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nightklok · 4 years ago

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TELL ME ABOUT HOW YOU WRITE PICKLES AND CHARLES PLEASE ;0; what are you inspirations for their dynamic? you write them so in love and it makes me immensely happy

Thank you firstly, means a lot because writing them happy brings me so much joy-even if I probably wrote more angst than fluff of them at a point-jkfl

I have answered Pickles here so I’ll write about Charles and why I write them together with the way I do! :D

Charles

I feel like Charles has a lot more emotions/feelings than the show tries to give him credit for (I like to think that by season 4, he learned to be a little be more emotional around the boys enough as he learned that it’s okay to be a bit emotional if he needs to around them BUT then Doomstar completely wrecked him)

I really adore trying to write characters that are normally stoic in the show into more gentler/emotional people. I feel like the DVD extra of him taking calls and season 4/Doomstar shows he can be emotional! He has friends outside of Dethklok, his own hobbies/interests, definitely feels something and I don’t think my idea of him is really all that far fetched. He’s not just some asshole in a suit and while he has done questionable things, 9/10 it’s for the sake of Dethklok and not himself (Whoops forgot about Melmord here but even then I think Charles isn’t being selfish because he really does know he’s the only one that keep them in control-Melmord is just a snake oil salesman in a non-existent clown costume or something-)

I do keep in mind that he is a serious person and most likely is even when around people he completely trusts. He’s a person who can be a bit hard to read but he’s also not that hard when you actually get to know him and really know where to look when talking to him. Also I do headcanon that he is autistic but that’s for another story i think

He’s a character that even though I know is emotional inside, he does have to keep a stoic/non-expression look to him on the surface. He has the most important job in his life and he’s well aware of it. Being emotional/expressing anything but seriousness could possibly endanger him and Dethklok. It’s probably not by much because I do think even when he is emotional and can express himself, it’s still controlled to a degree. He can’t just let himself completely break in front of someone, he wouldn’t allow that at all. I’d imagine he’d have to pretend that he only sees them as coworkers and nothing else or that the band would have to do the same to him or there would be kidnapping attempts. there probably is anyway on a yearly basis but thanks to him, it’s near impossible to do that as they do have highly trained klokateers.

But I still believe even regardless of that that it must get exhausting at times. A warm bed and wanting to sleep in is something that everyone desires to do at least once but they have to get up early and go to work or do whatever they need to do. Charles is human and he’s a human has needs like everyone else. I feel that he does probably have the days where just sleeping in sounds like a wonderful thing to do or that there are stressful days where he’d just need a long bath or something. Because of this, I don’t really seem him as aggressive or overly dominant when off work and in a relationship. Having to take care of a band and basically the world’s economy is exhausting. If he just wants to be taken care of, let him!!

Basically what I’m saying is let the guy take a nap

I do like to try and base off characters/writing off real people/situations so I think I gotta say Brian Epstein who managed the Beatles really helped in figuring out how Charles is like as a manager to Dethklok-I really began researching him around the time I got into the show because of class and it was interesting reading about him and I honestly think he’s one of the best band managers I heard of (next to Peter Grant of course-). I do also relate to Charles in some level though the patience he has I think is really almost inhumane because wow-

I kinda did write Chickles first before this so i might be repeating? So I’ll just leave this as it is but either way, I just like writing him as a little bit more emotional/down to earth. I get that it might be OOC a bit but I feel like the aggressive/dominant part is a little bit way too OOC-

Chickles

I honestly wonder why I write them so in love too if i have to be honest dsflkj

To answer what the inspirations; i feel like a huge factor into why I write them the way do (and probably any other ship) is because while i have had the feeling of falling in love before, i never really had the experience of being in a romantic relationship or went anywhere even close to that with someone. I feel like this is kinda obvious but its about the yearning I kinda do fantasize what it must be like but I do also take what I have learned/read/seen from either relationships I know of personally or seen in media and apply to them. I take both toxic and good relationships to see what I do/don’t want to write when it comes to relationships and what they would/wouldn’t do. I don’t use toxic relationships to completely shape a relationship but rather analyze it, see why it’s toxic in the first place, and see what I can do to either when I write relationships/pairings in general. Obviously I use Addams family’s Morticia and Gomez as a base for writing good relationships in general because who wouldn’t???

I also think writing terribly written Chickles fanfics and even ones with Charles probably help to in writing Charles. Are they near uncomfortable and make me wanna take a shower after reading them? Yes-but reading them not for entertainment/knowing what you’re getting into and then thinking about why you didn’t like it honestly helps in keeping a character in check. Not something I recommend for works that can potentially trigger you but for for those fics that just don’t nail their character right, can be useful in knowing how you don’t want to portray a character/relationship. It can be VERY easy to make Chickles a toxic pairing if you don’t know how to handle them right. Having a character like Charles be with someone like Pickles can be easy to butcher if someone doesn’t really study their characters. Charles doesn’t have to be completely dominant nor is he a Christian Grey-like character that doesn’t seem to know how to properly communicate with his partners. And Pickles is definitely not a weak, submissive person and is stronger/braver than anyone gives him credit for when writing those relationships. I like to think that while one may be a little more dominant/in control of the relationship, they are complete equals. If one needs to be taken care of, the other will step in and help them out.

Writing them that they had knew each other in the Snakes N’ Barrels era/80s has always been basically canon to me too! So I guess it just makes it also a lot easier to write them as in love when I set the stories in dethklok/present day; whatever problems that they had in the beginning that they fear the other might judge/yell/misunderstand for would be long since resolved/handled by the time the show aired. Whether they actually date or not by then kinda depends on the story but either way, they would have a strong relationship. They would have learned about each other, their problems and who they are inside and out. They fall in love with the little things they do and learn to handle any pet peeves with them but accept them as who they are. They have gone through so much together behind the scenes and their relationship to each other probably is one of the few that hasn’t changed when Dethklok got incredibly famous.

Season 3 and onward might be a different story. Though it’s not because of personal grievances but more of just the topic of keeping secrets & not telling the truth when they would’ve most likely been so honest with each other before. And honestly that’s what makes it REALLY devastating to write about; Pickles would know jackshit for at least a few years (Assuming that Season 3 & Season 4 took place within 3 years at best.) and I don’t think watching someone you really love/care about die in front of you, then come back less than a year later and refuse to talk about why they’re here and give vague/cryptic answers is gonna put things back to normal. (Maybe one day I’ll finish that fic I poured near 10,000 words in-).

And honestly it’s probably where I would like to explore on their relationship the most but it’s just so damn complex and detailed that I definitely need a lot of time to work on. They’d both want things to go back to normal but by Charles coming back, it signaled that things weren’t as what they used to be and that they most likely won’t be. What used to be a relationship based on comfort, familiarity, and a predicted unpredictability, has become something much more than neither of them have either prepared for. They’ll have to work hard to move past it and accept that like their relationship, things won’t be like they used to be. But with how much time they have spent together and that they still love each other regardless, they’ll be able to go through with this and get their happy ending!! (And I guess this is why I evolved from ‘definitely not the marrying type’ to ‘yeah they definitely get hitched after galaktikon’ because charles and pickles have probably signed a lot of important documents all their lives, so signing a marriage certificate that binds them to each other would be the most sentimental/important document he’s ever signed.)

All in all,they have such good potential writing because it’s just easy to write them for me. From their first meetings to first relationship to getting to be signed to Dethklok, I feel like they have something I probably won’t be able to replicate in other ships. They are an absolute joy to write and getting to explore.

God i could go on forever about them but im gonna stop dlfskj

#lampmeeting #Insomniac Coffee Talks [asks]#god did any of this make sense #who the fuck knows #i hope this makes sense #thanks for asking!! :D #headcanon: charles foster offdensen #pairing: chickles

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citialiin · 5 years ago

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FIVE SONGS

list five songs associated with your muse and its meaning to them as a character, or to you as the writer. this can be applied in-character or out-of-character. it can go as deep as looking at the song’s real-world origins or meaning along with the themes it carries to the muses’ story, values, or experiences, or as simple as if your muse would listen to this kind of music, or even if you just listen to these pieces for inspiration.

