#life is strange max and chloe fanfiction

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Life is Strange

Sample Size: 8,155 stories

Source: AO3

[lifeissimssnapshots]

🫧𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕦𝕞𝕡 📷✨🫧

Just a little photo dumb 🫧✨

[xtraordinaryfangrl]

And the award for The Most Insufferable Loser of 2024 goes to!

…

*drumrolls*

…

No, but seriously, and as a writer myself —

I hope that person steps on the thickest lego-piece known to man today.

[izmissi]

Max keeps rewinding after orgasming to Chloe going down on her. PriceField Smut

Max knew she was being ridiculous. Maybe even a little reckless.

But fuck, how could she not?

Chloe’s tongue worked her over in ways that short-circuited her brain, and every time Max came undone, the post-orgasmic bliss was just too brief. Too fleeting. So, she did what any rational person with time-travel abilities and a desperate need for her girlfriend’s mouth would do—she rewinded.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The first few times, it was flawless. A loop of unrelenting pleasure, Chloe’s hands gripping her thighs, her breath hot against Max’s skin. She never tired, never slowed. Because she never knew.

But Max knew. Oh, did she know.

Every time she crashed over the edge, she felt herself craving it just a little more. She’d groan, whimper, feel the world shudder back a few minutes, and suddenly, Chloe’s tongue was on her again like it never stopped. Max could hardly remember what it felt like not to be in this moment.

She didn’t stop until her body forced her to.

The telltale burn behind her eyes came first, then the pressure in her skull. A slow, creeping sensation, like her brain was trying to squeeze out of her ears. And then—warmth blood.

Chloe froze.

“Dude—Max? Are you fucking bleeding?”

Max barely had the energy to crack her eyes open, chest still rising and falling with uneven breaths. “M’fine,” she slurred.

Chloe sat up, her hands flying to Max’s face, fingers swiping under her nose. Her fingertips came back red.

“Uh, the fuck you are.”

She reached for the crumpled band tee on the floor and pressed it under Max’s nose, frowning. “Jesus, how hard did you come?”

Max whined. “Chloe…”

“No, seriously, did you just fucking rewind? To—” Chloe pulled back, her blue eyes going wide. “Oh my God. You did.”

Silence.

Max bit her lip.

Chloe blinked. Then—

A grin. A full-blown, cocky grin.

“You’re such a needy little perv max.”

Max groaned, trying to turn away, but Chloe wasn’t having it. She grabbed Max’s chin and turned her back. “No, no, don’t be shy now, Caulfield. How many times did you rewind, huh?”

Max huffed. “...I lost count.”

Chloe cackled. “Holy shit, you rewinded yourself dumb.”

Max buried her burning face in the pillow. “I hate you.”

Chloe leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Nah, you love me. Apparently so much you’d rather risk a brain aneurysm than let me stop eating you out.”

Max weakly pushed at her. “Chloeee.”

Chloe laughed again but softened, pressing her lips to Max’s forehead. “Alright, alright, I’m done teasing. But seriously, babe—no more rewinding for orgasms. I will just edge you next time if you pull this shit again.”

Max whined, wiggling under her. “You’re so mean.”

Chloe smirked. “You love it.”

Max grumbled, but yeah. Yeah, she kinda did.

[the-green-divine]

A friend and I have written a detective story featuring everyone's favorite Arcadia Gays, called:

Amber & Price, Fields of Inquiry

If you're interested, give it a read and maybe leave a comment! And also enjoy this amazing art by @door-insurance of Detective Rachel Amber!

[sans-eats-mulch]

Chloe and Rachel... Oh my Sheila 😭

(I used a base as reference, if someone wants it lmk!!)

[twspots]

