was another surprise to me when I woke up the next morning and looked inward and I found the Holy Ghost was still there. I was in uncharted territory. I had no examples or established path anymore and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Over the next 6 years of post-graduate medical training, I learned a lot about myself. I allowed myself to date other men. I even fell in love once. I only share this because of what it taught me. I had been so conditioned to believe that any love for someone of the same gender was disgusting and corrupt. But the feelings I felt were pure, selfless, and beautiful. I finally understood what friends and family had told me about falling in love. Rather than turn my back on my Heavenly Father, this experience brought me closer to Him and I felt Him teaching me, “You see, Mike? You see what beautiful things I have in store for you?” My residency training made church attendance difficult and I felt removed from the church. I had to develop my own personal relationship with God independent of the instruction and opinions of church leaders. I learned to rely on personal revelation, which would benefit me enormously when it came to being gay, because this is something church leaders haven’t experienced and do not understand – and, more often than not, misunderstand. So, let me dispel some myths for you as a gay man and a doctor who has studied sexuality all his life. -I did not choose to be gay, nor have any of the hundreds of LGBT people I know. Why would anyone choose such a hard road? If someone comes out to you, it’s because they love you and want you to be a part of their life. They have always been who they are even if it took them a while to figure it out. -I am not gay because of anything my parents did and I was not sexually assaulted as a child. However, LGBT children and youth are at a terribly high risk of sexual assault and these beautiful children of God need to be protected. (Source 2) - Sexuality is not something that you can change. And it’s not something that my Heavenly Father needs or wants me to change. I know now by the source of all truth that I am the way He meant for me to be and He loves me so much exactly the way I am. My gayness is inextricably connected to my musical talents, my sensitivity to others’ needs, my ability to easily love other people, and so many parts of myself that I now see as beautiful and essential to who I am. I know my Father made me this way, so why would I want to change it? Brothers and Sisters, I have always felt the need to know how to save a life. I think there was always a low-grade anxiety that someday someone would be dying in front of me and I wouldn’t know what to do to save them. It’s driven me to learn about physiology and pathology. As soon as I was able, I learned basic lifesaving skills. In my 20s, one week after my test for my Emergency Medical Technician certification, my sister’s toddler choked in front of me with no one else around. I did what I was taught and popped a large mouthful of animal crackers out of her. I know that one of the reasons I was put here on Earth is to save lives in my occupation as a medical doctor. When I moved to Seal Beach, I considered whether or not I needed to be an active part of the ward, given how painful it can be for LGBT people to be present in church. Lesbian, gay, and bisexual youth are five times more likely to commit suicide than their peers. (Source 3) That risk is multiplied by being a part of a family, community, or church where homosexuality is unacceptable. (Source 4) We lose these beautiful young people one by one to suicide and it is completely preventable. I understand now that my mission on Earth is simply to save lives, not only in the hospital where I work every day but also outside the hospital. I mean to rescue as many of these young people as I can and help their families love them unconditionally. When I considered not coming to church, I was thinking about myself and my own comfort. But the Spirit turned my thoughts around on me and told me that I needed to be here not for myself but because someone else here needs to know that He knows and loves them just as they are. I know there are LGBT people in this stake silently suffering when people make comments that make them feel alone and hopeless. I know that there are several youth here who will come out to their families someday but in the meantime, they sustain deep wounds from comments their loved ones make about LGBT people or the “gay lifestyle.” Elder M. Russell Ballard said, “We need to listen to and understand what our LGBT brothers and sisters are feeling and experiencing. Certainly, we must do better than we have done in the past so that all members feel they have a spiritual home where their brothers and sisters love them and where they have a place to worship and serve the Lord.” We are members of the restored church of Jesus Christ and are fortunate to have more light and knowledge in one place than anywhere in history. But we should not be afraid to admit that we don’t know everything. Article of Faith 9 says “We believe all that God has revealed, all that He does now reveal, and we believe that He will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.” I don’t know how LGBT people fit into the Plan of Salvation, but my friend Derek, a trained biblical scholar and gay man who joined the church a few years ago, likes to say, “There’s more room for me in the Plan of Salvation than there is in the closet.” Where there are gaps in our understanding, let us fill them with compassion and unconditional love. Brothers and Sisters, I have a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I believe He died for our sins and that he loves each and every one of us. I pray with all my heart that we will be sensitive to all types of people who don’t fit the mold and learn from them and the gifts the Father of all of us has given them. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Michael Secrist, 1/19/2019, Long Beach Stake Conference Source 1: Simmons, Brian W. Coming Out Mormon: An Examination of Religious Orientation, Spiritual Trauma, and PTSD Among Mormons and Ex-Mormon LGBTQQA Adults. 2017. The University of Georgia. Ph.D. dissertation. https://getd.libs.uga.edu/pdfs/simmons_brian_w_201712_phd.pdf