TAGGED BY: @dansiere, who did such a good detailed job they even included an “honorable mentions list” ? i am embarrassed to type mine out now TAGGING: @blossomingbeelzebug @zhrets @dirtyfilthysunshine @prcphesise @hyakiru @foxcharmed

01. kaun komsott - ros sereysothea

this song actually lyrically has absolutely nothing to do with ziggy !!!! kaun komsott / កូនកំសត់ actually just means “poor/pitiful child” it’s just a khmer dub of a song from a taiwanese movie lol but i feel like this is the kind of music he would listen to that made him fall in love with, like ... humanity, as dumb as that sounds. it’s time period appropriate (late 60s/early to mid 70s), the song is really good and it’s SO emotional. i could see him sitting in the apartment of his bandmates after being “found” and they teach him how to use the record player and he sits there going through each and every record they have and listening to this and its like the fucking scene in ratatootie where the goddamn rat can visualize tastes as colors but he would be so enamored with the song he would see it in colors or something i dunno. something has definitely fucking happened to my brain because ever since nat and alex and i rewatched ratatootie we keep referencing it for our characters. anyways i ended up using an instrumental of kaun komsott in the final film i made as the song that plays during the end. so this song just also means a lot to me because it’s part of how i made this character and the film/story i animated to go along with him, i am sure you are all absolutely sick of hearing me talk about it <3

02. who can i be now - daveed booweyywywy now you found me, now can I be real? can I be real? if it’s all a vast creation / putting on a face that’s new someone has to see / a role for him and me someone might as well be you

one of z’s most obvious character motifs is figuring out self identity through adopting different guises. he markets himself as being so overly confident and almost arrogantly certain of himself -- rock god space idol whatever -- as his own way of learning who he thinks he might be underneath it all. i think at first it started off a little innocuous, a ‘ fake it till u make it ’ thing at the least and maybe more obviously a ‘ im not a human so i have to pretend to be someone else ’ deal, but over time it became almost all consuming and just obliterated all his previously held sense of self in favor of some weirdly demented version of who he wanted to be. 683 starts off with the same core personality traits as ziggy: maybe he’s a little vain, a little selfish, but he’s very interested in creativity/self-expression and he wants to be thought of as a unique individual and appreciated for his differences. but the difference is that 683 isnt an arrogant asshole who has no regard for other people in the slightest. so yeah ... who can u be now ... is it worth it to adopt a different guise or should he go through the effort of figuring out what parts of his personality were corroded by human influence and what parts are genuinely him? my big endgame thoughts for his story would be that he eventually just decides to retire from the public eye and fucks off entirely. this would be over the course of a long long long time -- maybe he has a good 20 yr run in the industry -- but there are some things about him he has to deal with (mental health issues, drug addiction, also the fact that you’re a freaky alien creature who doesnt age like a human so you’re physically like 46 and you still look like you’re 25?) so he inevitably decides he doesnt need the horrible pressure of fame and he ought to just live his life for himself. i think this would be a nice final song for him to sing/perform -- then he goes into the dressing room and cuts his hair and just vanishes. bye.

03. sunny afternoon - the kinks Help me, help me, help me sail away Well give me two good reasons why I oughta stay 'Cause I love to live so pleasantly Live this life of luxury Lazing on a sunny afternoon

1. i think this would sound A LITTLE like the kind of music he would write/play albeit i feel like his would be more exciting and have more samplings of like laser noises or pewpewpew or weird spaceship sounds BUT. its also pretty time period appropriate. even in “modern” verses ziggy is inexplicably obsessed with the 1970s, he likes bell bottoms and thinks groovy patterns are neat and he owns too many lava lamps. anywayz. 2. just the general idea of feeling unfulfilled with luxury -- even if ziggy enjoys his fame and wealth and the absolutely insane amount of pussy/dick he gets at some level he is still cognizantly aware of how weirdly empty he feels. he ditched atomina and came here because he felt unfulfilled and bored and unwanted. now he feels wanted (clearly, everyone loves him) and he feels entertained (earth is So Good at fun distractions) but his fulfillment still isnt quite there. he’s getting there -- but in exchange of being able to live this life of fame, he’s had to kind of change everything about himself and live this almost caricature version of himself, and he knows he cant keep it up forever. the luxury will run out one day and he’ll be a washup and no one cares about celebrities once they stop being hip. it is literally only a matter of time before ziggy has to find out who he is because no one can be a “rockstar” forever.

04. i hate jimmy page - mindless self indulgence SUCKAS CAN REACH OUT TOUCH ME EAT ME BITE DA FUTURE & FUCK DA PAST I'm lower than most animals and fear what might be weird and all those voices in my head have every right to be there i ain't a girl just cause i rock the boat i ain't a boy just cause i rock your world

i mean he does hate jimmy page but that’s beside the point. its just a good song about being a crazy rockstar and has the same Craziness that i feel like accompanies his character ... just go listen to it you will understand. there is nothing to explain here. even the lyric “ill show u how official midgets jack me off” like just accept it. it’s whatever but yeah i aint a girl i aint a boy ... i guess his gender (or lack thereof) never really comes up in rp but its still an important part of his character. if any of u guys ever call him a man in prose again ill kick ur ass. gender is like an accessory to him and he just takes whatever aspects of masculinity/femininity he prefers and discards everything else. to him he’s just as much a “man” or a “woman” as he is a “human” which is to say he isnt, at all, and he just pretends to be because he feels obligated to. also ziggy’s brain kind of sounds like this...just Noises. his brain sounds like a microwave that’s been going off for 26 years. i think his brain is a single uncooked pinto bean rolled in glitter that’s been left in a box with a cobweb

05. ghostride - crumb daydreaming I stay in the backseat / the slow beat rocks me back to sleep keeps me on automatic press my face up close against the glass i see the people when they pass they move so automatic you wake up when I go down / the radio reminds me I'm alive we've been hearing it all night

i care more about 683 on atomina than i do about ziggy on earth sometimes (BUT I CARE THEM BOTH. DO U?) so ... 683 feeling aimless and drifting but trying to find purpose through passion, a person, some sort of concrete meaning -- going through the motions of life makes him feel empty he spends almost every day going through the same toil while feeling guilty or like a burden and also feeling like he’s ultimately nothing more than a replaceable cog in a machine. his species had a near extinction = bottleneck which made them so genetically similar they’re almost clones of each other. no one ever seems to do anything wrong except him, he finds no joy or fulfillment in anything at all. all he ever wanted (which isnt a selfish desire at all) was to feel purpose, or feel wanted, or appreciated. inevitably he leaves because of his own imagination -- he yearns for something More, and he doesn’t know What, so he figured he ought to at least Try instead of waste his life away. also atomina is supposed to sound like “automatic.” do NOT make fun of my bad scifi. i am trying to mimic the way 1970s scifi is endearingly cheesy. come here. i just want to touch you with this knife. gently tho it wont go inside of you. bro you are bleeding. bro we are bleeding and i keep putting the knife in your soft parts.

#once again under the cut because i cant do memes without making them essays dawg!#i just have Things to say about zippy #also thank you so much for tagging me ... i know i take 200 years to do memes but i love them u_u #i did a meme like this earlier so i picked a new set of songs #KEEP YOUR 'LECTRIC EYE ON ME ; queue

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hybridfanfiction · 6 years ago

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Owner Training

So, this was just supposed to be another prompt, but it spiraled out of my control and became its own little drabble. Maybe I’ll make it a series because I like this Yoongi. He’s a cute lil brat. Also, YAY I WROTE SOMETHING!!

Word Count: 1082

You ran from your car to the door of your apartment, anxious to be out of the cold. It had been absolutely miserable all week and you couldn’t wait for the rain to go away already. Your shivering hands made unlocking the door a chore, but you finally managed it, slamming it shut behind you.

As you shed your jacket and kick off your shoes, you slowly begin to realize you are not just getting warm, you are getting toasty. The heater was cranked up in your apartment. You were so pissed at yourself because you’d just worked an eight hour shift during which you left your heater on all day long.

Deciding the damage was already done, you leave it be, reasoning that you still had to go switch into warm clothes before you could brave another temperature change.

With a weary sigh, you walk to your room and flip on the light, only to freeze in your tracks.

There was someone in your bed.

You walk slowly towards the silent lump that had only a flash of black hair peeking through the blanket burrito they’d rolled themselves into. The only person you could think of that would just help themselves into your home was your brother Jimin, but he never went anywhere without his dog hybrid, and there was definitely only one person in the bed. Deciding that it wouldn’t be wise to get too close, you pick up the curling iron off your vanity and use it to poke the lump.

“Jiminie? That you? Get out of my bed.”

The blanket burrito began to grumble and suddenly two fluffy black ears popped out.

Wait, ears?

You clenched the curling iron tighter and poked the lump again.

“Dude, up.”

Long and elegant fingers crept out of the blankets to pull some down enough to show their face as the person who was definitely not Jimin glared at you.