Chapters: 16/? Fandom: Life is Strange (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Victoria Chase/Kate Marsh, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Victoria Chase & Rachel Amber, Maxine "Max" Caulfield & Kate Marsh, Maxine "Max" Caulfield & Victoria Chase, Victoria Chase & Chloe Price Characters: Victoria Chase (Life is Strange), Kate Marsh, Maxine "Max" Caulfield, Chloe Price (Life is Strange), Taylor Christensen, Brooke Scott, Courtney Wagner, Rachel Amber, David Madsen, Nathan Prescott (Life is Strange), Alyssa Anderson, Dana Ward, Stella Hill, Zachary Riggins, Hayden Jones, Warren Graham Additional Tags: Stream of Consciousness, Introspection, Self-Hatred, Self-Destructive Behavior, Animation appreciation, Creative Process, cartoons, Weeabo!Victoria, Falling In Love, Angst, aaaaaangst, Sexual exploration, Sexual Tension, Pining, Cinnamon rolls, Kissing, So much kissing, Sexual Angst, Implied past sexual activity, chasemarsh, Rarepair, pricefield, Gay Pirates - Freeform, Mentions of Jeffershit - Freeform, Past Amberchase, subtle Marshfield, Very subtle Chasefield, Very subtle PriceMarsh, Misunderstandings, these two can never have it easy, Wild gay unicorns, nerds, fangirling, Anime, Swearing, Alcohol, Drug Use, Bisexual Female Character, Saved the Bay and the Bae AU, Slow Burn, Insecurity, #shittymothersclub, Trauma Summary:

"My parents banned me from watching most cartoons" Kate's brow furrowed, "except for veggie tales" she forfeited. Victoria dropped her pen, utterly baffled.

Because, really, how did she, Victoria Chase (fabulous famous photographer in the making) end up with Kate Marsh (genuine bible thumper and bunny lover) talking about Veggie Tales (of all things) in the first place?

OR IN SHORT

Max Caulfield saves Chloe Price and Arcadia Bay, but leaves collateral damage in the shape of two broken girls; Victoria Chase and Kate Marsh. Somehow, they both mutually help each other grow past their own individual traumas.

OR…

Victoria Chase becomes friends with Kate Marsh and it completely wrecks her gay heart.

[megalomaniacz]

ellie williams, newest student at blackwell academy? 🪵🦋🌪️ (moodboard)

[fill3dwithvitriol]

Hellooo!! My name is Maddie but u can literally call me anything. Ive been thinking of starting to write fanfic out of mostly boredom the rest is me just wanting to make yall happy with some fics, and i wanna know what kinda things people would want!! and yes smut is allowed fs.

WLW ONLY PLEASEEE.

put in the comments or in my asks what u would like!

games/shows/movies i can do:

arcane

tlou

life is strange

resident evil

and some more but for some reason my brain cannot think of what to put, and im sorry about the way this post is layed out i dont like it either and sorry if this post hogs unrelated tags i’ll remove it if i get complaints😭

btw im making an intro post soon putting all my limits, my info, a carrd, and other stuff

[chloe-caulfield94]

Max at Chloe's funeral

Max stood over her best friend’s coffin. Or was it her former best friend’s coffin? She wasn’t sure.

On one hand, the last time she saw Chloe had been five years prior, in the rear windscreen of her parents’ car. As Max drove away, Chloe was standing over her father’s coffin, almost in the exact same spot Max now stood. The last time Max communicated with Chloe had been four years ago, when she responded to a text from Chloe. Chloe asked Max not to ignore her phone calls and to pick up her phone from time to time. Max responded by saying she had been really busy, but she would totally call her later. She never did.

On the other hand, while Max had made new friends in Seattle – Kristen and Fernando, both of whom she liked and trusted - she had never developed with anyone a bond similar in depth and intensity to the one she had had with Chloe. It was only after Chloe had been murdered that Max realized Chloe had been like a family member to her. Like a sister.

As other mourners began to walk away, Max continued her silent watch over Chloe’s earthly remains, imagining the five years she could’ve spent with her best friend. The five years she had stolen from herself.

When Max saw Chloe’s bloodied corpse on Monday she didn’t recognize her. Only when the school security officer David Madsen started lamenting over his daughter’s lifeless body, repeating her name over and over, Max realized it was her best friend lying in a pool of blood on the floor.

Chloe’s short messy hair, dyed neon blue, was so unlike her old, long and straight blonde hair. During the wake, when Chloe’s body was displayed in an open coffin, she was much more recognizable to Max. She was dressed in a black pantsuit provided by the funeral home, almost identical to the one she wore during her father’s funeral, only slightly longer, to account for her growth in the meantime. Her hair, while still short and blue, was neatly combed behind her ears. Her hodgepodge of cheap jewellery was gone. Her tattoo was completely covered by the pantsuit’s long sleeve.