Source 2: Rothman, Emily F., et al. The Prevalence of Sexual Assault Against People Who Identify as Gay, Lesbian, or Bisexual in the United States: A Systematic Review. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse, vol. 12, no. 2, Apr. 2011, pp. 55–66, doi:10.1177/1524838010390707 Source 3: CDC. (2016). Sexual Identity. Sex of Sexual Contacts, and Health-Risk Behaviors Among Students in Grades 9-12: Youth Risk Behavior Surveillance. Atlanta, GA: U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.

SOurce 4: Lytle, Megan C. et al. Association of Religiosity With Sexual Minority Suicide Ideation and Attempt. American Journal of Preventive Medicine , Volume 54 , Issue 5 , 644 – 651.

[rinastray]

To Readjust

Series: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Characters: Verde, Sawada Nana, Fon, Sawada Tsunayoshi

Relationship: Sawada Nana & Verde

Vday Mini-Event: Day One - Impossible

Summary:  Fon hints at an intriguing possibility.

People just didn’t call him. Not out of the blue, and certainly none of the ones involved in that day. It wasn’t like they had any particular reason too. So when the phone that was mostly used to order equipment and supplies rang, he just looked at it for a long moment before picking it up.

“Nihao, Verde.”

-=-=-=-=-

Fon’s request had been… strange, to say the least. Come out to a small town in Japan. There’s something there that you might be interested in researching.

He’d even agreed to paying travel costs, so all Verde was loosing was maybe a week of time on his projects.

The house Fon’s directions led him to was quaint in its own way, and with Keiman draped over his shoulder in approximation of a plush the scientist reached out an rapped on the door. And the woman who opened the door was slender and bore the characteristics common to the Japanese, though there was something about her eyes and the curve of her jaw that hinted at foreign ancestry.

She smiled when she saw him and smoothed the apron over her skirt as she crouched closer to Verde’s height. Surprisingly though, instead of coming of as condescending the movement seemed to be accommodating. “Are you Fon-san’s acquaintance?” she asked, brown eyes bright and… was that a hint of orange in them? Fon had found a Sky, an active Sky, in this quiet little town? That alone was almost worth the hassle of getting there.

“I am.” He nodded briefly to the alligator on his shoulder. “This is Keiman. And you are?”

A thin frown crossed to woman’s mouth for a moment. “Fon-san didn’t give you my name?”

“He didn’t tell me much of anything when he bade me to come,” Verde groused.

“Well that won’t do.” The woman smiled, welcoming and warm. “I’m Narumi Nanami, but just Nana’s fine. Fon-san’s upstairs with Tsu-kun, so please come in and make yourself at home while I call for him.” Nana stepped back into the house with Verde on her heels and called up to the second floor.

Verde stepped out of his shoes as Keiman wriggled off his shoulder, dropping to the floor and scurrying off after a flash of white that had appeared down the hall. Nana followed sedately after them with a giggle. Then a sharp screech sounded from the top of the stairs along with an aborted thud and a startling flash of crimson dropped down the stairwell to the landing.

There was still a shrill noise coming from a brown haired child as they clutched at the shirt of the one who had caught them, and Verde felt himself freeze as he took in the person’s figure. Fon, an adult Fon somehow restored to his previous self though still wearing that cursed pacifier, took note of the stare and smiled one of those damnably serene smiles that he was so fond of.

“It’s alright, Tsuna,” the taller - damn him! - man said, setting his armful down and ruffling the child’s, a boy, fluffy mess of hair. “See? No hurts; just a scare.” Tsuna nodded with a hiccup as he rubbed at his eyes.

“Tank you,” the boy mumbled.

“Why don’t you go help your Mama?”

“Kays!” the boy chirped, tears forgotten as he went off down the hall.

Verde finally found his voice as the child disappeared around the corner. “How?”

“I’m not entirely certain, though I think it might have to do with Harmonizing,” Fon said, even as something shifted in the air and suddenly the martial artist was a child again. “Nana seems to get lightheaded if I try holding it too long.”