“I was having a good dream too, what the fuck.”

“Yoongi?”

The black cat hybrid sighed and slowly unraveled himself from the blankets, rolling until he sat on the side of the bed and scratched his ear.

Yoongi was a stray hybrid that you passed almost every day as you left for work. He lived in the park next to the complex and you’d developed a habit of leaving food for him or just saying hello when you were in a bit of a rush. On your days off, you’d sometimes go and watch him while he played his battered keyboard, trying to sneak huge tips into the box he always set out. If you ever put anything larger than $20, he would glare at you and demand you let him help you with a chore or something because, “I’m not an asshole,” he’d declare as his long and fluffy tail flickered in irritation. You’d always thought he was the cutest thing.

But that didn’t explain why he was here.

“Yoongi, how did you get in my house?”

“You left the window open. Who does that in the middle of a storm? I mean, besides the rain getting in, any weirdo would see a first floor window and just help themselves to your shit.”

“Good point,” You deadpanned, dropping the curling iron onto the end table.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, indicating that he caught your sarcasm and chose not to acknowledge it. He stood up and fixed the comforter before walking out of the bedroom.

“I figured the least I could do is guard the place,” he answered so flatly that you knew he was just covering up his desperation. You could hear the slight hoarseness to his voice, showing signs of a cold. The poor thing was probably sick and freezing and saw your open window like the answer to a prayer. You knew Yoongi well enough to know that he’d never admit anything though.

“Don’t worry. I showered before using the bed, so it’s still clean,” he said as he walked to your kitchen, you following dumbly behind him.

What were you supposed to say or do in this situation? You couldn’t kick him out or you’d feel like an asshole since it was storming outside, but he should know better than to just break into people’s homes.

You watched as he helped himself to your cabinets and set the already filled electric kettle to boil, apparently making tea.

“You don’t have a hybrid, right? I can’t smell any in here, and I never smell any on you,” Yoongi’s voice knocks you out of your thoughts and you catch his amused grin as you struggle to refocus.

“Uh, no. No hybrids. My brother brings his by sometimes, but that’s it.”

“Do you...like hybrids?” Yoongi sounds nervous for the first time, and you wish you could see his face, but he’s already turned back to preparing the tea.

“Of course. I’ve just never gotten around to looking for one of my own.”

The silence over the next few minutes as he finishes preparing the tea is nervewracking. You feel like there is something he's trying to get you to say, but you couldn't figure out what.

Yoongi slides a cup towards you, staring at you like he could see into your soul.

“You seem like you’d be a good owner. Maybe. After a little training.”

The sip you’d taken suddenly goes down the wrong pipe and you sputter, coughing and banging your chest as you stare at him incredulously.

“Excuse me? What would I need training for? You’re the one breaking into peoples homes like you’re god damn Goldilocks.”

Hah, good one. Point to you.

Yoongi merely smugly grins and downs his own tea in one gulp before walking back to the bedroom as he scratches his belly.

“There’s nothing for it. I’ll have to be your hybrid. Finish your tea, take a shower, and come to bed.”

Yoongi enters the room, leaving you in a state of - you didn’t even know. Shock, disbelief, and yet...a strange yearning. Not knowing what else to do, you drink your tea like you’ve been told and head to the shower, preparing to apparently spend your first night as an owner.

Although, you weren’t sure who actually owned who.

#hybrid #hybrid au #au #hybrids #hybrid!bts #cat hybrid!yoongi #bts scenarios #hybrid!yoongi #bts #hybrid fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #hybrid bts

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chanteya · 5 years ago

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Dark Nights NSFW Headcanons - Zeikun

NSFW Headcanons for Dark Nights - Zeikun

Welcome to my ted talk (xD) There i will let my imagination go out with this Zeikun headcanons which are clearly what i think would suit him but welp thats my opinion everyone else can think otherwise (shrug). Anyway hope you will enjoy it anyway xD

A- Z thing doesnt belong to me. I also allowed myself to not answer on some letters due of me lacking the ideas on few of them. Also for sake of this HC’s im using female form when talking about S/O

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex) - Oh boy. - This guy and aftercare…. - Gentle touches - Definitely would swoop S/O in his arms and cuddle with her. Bear hugs and a lot of affection and protectiveness kicking in. - Soft kisses on S/O shoulder/neck/nape and not only - If that was messy, he would help S/O clean up. - Loving bath? - Overprotectiveness kicking in overall. Hes loving boyfriend/husband.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) - His favourite part of his body? Who knows? - His favourite part of S/O body? Guess. :P

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) I am not this disgusting to talk about cum. Sorry.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) - He secretly loves when S/O touches his horns, but he never told about it to anyone. - Secretly loves the moments when his S/O tries to show a tiny bit of dominance even if she fails he still likes the tries.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) - If he wouldnt be a demon i would say hes inexperienced, but he is demon… he lives for looong time even if in forest who the hell knows what he was doing sometimes. - I doubt highly he is inexperienced so i would say he has some kind of experiences on NSFW topic~ - You know. Demons may have knowledge on this stuff from birth ;)

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual) Who knows. ;) (Im not that experienced to know the position names or how to describe them so everyone will get what i mean :p)

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc) - Heh. Depends. - Jealous? or maybe something risky happened? Oh well… He will be serious. - Normally i doubt he would be serious except situations that i wrote up~ - He would be a tiny bit silly, straight-forward with some stuff- - T e a s e~

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) Does he even know he need to groom his hair there? Better question Does he even has hair there? X to doubt :O

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) - Veeeeery intimating ;)

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon) - Zeikun and Jacking off, piss off not his thinghe prefers to do it with S/O than try satisfy himself with mere hand x)

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) - He likes when you pull him by his collar - Honestly i can imagine him developing master - maid kink. - Edging (Not allowing S/O to come until he will say she can cum ;P More might be added later ;0 - Sense deprivation (handcuffs, blindfolds)

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do) - Obviously Forest ;) Eventually in S/O house if they dont want to be seen

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) - Soft kisses on his neck (in places where S/O actually can place them and arent covered by collar) - Nibbles on his sensitive ears - Soft S/O gasps

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) - BDSM is a BIG NO. Zeikun couldnt hurt S/O because of his protective nature - Nothing that could hurt S/O even if she likes something that is dangerous he simply wont do it. Sorry if you are maso and searching for pain-

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc) - He prefers to give the pleasure to S/O - He doesnt mind receiving though- - Demon… what else to say about his skill? ;) - S/O would have great night~

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) - Depends. - He actually would start with slow and sensual… to just get to know his freshly discovered “teritorry”. - If he discovers what S/O likes - he gets fast and rough, unless S/O doesnt like it this way he goes still slow and sensual. - However it also depends on his mood… and S/O mood so he might go however S/O will like it ;)

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.) - Not a big fan of quickies, but rarely he will do them anyway.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) - He doesnt feel like to get risky with their moments… - However he could take risks if S/O would be okay with it. - He personally wouldnt take risks.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…) - Demon. Thats all i have to say ;) - He could go few rounds as long as S/O will feel like it.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) - Pffff. Zeikun and toys. He is forest demon, and he would have to know there are sex toys? - He would only learn about these from S/O probably… - He could get some maybe, - And he could use them to tease S/O more.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) - Im sorry, for me he is big tease material. Even if he is loving boyfriend he has no mercy in teases, straightforward asshole likes to play a bit - also preparing S/O this way before they will consume their love ;)

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make) - I doubt he would be loud. - He would let out soft gasps

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice) ;)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words) ;) Big boy with also big friend in his pants wht you excepted ;)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) - His sex drive is high, but he doesnt throw himself on S/O whenever he wants something more

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) - Not really quickly. There is a lot of time to cuddle with S/O, whisper sweet words, have small talk. Loving soft kisses… maybe exchange of soft smiles on S/O goofing softly. ;)

#darknights #dark nights #visual novel #otome #Zeikun

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orionwhispers · 6 years ago

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Devil Like Me - Part XVI

(A/N - Forgive me friends. It’s been far too long. My mental and physical health has been in the worst state its ever been and life really got in the way. I tried to take a hiatus and almost swore of writing as a whole but you know what? It really fucking helps and I love it. I know how long you guys have waited and Im sorry I'm such an asshole, please enjoy this VERY late christmas present. I love you all. Please please please don’t forget to tell me what you think it means the world to me, my ask is always open xoxo) - also sorry if there are any mistakes I'm half asleep and a whole ass mess. love you forevs)

Then

Klaus’ hands are so tight around his steering wheel his knuckles start to turn white; mirroring the moon that follows overhead. His teeth are gritted, the vein in his throat pulsating and his breath quickening. He only calms down when his eyes flit to the rearview mirror, pupils slowing over the figure slumped in the backseat, waiting and watching for any sign of movement. He’s never been one to control his anger, the thousands of people he’s killed speak for themselves, his hands coated in more blood than a butcher, but one look at you makes his undead heart stop.