During the wake, Max heard other mourners say that Chloe looked “finally at peace”. She didn’t understand why they thought Chloe couldn't have been at peace in life. And the way Max saw it, while Chloe’s face, even paler than usual, was completely still, it conveyed anything but peace. Max was painfully aware that beneath Chloe’s black pantsuit was a hole in her breast, its edges held together by a thick thread, covering an entrance to a tunnel burrowed in Chloe’s flesh by a piece of metal which stopped her heart forever.

As Max was standing over her best friend’s coffin, not ready to let Chloe out of her sight as she had done five years prior, a blue butterfly flew in and sat on the wooden box.

And then Max remembered. She heard a voice. Chloe’s voice. She sounded differently. Not like a child anymore. But Max would recognize Chloe’s voice no matter how many years passed in the meantime. The older Chloe’s voice said all the things Max had ever wanted to hear. And all the things Max didn’t even know she wanted to hear, but deep down desperately needed to. Sweet, wise and heartfelt words of her long-lost best friend uplifted her heart.

“Every great artist gets rejected before they get accepted. So you have to enter a photo”.

“Stop being so goddamn humble. You’re like the smartest, most talented person I’ve ever known”.

“Once you get over yourself, you’re going to make the world bow”.

“You are! You just have to stop being afraid”.

“You’re kind and caring. Nobody could have a better best friend. Nobody!”

“You need to accept how awesome you are”.

“Stop beating yourself up, okay?”

“It’s time to start moving forward in time”.

“You’re Maxine Caulfield ... and you’re amazing!”

Max also remembered her own words, the ones she would’ve said during a week that never was, all in acknowledgment of how much Chloe meant to her.

“As long as we’re together, I don’t feel afraid”.

“As long as you’re there with me”.

“I always wanted my life to be special, an adventure. But not without you!”

“Your life has changed mine”.

And then she remembered things other than words. Handholding. Hugs. Longing stares. Kisses. Max discovered, to her great but oh so pleasant surprise, that while her love for Chloe was familial, it wasn’t like a love between sisters. It was like a love between spouses.

Max smiled wide remembering all of that. And then the butterfly flew away and she remembered something else. A kiss in pouring rain followed by a gunshot and a pool of blood. Smile immediately disappeared from Max’s face. She felt her heart stop for a moment. Then it started pounding furiously. It pounded so fast Max thought it would escape out of her chest. Her limbs became heavy and ice-cold.

“I … killed her?” – she asked in her thoughts.

“I killed her”- she answered her own question, muttering under her breath.

“I killed her!” – she screamed at the top of her lungs, having fallen to her knees.

The other mourners turned to Max. Joyce and David rushed to her. Joyce placed her hand on Max’s shoulder. Max’s body shook as she cried bitter tears. “I killed her, I killed her, I killed her” – she repeated.

“Oh, Max. it’s not your fault” – Joyce tried reassuring her. “Chloe … she was troubled. She ran in bad company. There was nothing you could’ve done to help her. She … She chose to remain angry”.

“She chose to remain angry” – Joyce’s words echoed both in Max’s ears and in her memory. She felt fury rise inside of her. Anger at herself and at everyone else in the town that had failed and killed her best friend.

“Fuck that. Fuck. That” – Max thought. She wiped her tears and slowly stood up. She turned to Chloe’s mother and said calmly: ”You know what, Joyce? I think I now understand why Chloe was always a daddy’s, not mommy’s girl”.

Joyce was taken aback. She took her hand off Max’s shoulder. “What? Max, what do you …”

“So when are you going to take down all of Chloe’s pictures from the walls? You hid away all of William’s pictures two years after his death. So in two years’ time they are going to be reunited in the closet, right? Father and daughter together at last. Just like they’ve been already reunited here in this cemetery plot”.

David intervened: “Max, you have no right to talk to Joyce like that …”

Max turned to David and asked him, in a raised voice, almost shouting: “What kind of a man hits his own child? I’ll tell you! No man at all!”

David opened his mouth to defend himself, but said nothing, apparently finding nothing to say in his defence. Max jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. Repeatedly. Hard.

Max screamed: “I’m pushing you! I just keep pushing you! Do something about it! Do what you always do when teenage girls push you!”

David’s face turned red. Not out of anger. Out of shame.

Max turned to walk away. And then she saw Frank Bowers standing on the sidelines. Fury rose inside of her. She pointed him with her finger and shouted: “What the fuck is he doing here? Why isn’t he in jail with Jefferson and Nathan? He’s the one who supplied them with date rape drugs!”