“Less a cure and more a reprieve, then,” Verde said, the implications turning over in his mind. “And if limited by your Sky’s…” He trailed off. Someone who wasn’t one of the Arcobaleno had managed to bond with the world’s strongest Storm. Verde had thought that they were too far out of the league of anyone else’s abilities for that to happen.

“I knew this would interest you.” Fon’s voice held a hint of smugness, though his face was as mild as ever, and Verde gave him a very flat look.

-=-=-=-=-

Verde ended up staying, transferring his lab to a suitable location provided by Fon’s little sister Meihua - none of them had known he had siblings, though honestly none of them had ever been very open with the others, despite Luce’s machinations attempts - and tried to lose himself entirely to the faint hint of maybe, hopefully finding away out of this curse.

Tried being the operative word though, as Nana had taken it upon herself to make sure that he ate and slept regularly. She’d even tempted Keiman into helping (the traitor). Losing that much time for research to such plebeian things as sleep grated Verde to no end but Fon’s Sky had put her foot down and had even made a rational - and sensible, as much as he hated admitting - argument.

So two or three times a day she dropped by, sometimes by herself, sometimes with her son in tow. Those times were the worst, as Tsuna always turned those wide brown eyes on him (the boy was as much a Sky as his mother, Verde was certain of that) and talked him into bathing with him. Sometimes though she’d just show up and talk, rambling on about the strain of being separated from one’s Guardian, or about the man who had fathered Tsuna.

Then one day, a few months after Fon had trusted him with knowledge of his Sky, Nana stopped by, morose and pale, and said she wouldn’t be by for a week for some reason or other, but that she had made sure to ask Meihua to keep him fed.

-=-=-=-=-

The next time Nana showed up there were dark circles beneath her eyes. Verde didn’t even notice her come in, and it wasn’t until Keiman tugged at his lab coat incessantly that the Arcobaleno even realized she was there, curled into a tight ball on the bed that had been put there for his use, face pressed against the pillow and fingers white from the force of her grip.

-=-=-=-=-

Then one day Verde did notice when she came in, because as soon as the door had closed she slid down and buried her face in her hands with a sob. Brokenly she ranted about having Guardians that couldn’t stay, because there’d be suspicions if they just disappeared from where others thought they should be. She just wanted them there with her! Was that too much to hope for?! Keiman shuffled forward and rested his head on her lap and Nana snuffled as she pet his snout.

The feel of her flames was thick and choking in the air, tangible in her frustration, her desire for her Guardians, but for as heavy as it was it simply washed over Verde and didn’t push.

“Get some rest.” For a moment Verde didn’t realize that he’d spoken until Nana lifted her head and stared blankly at him. Gah, that sounded like he cared about her well being. “Getting precise results is difficult if agitated flames keep throwing the readings off.”

Nana let out a watery laugh at his words and rubbed at her eyes with a sleeve, a vivid parallel to Verde’s first meeting with the woman’s son. “Thank you for worrying,” she said, shakily getting to her feet and making her way towards the bed. “Don’t forget that you need rest too, Verde-san.”

-=-=-=-=-

Blinking slowly into wakefulness, Verde lay still in the dark for a long moment before pressing a hand to his face and sitting upright as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His other hand gripped the edge as he fought off vertigo, feet pressed flat to the floor. This was one of the reasons he hated sleeping. Fighting through headaches and ringing was one thing, he could still work on his projects, but sleeping always left the world spinning when he woke and he couldn’t think straight through it.

Which is why it took him a few minutes to realize that a few things were off.

Usually he had to hop down from the bed to the floor, but he could feel the solidness of the ground beneath the soles of his feet from where he sat, and something… something warm seemed to hum under his skin. Not his Lightning, though that was oddly content when usually it was sparking in annoyance just as he was after waking, but… It almost reminded him of Luce, before the tragedy of that day.

That thought made him still even as his hand slid back across the bed, brushing against Nana’s arm.

He couldn't have Bonded.

But the truth thrummed quietly in his chest and on a whim Verde pulled away from the sensation, only to have his whole world disorient, again, when he popped into a tiny body. He’d have probably fallen off the edge if Nana hadn’t caught him, the faint glow of amber bright in the dark. “Verde-san?”

She sat upright and pulled the scientist on to her lap. For once Verde let her, felt the warmth of her and her Flames, and allowed them to settle again within his own.

“Oh.” Nana’s hold tightened ever so slightly, and something damp fell on his hair. Her voice hitched as she whispered a strained, “Thank you,” into the dark.