Bruises the colour of blooming violets and roses litter the delicate skin around your neck, your leg is oddly contorted and swollen, and there are gashes and wounds scarring your body. Technically, your heart stopped beating a few moments after you made contact with the ground, but he can still smell the dried blood tainting your injuries, as tantalisingly delicious as summer berries. The hybrid side of him, the animalistic, carnivorous side of him longs to tear his fangs into your flesh and drain you of blood like its cherry wine, but he knows he never will.

Once upon a time, nothing would have stopped him. The very first time he laid eyes on you, you should have been dead instantly, nothing more than a midnight snack as he made his way out of town, but it wasn’t that simple. Something changed in him that night, somehow as you made your way towards him under the cover of moonlight, trying to be brave despite cowering in fear, he felt something for the first time in a long time. That made him want to kill you even more, he despised not being in control, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt you.

Now here you both were.

He had turned hundreds of people in the centuries he had lived, and not once had he cared if they made it through the transition. They were completely dispensable, he fed them his blood and turned them solely for his own personal gain, nothing more. They were nothing but pawns to him, alliances in cities all over the world, minions forever at his beck and call.

He had never felt red hot anxiety prickling under his skin as he waited impatiently for signs that you had awoke, never felt panic and bile in his throat at what might happen if you didn’t. All of these feelings were foreign and unwelcome, he despised not being in control, it made him feel powerless and weak, all things he knew he wasn’t. He gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might break as he continued down the empty country roads, the car bumping and tearing along the gravel. He felt fury like he had never felt before, rage that bubbled inside him like lava, threatening to spew over.

He had killed the witch he reminded himself, torn her head from her spine and watched her blood stain the oak floor. She was gone for good, ordering his inferiors to burn her body in the woods ensuring she would never come back. None of that diminished the hatred in his head though, he had been reckless and stupid, he should have killed her the very first chance he got. He was so sure he could have protected you, but his feelings for you made you vulnerable and he had almost lost you due to his own greed.

He would never come that close again.

He looked up to the mirror once again, and immediately calmed at the sight of you, his whole body relaxing like waves smoothing onto the shore. He would never let anything happen to you. A feeling washed over him, one that had been rising in his insides since the very first day he met you, it was like his overprotective nature towards his siblings, but heightened. You two were bound, something had drawn him to you, something inside you had unlocked his emotions again, and it was euphoric.

He glanced at you, the curve of your bitten lips, the arch of your nose and the shadow of your eyelashes cast onto your battered cheek. He didn’t believe in God, or fate or destiny, but he believed in you. You were his and he was yours. That was all the faith he needed. His blood was the thing keeping you alive, coursing through your body, making you sired to him. Maybe it was wrong, he knew that vampirism was a curse, that you hadn’t been able to make the choice for yourself, but this way you had an eternity together. Whatever you wanted, anything you desired, he would get for you. He wanted to take you to places in the world, bring you to his favourite hidden spots and secret escapes, show you culture, art, museums, spend evenings under candlelight and mornings with sun bathing your tangled limbs. He wanted it all, and he wanted it with you, only you.

He made a vow that night, as the car bounced across dusty roads, raindrops splattering along the windshield. He made a vow that, no matter what, he would never let you regret turning that night, he would give you the world and more. He knew he would get it wrong sometimes, he was possessive, easily jealous and sensitive. He could be argumentative, violent and overprotective, but he would never take it out on you. He would help you through the transition, be by your side through anything, because as he drove further into the night, he realised how much you meant to him and what the feeling taking over him was… Love.

Now

You sat on your haunches, cradling your knees with your arms and peering out of the large bay windows watching the sky change with every passing minute. It had been a couple of days since the prank night and the first successful hybrid transformation, but you were feeling less than celebratory.

Klaus’ happiness was infectious. It always had been, his wide toothy grin and contagious laugh always made your insides light up like a furnace. Klaus had a reputation, he was the most powerful being on the planet, and he made sure everyone was aware of that. Speaking his name alone was enough to make even the most impressive of vampires cower with fear. You were one of the lucky few that had seen the other side of him, whilst you were familiar with his ruthless, barbaric and ferocious ways you were blessed to see the side that was hidden from most.

He was without a doubt the funniest person you had ever met, always able to make you crack a smile no matter how down you were feeling. He was playful and flirtatious, whispering teasing words into you neck when you both attended lavish dinner parties, making you blush and giggle into your palm. Mornings in bed were filled with lighthearted banter and funny anecdotes of his past, and he always had a witty comeback whenever you were feeling argumentative. You had never met anyone like him and you knew no one could ever possibly compare.

That’s why it was so bittersweet to see him radiating with happiness. Even though you would never fully understand it, you knew that creating successful hybrids meant the world to Klaus and whilst you were pleased at his victory, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. It was clawing deep inside your gut, the feeling that something much bigger was going on, and you were both in the centre of it. Despite the animosity between the both of you, he was unable to stay away when he was so ecstatic, because you were the only one he wanted to share good news with.

The night everything happened and you all returned to the mansion to a bewildered Elijah and Kol, Klaus was practically bouncing off the walls with glee. You slunk in behind him with Rebekah, still on edge from the evenings events but more so from the uneasy butterflies in your stomach. On the car ride over, Klaus had opened the door for you and made you sit shotgun, he spoke loudly and animatedly into the phone to someone, beaming with pride as he discussed future plans.

As he finished the call and smiled widely, he reached for the gearstick before casually reaching over and placing his hand atop yours and squeezing your palm; making you instantly freeze. The touch lasted merely a few seconds but sent electricity through your whole body, his large thumb stroked over the delicate skin on the back of your hand and then he returned it to the steering wheel, placing another call as if it was nothing. You were sat unmoving, your mind racing and heart pounding at his sudden display of affection, nervous but still yearning for his touch, you didn’t know how to react and glanced up at the rearview mirror, catching sight of a gobsmacked Rebekah staring back with large eyes.

“Where have you all been?” Elijah asked, placing down his book and uncrossing his legs from his spot on the armchair.

“We’re celebrating, brother!” Klaus replied with a grin, reaching over to the bar and rummaging around the bottles of liquor, grabbing something dark and bitter looking.

Kol smirked, leaping over the cream coloured sofa and grabbing his own bottle, uncapping it and taking a swig, grinning at the taste. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

“Celebrating?” Elijah asked, shooting you a look, you shrugged exasperatedly, offering a wan smile of support as Rebekah linked her arm with yours and pulled you towards the fireplace, a bottle of wine in her arms and a knowing smirk on her perfect pink lips.

“We made history tonight, Elijah! Call up everyone you know, they’re going to want to be a part of this.” He held his drink above his head, a large smile on his beautiful face, practically illuminating the room with his happiness. He glanced around the room, nodding at each of the people gathered in it, finally settling on you. He placed the neck of the bottle to his lips, pausing as he said, `’To us.” He threw his head back and drank, and you could feel everyones eyes on you, burning holes into your head, you swallowed thickly and grabbed the bottle from Rebekah and took a long swig, relishing in the burning feeling at the back of your throat.

It was going to be a long night.

———————————————————

An hour or two passed, you were sat in the enormous kitchen, perched on a barstool away from the crowds, watching the party unfold around you. Klaus and his siblings must have called every witch, vampire and werewolf they knew in an 100 mile radius; as the house was practically heaving with people. Your glass was empty, and you ran a finger over the rim as you watched the guests fawn and gush over Klaus, congratulating him exaggeratedly. He relished in their attention, he was practically a God to them, and you knew it was beyond entertaining to him, watching them almost kiss his feet, desperate for his approval. Often, after encounters like this, Klaus would tease and mock these pathetic conversations in private to you as you laid in bed, making you giggle into his shoulder, but you didn’t imagine that would be happening tonight.

You put your head down, determined not to torture yourself with memories of the past, and decided to eavesdrop on the guests, tuning you're hearing and listening to the conversations around you. If you were going to sit and wallow in self pity, you might as well get some entertainment out of it. You were engrossed in a vampire from New York attempting to flirt with a disinterested Rebekah when you felt a presence beside you, instantly recognising the warm comforting smell of pine and bourbon.

“Something tells me you aren’t enjoying yourself.”