Frank looked around hesitantly, unsure if he should start running away or not.

Looking at David, Max shouted: “Hey David! This scumbag, who you were somehow unable to apprehend even though he often parked his drug van in the parking lot of the school you claim to provide security for, sold Nathan the drugs he used to roofie your daughter! You failed to protect her in life. How about saving the last shreds of your masculine pride and avenging her?!”

Frank tried disarming the situation the only way he knew how. With lies and threats: “This brat doesn’t know what she’s talking about! She’s probably high as a kite. Listen, girlie. I don’t know you. So I suggest you stop falsely accusing me, or you and I are going to have a serious talk …”

Max almost ran at him. She pushed him with both hands, making him stagger for a moment. Pompidou remained calmly seated on the ground. He did not stand in his owner’s defence, perfectly aware that Frank deserved every bit of what he was now receiving.

Max screamed at Frank: “But I thought you loved brats! Your entire life revolves around schoolchildren! You peddle your drugs to them! You exploit them as accomplices to your crimes, to do things you are too cowardly to do yourself! And some of them you even fuck, like Rachel!”

“I don’t know you. Get the hell away from me!”

“But I know you! Did you go to Rachel’s funeral as well? You know you killed her, right? You sold Nathan the drugs that he used to murder her. You know what he did to her? Have you seen the pictures he took of her? How he groped her? All of that is because of you!”

A grimace of rage appeared on Frank’s face. Without thinking, he instinctively reached into his pocket to retrieve his switchblade. Before he did, Max pushed him again, making him stagger.

“Stop that, you brat!”

“Or what? You’re going to put a knife to my throat, like you did yesterday at the beach? Chloe wrestled your knife away from you. If one girl beat you, I’m fairly confident I could kick your ass too!”

“You’re crazy! We never met before! And your friend Chloe …”

“She owed you money, I know. So you threatened to cut her! What a big, strong man you are! But when push came to shove, she beat you. She always did. Even when you had a gun and she was empty-handed. Always! Because you’re a weak parasite preying on kids. And she was strong. Stronger than you! You know how much time I spent replaying things so that you would come out of our little talk alive and unharmed? I really shouldn’t have. When violent armed thugs assault teenage girls, teenage girls have the right to defend themselves. But I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her. Because she was gentle and kind and I didn’t want her having to live with hurting you, even if it was just a scratch to the leg”.

Frank was still furious, but he didn’t reach for his switchblade a second time.

“You’re making shit up! Nothing of what you said ever happened!”

“Yes it did!” Max turned to David once more. He was holding Joyce in his arms, who was sobbing. Max shouted: “David, this piece of shit threatened your daughter with a knife. He called her a whore, over and over again. You want proof? Go through the text messages on Chloe’s phone. Mister genius drug lord over here sent death threats from his own phone number. David, if Frank is not arrested by cops by the end of the day, you have no right to call yourself a man, you hear me?”

David let Joyce go and started walking towards Frank. Frank sprinted away. Pompidou hesitated for a while, looking curiously at Max, but then he followed his owner.

Kate approached Max. She placed her hands on Max’s shoulders. With a sincere smile on her gentle face, she said: “Max, I am so, so sorry about Chloe. We’re here for you. It’s okay to feel hurt”.

Max wanted to thank Kate for her kind words. But before she did, something caused her anger to rise again. She and Kate were approached by Victoria, who said: “Kate is right, Max. If you need any help, just let us know. I …”

“Why are you here?” – asked Max coldly.

“Oh, I knew Chloe. One time she gave me a pep talk when I was afraid to go out on stage. She told me everything I needed to hear then. Ultimately I didn’t perform that night, but that’s another matter, involving Rachel, and I don’t want to speak ill of …”

“No, I mean why weren’t you expelled from Blackwell?”

“What? Max I was … misled. I didn’t know …”

“You led an intense campaign of cyberbullying against a fellow student. I’d say that warrants expulsion. Oh, right. Your parents are too rich for you to experience the consequences of your actions”. Max turned to Kate and said: “Kate, you do realize she knew you were roofied by Nathan, right? The campaign of hate she unleashed against you would be evil in its own right even if she thought you genuinely got drunk. Because Victoria has no right to judge you or anyone else. But she knew Nathan drugged you. She witnessed something that any rational person would consider to be a date rape in progress. A girl was drugged and removed from the party by a boy. And not only she let that happen, she laughed, recorded it and then lied about it to the world”.