[fulminearcobaleno]

MUSE AESTHETIC.

repost; don’t reblog!

bold the aesthetic for your muse; italicize what can be taken two ways.

**I am doing this with both Verde and my Fem!Verde muse**

the softest palms that never want to touch you until after a bottle of wine. / “ just braid your hair if you won’t brush it, at least, you useless girl. ” / pulling on your skirt with one hand as you shuffle away. / “ you’ll get it done before the day is up. ” / guilt that isn’t yours to have. / it’s a crooked game, but it’s the only one in town. / chains. / “ how could you do this to me? ” / the sharp sting of guilt. / you feel something even though you’re paid to do the opposite. / the family you never had. / falling backwards through time. /quicksand. / drowning, but you don’t save yourself. / “ you’re getting better. ” / “ they smile like a snake. ” / you’re the stars and the sky. / there’s a part of you that couldn’t stay away even if you were forced to. / they are your wings, there’s no doubt there. / “ let’s take off somewhere. let’s fly. ” / you edge a bit too close to the sun. / another ghost to take your place after every stumble. / deep roots in the ground slashed open in the sun. / rock candy melting in water. / waves rise and leave the foam behind. / the precipice you call home has a tip you’ll reach eventually. / happiness is the best front a man can take. / “ i’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you before. ” / you disagree; he’s more beautiful. / discomfort at the tiniest of touches. / the sky opens up when you see them. / rain comes down. / poppy fields. / your sanity hanging by a thread. / “ oh god, what have you done? ” / roommates weren’t supposed to be the smartest ones of all. / they’ve got a devil on their shoulder and an angel in their mind. / you try to help, but it only got worse. / now they’re dead, it’s all your fault. /

adam & eve in the garden. / a temptress in crisp button-downs. / “ fuck, you’ve gone off the deep end, haven’t you? ” / they lie so perfectly you almost forget yourself. / the spark that lit the kindling on your funeral pyre. / sugar and spice and a taste for the dark side. / yves saint laurent black opium on your pillow, a scented cloud drifting behind you like a cape. / crisp green apples piled up on the table. / your shoes are sharp, but your wit is even sharper. / what a pretty one, they say. / you laugh without humor. / a soft, hollow spot sits in your chest. / there’s a place you’ll never leave no matter who tries to stop you. / the seat of power fits like a glove. / heavy is the head that wears the crown. / you share a space, but not a mind. / they think you are weak; you are, maybe. / “ what are you going to do with all of these pills? ” / an empty bird’s nest. / broken pencil tips. / there’s an empty paper in front of you that you’ll never fill. / “ we want you to succeed. i hope you can grasp that. ” / “ they weren’t there when it happened. ”  / corruption. / there’s a red string tying you together. / the scent of whiskey on the horizon. / “ you’re the best friend i’ve ever had. ” / pink tipped fingers lock in secrecy. / 99 red balloons drifting through a hazy sky. / you try to lift your head up, but it’s so much effort. / always walking on sunshine. / there’s a million reasons to come down from the clouds, but you can’t be bothered. / hair twisted up with glitter butterfly clips like a haphazard mobile. (stolen clips from the kids) / you drift, but you know where you’re going. / no one has any dirt on you because you’re infinitely spotless. / the empty side of your bed they crawled into when they were nine. / court hearings. / “ I miss you. ” / siblings are a funny thing. / they point out every family-shaped hole in every picture on the mantelpiece. / blackbird screaming / you still wake in nightmares. / are you an illusion?/ you don’t feel real. / who is in control? / “ like you like me like corpses. ” / and all the choirs in my head sing. / it’s the laughing, it’s the laughing, it’s the laughing. / they tell you to put out your hand; you hesitated. / you’ll always be a protagonist but you won’t always be the hero. /

there’s a thousand eyes watching your every move in the darkness. / masks upon masks upon masks; secrets piling up until all the exits are blocked / with all your hiding, does anyone know who you truly are? / do you? / five seconds, four, three, two – you feel adrenaline surge through you. / the look on their face is every definition of ���no’; you’re still going to do it. / “ what’s worse, dying or being caught? ” / you still don’t know the answer. / “ you’d never hurt me. ” and yet you just might. / wings clipped to the flesh to prevent escape. / you’ll still find a way out. / someone else slipped in and took their place. / there’s a grin on your face and a bad idea in your head. / you’ll agree every time they try to tear you down. /

tagged by: @wrathscarred tagging: literally anyone who follows me and wants to do this