You smiled gently, not sure where to look, focusing on the tiny beads of wine at the bottom of your glass, round and plump like drops of blood. How did he make you this nervous, even after all this time? Regardless of the situation, even when things were perfect between you, he could make you blush and squirm like you were a child.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” You meet his gaze for a few seconds, feeling his eyes dart over your face, and you turn back to the glass, blushing as red as the wine. “No, I’m fine. Really I’m…” You think for a moment, plucking up the courage to say what you feel, turning back to him and taking control, 'I’m proud of you Klaus, really.” His eyes flicker with emotion, disappearing as soon as it appears, and you swallow, stifling a fake yawn. “I’m just tired, not really in a party mood if Im honest, I think I’m going to head to bed.” You swung your feet out from under the stool, ready to head upstairs to think in silence, when his large hand gripped your shoulder, fingers around your flesh.

“No,” he said, his voice was soft, but his tone was firm and explicit, making you stay rigid in your spot. “Stay,” he continued, ‘for me.” A second passed and his voice changed, softer and gentler, like new snow. “Please.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Your eyes met for a moment, lingering too long on one another, and you watched them glimmer and shine, mimicking the grin widening on his face. All thoughts you had in your head vanished, and you sat dumbfounded.

“Besides,” he said, reaching for a bottle of something dark and bitter looking and pouring it into your glass, “I need someone to help me carry Kol up the stairs later.” He joked, motioning to his younger brother who was completely intoxicated, dancing on the mahogany dining table.

“Klaus!” You squealed as your glass started to overflow with alcohol, copper coloured droplets sliding onto the table. You lurched forward to stop him from adding any more and looked up at him with wide playful eyes, “Stop it! Or else you’ll be the one carrying me to bed later!” The unplanned innuendo is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and you blush beet red at your comment, closing your eyes from embarrassment.

You feel him lean into you, hot breath on your skin, that god damn smirk rising on his beautiful face. “Don’t tempt me.”

If your heart was still beating it would be racing into oblivion, you melt at his words and it makes you grimace at how pathetic you can be towards him. His eyes meet yours over the rim of his own drink, and he takes a sip of bourbon. The smell instantly hits you and memories flood your brain, one glance at him and you know he’s thinking the same. Long nights, dancing until your feet bled, drunken kisses and skin glistening with sweat. You’re reminded of his whispers of affection, lips buried into your flesh, “I love you’s” shared under neon lights, the weight of his hips against yours, giggling into his hair, his possessive hands around your waist as you partied together,

He gives you one last dark, knowing look before he parts to talk to the rest of the guests and you bite your lip, staring down at your drink and then hastily reaching for it; downing it in one, Rebekah watching you intently.

—————-

That was a few days ago, and it replays in your head like a movie as you drum your fingertips against the windowsill. The party had been fun and everyone had been in great spirits, but as soon as your head reached the pillow, exhausted and exhilarated from the night, and you fell into a deep sleep, everything went back to normal. Klaus’ never allowed himself more than a moments rest, and you were sure he didn’t even sleep that night, rattling around the house, making phone calls and sending messages until the sun rose.

You had woken up to an empty house, and been informed by one of Klaus’ overzealous workers that everybody had left on their own private missions. To make matters even worse, when you tried to grab your coat and explore the town on your own, two of his henchmen grabbed your arms and told you they were under strict orders to keep you in the mansion. You obviously protested, but as you struggled to come free, the younger one looked at you and said through his compulsion, “If you leave, we have to kill ourselves.” At that you swore angrily and rolled your eyes, stomping back upstairs and flopping dramatically onto the bed. Fucking men.

Being left to your own devices was torture, and you couldn’t pry anything out of anyone during the stolen moments when they returned home and you were feeling utterly sorry for yourself. You had flicked through all the magazines you had found in Bekah’s room, watched hours and hours of mind numbing reality tv, and even scrubbed the bathroom until it shone, but the days still dragged and you were devastatingly bored.

You watched a wood pigeon dart onto a branch and exhaled loudly, tapping your feet to a made up rhythm, you paused mid step, ears twitching rapidly as you swore you could hear footsteps approaching. You twisted your body to the sound, waiting for the tell tale twist of the doorknob, and expecting it to be one of the servants, telling you that you were going to be alone for the nest few days.

Only it wasn’t, it was Klaus.

You stared dumbfounded at the man before you, even though it was his mansion, filled with people working for him and you were only there because of him, he was the last person you expected. He looked as beautiful as ever, tousled curls and flushed cheeks, and that damned cheeky smirk on his lips.

“Klaus?” You asked, sitting up straighter and messing with your clothes. You were wearing fuzzy leggings and an oversized sweatshirt you had stolen from Rebekah, and you had haphazardly thrown your hair into some kind of up-do, tendrils falling into your eyes. You brushed them behind your ears and glanced up at him, pink hitting your cheeks.

“What are you doing here?” You said, staring up at him, curling your toes in your fluffy socks.

He stared down at you, offering a smile that made your insides do flips, as he simply said “I have something to show you.”

———————————-

The garden was as beautiful as you remembered from your walk with Elijah all those weeks ago, and under the moonlight it looked magical. You glanced at the blooming flowers and decorative statues, borders of rose bushes and fragrant lavender, trailing your fingertips across them as you walked. You were so caught up in the beauty that you hadn’t noticed Klaus staring intently at you, watching you and your childlike wonder at everything that surrounded you. He felt the familiar sparks igniting inside him that only occurred around you, the heat in the pit of his stomach whenever he looked at you. He was amongst some of the most breathtaking and striking scenery but none of it came even close to you.

‘So, where is it you’re taking me?” You asked, your words snapping him out of his trance.

“Not too much further now.” Was all he offered, picking up his pace and rounding a corner towards an archway covered in vibrant indigo flowers. You were in awe of the colours and smell, bunches of pretty plants overhead, leading down a path towards something in the distance.

“Wow, Klaus. I’m impressed,” You teased, “I had no idea you were such an avid gardener.”

He rolled his eyes at you, quipping back. “Well, I’ve always had an eye for beautiful things.” He gave you a look before raising a brow and stepping further into the darkness.

You paused, unable to hide your flush and silently cursed him out. Damn him and his stupid looks and stupid words.

He was a ways in front of you, you could see his silhouette morphing into the distance and you turned on your heel to catch up. You dipped and dashed under the vines and petals, careful not to crush the grass underfoot as you chased after him, wondering when he got so fast. You were about to call out to him, when you came to a halt, exhaling in wonder. You could see the lines of his frame, his hands resting on the balcony of a regal stone gazebo, rustic and beautiful, overlooking a vast tranquil lake. It was stunning, and you tentatively stepped up, there was a marble bird bath in the centre and statues of cherubs and angles resting on arches above your head.

You stood next to Klaus, watching him gaze forward like a king surveying his kingdom, which actually wasn’t that far from the truth. It was so quiet, the lake was still and calm and reflected like a diamond under the moonlight, the stars twinkling above you both. You steadied, relaxing and gazing out at the lake. A moment of peaceful silence passed, and you heard Klaus fidget next to you.

“My family owned land here, in Mystic Falls.” You nodded, letting him continue. “We would often come here and stay, but I don’t have many fond memories of it here.”

You weren’t surprised. Klaus’ rarely opened up about his childhood but when he did, the anecdotes made your heart hurt, you knew how evil his dad was and how much of a challenge it was growing up.

“When I heard about the Petrova doppleganger living here I knew it wouldn’t be long till I was coming back. I thought I’d collect her and leave; be in and out of this town within a couple of days, but of course, nothing is ever that easy. The Salvatore brothers obviously had to get involved and some challenges rose up on my end as well.” He added, looking at you with a playful smirk.

You mirrored him, watching his face under the light of the moon, illuminating his sharp jaw and ocean eyes. His voice was as soft as the water beneath you as he spoke, “At first, I despised being back. Towns like these always stir up things… memories.” You know what he meant, Mystic Falls was a rainier, woodier, gloomier version of the town you had met and fallen in love in, it was like déjà vu, the small city life reminding you of the past.

“This house has been in my family for centuries, but nobody ever had any use for it. It was just sitting here, covered in dust.” He pauses, his eyes flitting over the scenery “I came out one day when I needed some air, and I found this spot hidden away.” You nod, listening to his words. “It was breathtaking. I had no idea it existed, no idea that all of this was out here. So much innocence in a town I’ve always despised.”

Thunder crackles overhead. A storm appearing, grey clouds looming in the dark of the night. A few stray droplets of rain fall onto the lake, you watch it form ripples and you sigh.