Victoria was indignant: “I didn’t know about that, Max. I thought that was just a stupid prank by Nathan. I couldn’t possibly have known …”

“You knew, Victoria. You knew about ‘the good shit Nathan hooked Kate up with’. Why even lie? Kate would forgive you even if you told her the truth. If you know you will be forgiven, why hide your crime? At this point, aren’t you lying mostly to yourself? And explain one thing to me. Yesterday at the pool, when I told you what Nathan did to Kate, you didn’t believe me. But when I said you might be next, it’s like a switch flipped in your brain. You almost immediately believed my warning. Isn’t that a double standard? When it was about Kate, you were willing to give Nathan the benefit of the doubt that even though he did to Kate exactly what date rapists do to their victims, he was actually taking her to get help after an innocent prank. But when your safety was on the line … Then you weren’t willing to take any risks. Then you immediately assumed the worst about him”.

“You’re delusional! We didn’t talk yesterday at all!”

Kate interjected: “It’s okay, Max. I forgive her. Let’s not get angry over the past”.

“Forgive her for the both of us, then. Because I don’t. I won’t”.

Max turned to walk away but once again the sight of one of the mourners fuelled her anger. At that point, she wanted to feel angry. Anger staved off guilt. She approached the pastor. She remembered him from before her move to Seattle. The Prices and the Caulfields went to church together on Sundays. One of his sermons now rang loudly in Max’s head. It was about the people living on the edges of Arcadia Bay’s society. Homeless, runaway teenagers, drug addicts. He preached standard Calvinist filth. How the destitute and the sick deserved their lot in life for being sinners and how the youths who disobey their parents and use drugs have only themselves to blame when they inevitably turn up dead. To his credit, the pastor had at least one tiny shred of decency left and he didn’t repeat that sermon at Chloe’s funeral. Max asked him: “Reverend, what do you call a person whose blood washes away the crimes of unrepentant sinners?”

“Oh, Max. Don’t worry. By his blood, the sins of your friend are forgiven. She’s with him in heaven now”.

“No, you are wrong. By her blood you all were spared”.

Max left the cemetery. Warren ran after her.

“Woah, Max! That was … badass! I didn’t know you like that!”

Max kept walking. Warren walked next to her.

“Warren, are you blind? A beautiful, cool, strong-willed girl is into you. Why are you ignoring her?”

“You mean you’re into me, Max?”

“No, Warren. I obviously mean Brooke. There was a girl like that who was into me. I fucked it up. Don’t repeat my mistakes”.

“Oh … I know about Brooke. I just … you know, kind of benched her until the situation with you is resolved”.

“Wow. You are a player after all, Warren”.

He smiled. But Max had more to add.

“And I didn’t mean that as a compliment”.

He stopped smiling and fell behind.

Continue reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56245288/chapters/142889017

[pinkprincess717-blog1]

Life is Strange Chloe x Max (Pricefield) ⚠️‼️Fanfic!!! ‼️⚠️

Max had always been the one to rescue Chloe. Now it was Chloe’s turn.

Read here on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63509236

[lifeissimssnapshots]

🍁✨𝕒 𝕤𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕠𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕥✨🍁

follow for more! @lifeissimssnapshots

[patchodraws]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Life is Strange (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price Characters: Maxine "Max" Caulfield, Chloe Price (Life is Strange), Safi (Life is Strange: Double Exposure) Additional Tags: past pricefield, Hurt No Comfort, Exes, Character Study, Game: Life is Strange: Double Exposure (2024) Summary:

Max is tired. Tired of always being at the centre of these tragedies, tired of watching those she cares about die, and it feels like the world doesn’t want her to forget that for a second. After all, why else would it stop so suddenly and so endlessly right as she expects even a moment of reprieve?

But there is no reprieve. Not a shred of it in sight. Here at Caledon, Safi was her reprieve. The beauty of winter — so different from the slush she used to get on the west coast — was her reprieve. And…

Her gaze darts to her phone, charging on her desk. It wouldn’t be so hard to call, she supposes. Her number’s still saved, and as the world keeps taking from her, she’s reminded of the one thing she was given over a decade ago.

A second chance.

A second chance, and she blew it.

*

Safi is dead, and the one person Max wishes she could talk to about it hates her.