“It’s beautiful.”

A moment of silence. “It reminded me of you.” His voice is quiet, and you look at him, struck by his words, but he keeps his eyes away from yours. I had so much on my mind.” He says, letting out an exasperated laugh, finally turning to face you. “So much. The Doppleganger, the Salvatore’s, my siblings and that bloody hunter Saltzman. I thought for once you might be off my mind, that for once I could get something done without constantly thinking about you, but thats bloody impossible isn’t it?”

You gulp. Feeling completely bewitched under his gaze you are unable to do anything but stare at him, losing yourself in his eyes.

“It’s crazy how all of a sudden, all of my thoughts can turn to you, just by seeing something that rivals your beauty.”

You shudder.

“I wish I could lie and say that I haven’t spent every single day thinking about you, but I can’t. You drove me bloody insane. I thought I was losing my mind, nothing made sense without you.”

He gazes down at you, the rain pelting down now, droplets splashing across both of your faces as it bounces off the side of the gazebo. You’re inches apart now, the heat of your bodies mingle against each other and he can’t resist the urge to clasp your face between his palms. It sends fireworks through you both, his fingers are like electric wires torching through your skin.

“When I found out where you were I lost it. I’d gotten so used to the idea of never seeing you again, I thought it was my punishment. Penance for all the evil things I’ve done, karma taking away the only thing in my life I care about, no one like me deserves something so pure, so good.”

His fingertips graze along your cheekbone and you can feel your eyes welling up at his words, you’re breathless, wanting to explain everything, but he’s too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

“I needed you back, I didn’t care what I had to do, I had to have you. The idea that you were out there, possibly with another man…” his jaw clenches, “The thought of you with someone else, another bastard making you happy when it should have been me, it drove me crazy. I needed to see you, to touch you, to know you were safe.”

With hesitation he pushes himself off you, the pressure from his fingers leaving burn marks on your skin. He’s back to staring out at the water, the torrential rain and wind thundering around you, your hair whipping round your face.

“Klaus?”

“I hated you. Despised you for leaving me. I trusted you, and you left.”

“Klaus… please.” Your voice cracks, salty tears making their way down your face and catching on your lips.

“I didn’t want to look at you when you came back. When I knew you were safe I locked you in that room, I couldn’t bear seeing your face. Until I heard you crying.”

You think back to that very first night, overwhelmed, exhausted and emotional you collapsed into a heap of your own tears. You had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor, waking up in the plush bed. Someone had changed you and tucked you in, you had suspected it was Klaus, but know you were certain.

“I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but hearing you cry broke me. Knowing that i was the cause of your pain, it was too much. Seeing you after all that time… I realised I was a fool to think I could ever not love you.” The moon is wide and full, he watches it, almost as if the wolf inside can’t contain itself. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Forgive him? You almost look up to see if pigs are flying across the night sky. These aren’t the words you expect to hear from him.

“The way I’ve handled things has been… regrettable. I’m realising that now, I should never have treated you as if I owned you… it was wrong of me.”

You open your mouth to reply but he cuts you off, slicing through the dark like a blade.

“I’ve asked for all the spells to be removed, I’ve taken off my compulsion. You’re free to do as you like.”

He falls silent again and you can swear you see him visibly exhale with something, almost deflating, as if all the energy and power has been sucked out of him.

“What changed?” You ask, stepping towards him.

“I love you too much to keep hurting you.”

“Hurting me?” Love. Love. Love. He loves you, it fills you up like thick warm gooey honey, but it’s not as simple as it sounds.

“I’m letting you go.”

You falter, furrowing your eyebrows as you watch him, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“If you leave, I won’t follow you. I’ll… I’ll let you go… You’ll be free of me.”

“Klaus.” You begin, inching towards him, reaching out to grab his arm but he turns red, anger getting the best of him, the alpha hybrid clawing its way back to the surface.

“No. Just go! Tonight!” He bites his tongue, eyes filling with emotion and the vein in his throat pulsating rapidly, “Pack everything and leave before the sunrises, I… I can’t have you in the same house as me.”

“What if I don’t want to leave?” You bite, snapping him out of his own rant.

“Then you’re an idiot.” You scoff and resist the urge to give him the finger. “You know what I am. I’m a monster! I ruined us once and you know I’ll do it again. Leave! GO!”

He’s speaking with fury, crimson in the face. If you were anyone else you would be cowering with fear, terrified of the creature before you and everything he’s capable of, nut you know him better than anyone, and you aren't scared.

“You know what Klaus? If you hadn’t have brought me back, I don’t know if I would have ever returned.”

He swallows thickly, mouth agape, hurt in his beautiful eyes.

“Because I’m a coward, not because I stopped loving you.” You force him to look at you, taking his face in your hands this time, holding him firmly in place. “What I did… How I left… I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life. I thought I was doing the right thing, I never meant to hurt you.”

You rest your forehead against his, your breath hot and heavy. Its magnetic between the two of you, pulses synced and intertwined, the way you are supposed to be. Silence fills up the space between you both, thick like smoke, neither of you know what to say. You’re speaking through your eyes, domineering stares and hands gripped on one another, terrified to let the other slip away.

“I’m leaving for Portland tomorrow.”

“You are? Why?” You ask, lips milliermeters away from his own.

“There’s a pack of werewolves camping out, I’m going to go and have a talk with them.”

You give him a look, knowing exactly what that ‘talk’ is going to consist of. A lot of blood and arguing, possibly death.

“Besides, I didn’t know if you were going to leave, I didn’t want to be around if you did.” His voice was bashful, so rare to be heard coming from his lips. He pulls closer to you, his nose brushing yours, the rain still thrashing and thundering around you sending chills between you. He sounds so vulnerable, so innocent, as he mumbles against you, “Will you be there when you get back?”

You don’t answer. Instead you do the thing that you’ve craved since you saw him, you pulled him impossibly closer and kissed him. He was in shock, dazed by the taste of your familiar, enchanting lips, you were as addictive as bourbon, making him feel a high like no other. His hands on your hair, mouth opening to drink in as much as you as he could, what he would give to take you right then and there, but he knew he had to be patient. Under the moonlight and the claps of thunder and icy rain, you kissed feverishly and frenzied, he was possessive and dominant, marking you as his.

You were pressed up against one another, his hands clambering over you, on your tiptoes, desperate for as much of him as you could get, you had been starving for his touch for so long. You were breathing into one another, a mess of hair and sighs and fireworks that sparked under your skin. After a moment he pulled away, reluctant and breathless, resting his forehead against yours once more, bound to one another with invisible chains.

He looked up at you with big playful eyes, a mocking pout on his now swollen lips. “Does this mean we’re friends again?”

You exhaled, reaching for him and pulling him onto you again, burying yourself onto his lips with a teasing smile and a flirty wink, “I’d say we’re a little bit more than friends.”

—————-

to be continued….

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus imagine #klaus mikealson imagine #TVD #tvd imagine #the originals #the originals imagine

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svt-writers-club · 6 years ago

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😭😭😭😭i just read ur villian au jihan angst and hfksKFKSKKFKSLD IM SO WRECKED???? Do jisoo and jeonghan ever make up? What happens afterwards? Do jihoon and jeonghan rly stay together and does jisoo really just let jeonghan go??? I need to know 😭😭😭😭

>:3 i’m in a strange pining sort of mood so here’s some jihan with some jicheol muahahahahah (i also just wanted an excuse to write some sexy pining jicheol so sue me)

Seungcheol was born with fire in his veins. His earliest memory was setting a dead tree on fire, shrieking in happiness as flames licked the dry branches like autumn leaves. For as long as he can remember, he’s been causing trouble and setting things alight.

Seungcheol is also great at burning bridges (both figuratively and literally – but mostly figuratively). Sometimes he wishes he wasn’t so good at it.

Like now.

He’s been looking for Jeonghan and Jihoon for three months now. It might’ve been easier if he hadn’t been so fucking horrible with keeping in contact with Jihoon (he still has Jeonghan’s number, but Seungcheol isn’t going to pretend he isn’t Enemy Number Two). He’s spent three months bribing, threatening and burning anyone who could’ve had contact with the heartbreak duo – because that’s what they did to Jisoo.

Jisoo might have a reputation of being ruthless and heartless, but Seungcheol knows Jisoo feels something for Jeonghan. Sure, Seungcheol isn’t sure Jisoo is even capable of human emotion, but he imagines that it’s Jisoo’s version of being in love. Jisoo has been heartsick – he’s been mopey, easier to annoy and his kill count has gone from a mere handful a week to dozens on a bad day. As his self-appointed best friend, Seungcheol’s in charge of dealing with that. The last thing he wants is Jisoo in jail. Not in this condition.

Jeonghan is impossible to find. For someone who hates subterfuge and subtlety, he sure is a pro at finding secret hideouts that stay, well, secret. It’s hard to tail someone to their secret lair when you can’t even find the person.

Jihoon, however, couldn’t care less. He’s arrogant and brash, uncaring if he’s caught on camera because the cops will never catch him anyway. God, he’s a cocky bastard. (Maybe that’s why Seungcheol finds him so intriguing.)

However, the bastard is still too smart to lead Seungcheol right to the plant manipulator he needs to talk to. Be it loyalty or some fucked up way to torture Jisoo (and by extension, Seungcheol), but it’s aggravating. Three months is too long to find someone to un-sad Jisoo.

Seungcheol isn’t surprised when Jihoon slips into Pleiades and Andromeda – a strip club that’s frequented by some of Seoul’s most depraved criminals. After all, Seungcheol’s enjoyed his own nights there, either fucking around or fucking shit up. He’s not surprised, but he’s really fucking annoyed. That’s the only reason he stalks after Jihoon, caging him against the bar with his arms.

“Hello, fancy meeting you here while you’re stalking me,” Jihoon drawls, glancing at Seungcheol out of the corner of his eye. The cheeky bastard doesn’t even bother turning to face Seungcheol. The taller growls, pressing closer so Jihoon’s back is flush against Seungcheol’s front.

“No more games,” Seungcheol demands. His palms heat up, smoke curling along his fingers as the wooden surface of the table scorches. “Where the fuck is Jeonghan?”

“Fuck if I’ll tell you,” comes Jihoon’s snide retort. He leans forward, ass pressing against Seungcheol’s groin as he calls for a bourbon and soju mix. Seungcheol hates the fact that his cock gives an interested twitch, despite his don’t fuck the same ass twice rule.

Seungcheol exhales, smoke trailing out of his nostrils as he struggles to reign in his temper. “Jihoon,” he says in an even voice, “I’m doing this for Jisoo.”

“If Jisoo,” pure disdain drips off Jihoon’s tongue, “cares so much about Jeonghannie hyung, then why isn’t he here, threatening me?”

“Because Jisoo is an idiot and he doesn’t know he’s heart broken.” Seungcheol’s hands ball into fists as Jihoon spins in the cage Seungcheol traps him in, glaring up at him with eyes the colour of dark, bitter chocolate.

“I don’t give a shit,” Jihoon hisses, enunciating every syllable. “He left hyung for dead. As far as I’m concerned, he’s better off without The Gentleman.” Jihoon sneers, pushing Seungcheol back with a single finger. “And I sure as hell don’t want anything to do with you.”

Seungcheol bares his teeth – it’s not a grimace, but it’s awfully close. “Come on, doll – ”

“Stop right there,” Jihoon says with an imperious wave of his hand. “I’m not your doll, I’m not your babe. You don’t get to call me disgusting nicknames because you’re nothing to me.”

“You’re not still upset I left, are you?” Seungcheol asks helplessly. He’s always been the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em kind. Jihoon must’ve known that the moment he tumbled into bed with him.

Jihoon’s eyes are ablaze with rage. It’s such an attractive look on him that Seungcheol has to remind himself that Jihoon is officially off-limits.

“I’m upset that you think I owe you anything,” Jihoon spits. He’s only a hundred and sixty-four centimetres, but his anger makes him at least ten feet tall. “You think you can waltz in here, with your stupid mouth and your dumb-fuck pants and think I’ll just spill everything? Jeonghan hyung nearly died, and it was by his hand. I’m not letting him near us even if I was dying.”

Seungcheol knows he should be paying attention to the vitriol Jihoon is spitting in his direction, but all he can hear is the way Jihoon was – in a backhanded way – complimenting him. He licks his lips, smirking when he sees the way Jihoon’s eyes follow the motion.

“Come on, Jihoonie,” Seungcheol cajoles, placing a tentative hand on Jihoon’s arm. The mercenary glances at the hand sharply, missing the way Seungcheol steps in closer until they’re chest to chest. When Jihoon’s eyes meet his, Seungcheol allows a predatory grin to flit across his lips before leaning down to claim Jihoon’s hot mouth.

Maybe just this once, Seungcheol tells himself as Jihoon struggles for a brief moment, before he’s opening his mouth and licking into Seungcheol’s mouth.

Jeonghan can practically smell the sex wafting off Jihoon, even if he doesn’t see the dark hickeys peeking out over Jihoon’s collar. He tends to Baby, the venomous flytrap practically purring as Jeonghan prunes the weeds from its roots.

“Looks like someone had a good night,” Jeonghan comments with a wan smile. Jihoon’s hair is sticking up all funny, although he’s not walking funny. Must not have been that good of a fuck.

“Barely,” Jihoon grumbles, swatting away the grabby leaves of a nearby grapevine as he stumbles into the kitchen. “Fucking – asshole. He gave me second-degree burns.”

Jeonghan’s hands still. He takes a deep breathe, ignoring the way his inhale is extremely shaky. “I thought you said you’d never sleep with Seungcheol again?” He pats himself on the back for how level his voice is.

“It was the only way to shut him up,” Jihoon groans, sticking his head in the fridge. There’s a meaningful pause. “He’s looking for you, by the way.”

“Seungcheol?”

“No.” Another heavy pause. “Yes. But no. Jisoo.”

Baby rustles uncomfortably, spitting out acid at the mere mention of the name – a response that’s mostly Jeonghan’s. He takes a deep breath, steadying his heart and straightening his back. “Did you tell him where I am?”

Jihoon snorts, surfacing from the fridge with a carton of carrot juice. “Of course not. But… I figured I owed him this much, to tell you that he’s looking.”

Jeonghan frowns, squinting into the distance. “He just wants what he can’t have,” he mutters.

Jihoon leans against the door jamb, reaching up to stroke Baby’s vine that’s wriggling towards him. “You know,” he says in a gentle voice that’s completely out of character, “you say that, but you still keep all the things he left for you.”

He doesn’t ask how Jihoon knows – knowing the mercenary, he’s probably been snooping around. Jisoo likes to leave little presents from his heists, always somewhere Jeonghan can find. He still has the handful of diamonds Jisoo had left behind in a recent heist, a single Juliet rose resting over the gems. The rare rose sits by Jeonghan’s bedroom window sill, flourishing from Jeonghan’s magic and sunlight. There’s a middlemist red in the greenhouse, one of the world’s rarest and most beautiful flowers in the world – it had been pilfered from a greenhouse in England and delivered to a park Jeonghan had been looking after.

Jeonghan knows Jisoo is trying to buy back his affection. It’s the only way Jisoo knows how to apologise.

They’re all pretty things. But they feel meaningless.

“I care about the plants, not him,” Jeonghan says sharply, snipping a stray weed vehemently. “He can rot in hell for all I care.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Jihoon’s right. Even when he was dying in that desert, when he was staring at Jisoo’s tense and unforgiving back, his heart still beats for that damned criminal. When Jisoo had walked in with Seungcheol in tow, his heart still fluttered like a heroine in a goddamn romance novel. He could have crushed the light out of Jisoo so easily – an eye for an eye, broken bones for broken bones – but he hadn’t.

It hadn’t mattered that Jihoon had told him no.

It mattered that he couldn’t even if he wanted to.

Don’t get him wrong; he hates Jisoo. When he thinks of him, his blood boils. Rage beats unfettered in his chest and he prays there comes a time when Jisoo rots in jail.

But… deep down, he loves him too. He dreams of him, dreams of a life they might have had, if they were both normal. He yearns and he wants.

But he cannot forgive. He craves revenge.

That’s the only thing that’s stopping him.