[izmissi]

I just posted chapter 2 of Somewhere Only We Know AmberPriceField Fic✨

[lenorenevermore99]

Posting the uncolored version of [this] drawing cause I don't like how I colored it

[inky-snowdrop]

Two Pairs of Star-Crossed Lovers

A Life Is Strange and Until Dawn Oneshot/Poem

Pairings: Chloe Price/Max Caulfield (Pricefield), Chris Hartley/Josh Washington (Climbing Class)

Rating: T (13+)

(canon typical violence)

Originally Posted on Ao3: May 16th, 2019

🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers

See the butterfly drift away with the breeze,

It’s wings beating lightly and without a sound,

Causally and lazily making it’s way out of their view.

Amongst the broken bottles and sweet grass,

Strewn out against the snow and wooden totems,

They laugh and flash toothy grins,

The tiny insect quickly forgotten as the sun begins to set.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers

Share a past prior to the events that have yet to unfold,

Becoming friends,

Accomplices to each other’s crimes,

As children, no less.

Blue permeates the soul’s of these children;

Two the color of the purest sky reflecting the bay’s water.

The others, an indigo darkness shrouded by fog and smoke

Hidden high in the mountains.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Guardians of the light in the human spirit

And the darkness in the human soul.

Two within the past,

Changing what could not be changed

And visiting planes of reality not yet discovered nor explored by humankind.

Magic, the most pure and yet deadly kind, is their ally.

Two predicting the future,

Choices that seem small and insignificant

Carving into the lives of every person upon the accursed land.

Not magic, oh no.

Curses linger near, always watching, always listening.

Ghosting across the physical and mental worlds like a disease ready to take hold.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

From across the harbor and into the town,

Filled with a sticky heat and the smell of fire making love to the Earth,

Comes a celestial being and her magnificent gifts.

Powerful is she,

Auburn hair angular and good,

Time and space lingering upon her fingers.

She knows not how this power came to be hers,

And yet it still chose her.

Her other,

For there is always another,

Is a fallen angel,

Giant wings of butterfly blue growing from her spine and drifting into her hair to ravage wildly about her pale face.

They, the chosen and her angel, embody the world of the past,

Bravely trusting Fate herself to bring their dreams of being together to the light of day.

Sadly, Fate tends to have a sense of humor.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Hailing from the frost lands of the North,

Where it is not uncommon for men, women, and children to betray their human nature,

A puppeteer watches quietly from the shadows as his trap has been laid.

Revenge plays heavily upon his string pulled mind,

Smile charming and deceiving, eyes shining and full of suffering,

None can see behind the laughs;

None can see the hatred that boils within.

Mistake number one.

The other,

Trusting and naive,

Hopelessly in love though destiny dictates otherwise,

Can read through the strings and gauze of his partener like one might read a book.

A ghost of his former body,

Sorrow binding and chaining him down to the Earth as he desperately claws for breath though he cannot give up hope;

He must never rest.

For what friend (what partener) would he be if he abandoned the puppeteer now?

Mistake number two.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Each trapped forever,

In a never ending cycle of

What is,

What was, and

What will be.

Or, perhaps the most daunting of all,

What COULD be.

All four trapped in a web of their own design,

The vibrant azule wings that once held the aloft ripped and mangled at their feet.

All four embracing the storm that howls and shrieks at them,

Faces flushed from fear of the unknown and voices hoarse from screaming back at the wild rain and snow.

All four bonding through a love created in the innocence of childhood that was cultivated and fed as they aged;

The effects of their death-marked love not only echoing about their bedrooms with sighs and gasps, but also out into other places and other realities that go on forever.

All four sharing an early grave;

Hair wet and lips cracked and bleeding;

A concussed head and crushed limbs, if not completely ripped from their original homes.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers,

Destinies changing as rapidly as the wind changes course.

And as the storm dies, the screeching lowering to a hum during the afterglow of it’s rage,

It takes with it the souls of two of the children, their bodies physically broken or mutated beyond repair

And it takes the remaining children’s spirits, leaving them behind sobbing and hallowed remains of the people they used to be.

Forever craving,

Forever yearning,

Forever alone.

Two pairs of star-crossed lovers

Await the beat of the butterfly’s wings

As the sun begins to rise,

Praying that the storm that will soon follow will not be their last.

And,

If it is,

Try to find solace in each other’s arms

One last time.

🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦

🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀🪦🥀