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la-mise-en-abime · 7 years ago

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my heart yearns for you, i never wanted to be comic, i always thought it would be better to be funny in real life and not have to muster it and waste it on stage, and have people be surprised when you weren't as funny in real life, i always found that dissapointing when it happened to me, like that person was an apparition of themselves an empty shell. And wow I've come to realise how sad this existence is, or maybe its just the pattern of believing in your self, there are certainly dips. my heart yearns for you and i think fuck, was i supposed to have gone with you, was i supposed to have been all these things, what if we’d never met. I hope I can separate myself from you and form my own being, we were growing together and were not growing apart yet but maybe i need a change. This year has been weird, so wonderful, and so weird, and now maybe i am feeling the repercussions of your change, i am really feeling what you are feeling as one amoeba, we obviously share a bladder that has been said before so the urinary tract is suffering, but it hurts to feel your mundainity, it hurts to see you in your ordinary pain, your extraordinary pain in your ordinary life, it hurts me to think maybe you are not special, you are not just a special magical spelll that has reeked havoc on my life and make me question what holes i want it in. You are special, but if the world doesn’t notice so and treats you like shit i wont stand by it, ill stand with you, im sure what else I can do, will do. I dont want them spreading. our message so falsely for their own gain, i dont want coffee drunk over us and laughed over us, at our expense and sexual fetishes and smiles and dimples and rude finger gestures and shrugs and pleas and questions and examinations and cuts and bruises and cuts and no questions and spit in your face. Id rather not that thank you, id really rather not. I dont care what i am, just in relation to you always in relation to you. omg the fucking car alarm wont shut the fuck up, please shut the fuck up screaming like a fucking attention seeking cunt shut up, thank you. I was scared they would rape you, im still scared they will rape you, and i dont wants o be subtle anymore, I m scared they will fist you and put things inside you and pull your trousers down and laugh and bend you over a car and fuck you and fuck you hard, and im scared i want that, no i dont but I can imagine it vividly, has it happened somewhere in my memory before. I remember crying very hard over that film boys dont cry in tigers arms, sobbing and gasping like when i used to have tantrums, once a huge one in a video store andi couldn’t breathe i was crying so hard, and my dad said, T everyone can hear you, look they're all looking at you, take a deep breath and bap bap bap like fish inhale all that air and exhale very slowly, (later he said so your mouth looks like an asshole) but fuck those people that were looking at me he just shouldnt have made me fucking cry and it felt good and distressing to cry that much.

when we first met, the first night i called you she so many times when i was talking about you to other people, i had to keep correcting myself like i had terrets or something (that fucking car alarm) she, he, she, he, she, he. You didn't realise you have subsequently told me, but i rememeder it clearly, i was so drunk I could nt get it right, and you were the first trans person i had met knowingly, when you first told me you joked it about it, that seemed to be your method at the time, haha yeah, im basically just becoming a teenager, im about 13 in T years, i was like who is this creature who is telling me this there was subtle tone of vulnerability in how you explained it as if to say please accept this floating skin of myself that rests just above our heads, any sudden movements will frighten it off and i complied with this thing in front of me, kept it floating warily above our heads, as i fell in love with you. but your smile was golden, you were soft like the butches i had seen before, that negative space you *cant couldn’t touch where femininity and masculinity come close but don’t touch. the softness of fat under you shirt and the way you sweat and knowing there was something vulnerable in your pants, something I knew so much of and also nothing. this was stepping into another realm. I felt almost ashamed as if i was leading you on and you were so shiny and soft I knew you wanted more, but i was scared of you. i think i was terrified. of what you represented.

i was so scared of getting it wrong I did the most research ever before i met you again. how to give a clit orgasm , trans porn, top surgery, bottom surgery, fucking buzz feed all to find you somewhere, but you weren't there, you were new born, fresh into this world, thats why it felt like a lie, its affects creep up on you and for a long time you are lying to the world and proving it and i knew so much yet i would blow on your skin and, nothing. as i see you then you were more of a man than ever so pushed into a box, as so much of it is, to parade something you cant even have the grasp of to explain, to someone, your grounding on this earth in a matter of facial muscles and sounds originating from the mouth and lines and lumps in the right place flattened down that could have restricted your breathing as we slept and i said how lovely your back was because you wouldnt take it off you. Wouldn't let me see you like that it could have killed you in your sleep left me kissing a dead back i cant I cant. So for a while I could have been your fairy. your keeper even your comforter i did not exist because you did not hold me back, give yourself to me and**** i asked you in the dark of night do you like being licked out, do you like getting oral sex, do you use dildos, where do you not want me to touch, i thought you didn't want me to put my mouth there because it was wrong, it was weird, overgrown stump of what a pearl was, oh how i was wrong and you loved it and i too, i thought you might want me to suck on that appendage that innocent bystander that plastic thing that was never asked if it wanted to go in the dark place alone with no light, want me to lick it and suck it and look up at you while i did it like in the films, cause i would have done anything to get you off, and i did, but you let me put the overgrown pearl in my mouth let me pull it and suck it and let it rithe in my mouth furry stubborn pearl rolling on the sea bed, under bed under my tongue it would grow and wither and chip into my head visions of another world where I had never been and we would have to take an underground river to get to.

i remember the night it happened in that small space we called a bed the squeaked and the heating sounded like it was having a hight pitched breakdown, i was going to party that was prom themed and dressed up with lipstick over my top lip and all around my mouth and a wig and a dress and the whole time i was getting ready i was thinking of it happening, i was terrified i was going to get it wrong, id never done it, what if i would never get it right cause it wasn't the right genital substance for me, what if it was embaressing and i would have to go home with my tail between my legs not a true lesbian, straight person, person of lesbian tendencies, individual or something, someone that could not give another person what they both wanted to be given. i dont know I really didn't know, all I knew was that i looked fucking brilliant, and no one else was dressed up as per usual, so fuck them, and it gave me that sense of brilliance that everyone is judging you and you dont care.

and now they tell me a changeling is an old fairy that takes the place of a human baby an old stubborn baby that clings onto life promising its youth to all those around it that makes more sense when i call you a changeling when i call you a changeling that has been swapped at birth if only you didn't have a belly button or you had two sets of eye lids, or a second skin, but you do have strange belly button piercing from another life well say its an alien marking it i like putting my finger in it so hairy and soft and i get stapled in the mind when i know you were a teenage girl, and it turns me on and it scares me you will see that in my eyes. it makes sense that the old fairy would have seen the land and its folds to have a sense of knowing the cradle is where it should reside for the rest of its days not shuffle along in the mud with fairy toes all wet. you told me to put my toes in the sand, it felt so wrong and like they were being licked that time, in Edinburgh, a large man in an animal state licked my toes and it felt so good i let go of everything, but it comes so natural to you , to look at the sea and see answers, im almost playing to your state so you feel more comfortable in your natural environment if i am repulsed. the way people do that sometimes in order to appease the other, was it unnatural for me not to be amazed, you do annoy me when you are that pure(goldstar). i look as if i have corrupted you from your chosen path, perhaps you will go back there someday, back to the beach and think of me and you'll be at home cause i wont be teasing you, you'll be done with London and its cruel ways to spit you out with all your teeth and dreams, ill sit up in my high castle and be cold because of the drafts, without my human blanket. my cold winter feet.

and i want to have your children as long as they are fizzy and rough and have no part in the world they will become hardened to. i want there to be a way, a way that men with answers will give them to us and let me stop googling humiliating shit like can two eggs make a embryo, this is the age of fake news and i dont want to be a fucking victim. (of it) I want the soft place between us soft shell air socket between us to be full with potential and not lacking in our minds because of what ever we've been told needs to be there to build a life. i want it when i rub on the top of your clit, tiny boner, source, of rivers, slowly when you sit on me to really be you inside me or you transporting something in the air to me you don’t have to be inside me i am clever enough, imaginative enough to receive a wish of will. this way is better is better it is this way is better and better for me to lay my body on the sidewalk and shout for it to be this way ill disgrace myself to hold your hand.

its funny the words we use to communicate to each other i call you bitch and slag and squeal at you in the morning i shout in a mad face that the bombs are coming get down the bombs are coming and i tickle you and hit you when you dont hide your face into the cover, i like the helpless tickling noise, your gasping for air and your fucking smile is so framed in everything i could ever ask for. I think im like my dad like that when he screams little baby bird baby bird and picks you up like a child with the body of a huge 50 year old henry the 8th look a like. i dont want anyones approval but it hurts to know some soft states cant be translated into other states some things cant be grasped or explained.

we like to scream bitch after saying things because its like the cartoon rick and morty character who is the nightmare man, that was what got me through the break up and you lay on my lap as we watched, and i sunk my sad claws into that screen hoping the half an hour episodes would sink into one another and back into the whites of my eyes into my brain i could see us watching but i couldn't feel it, but the feeling was slowly coming back like after you burn your fingers with ice cream.

im sorry if you are hurt I had to do it i needed to be selfish well all die alone theres nothing more to say i couldn’t put it into words, i am scared of what is coming of the eyes of others im scared I will blame you for what i have doubts. you let me take you there i feel like the guy, there is no guy and I am becoming more comfortable in this position against your skin you can tell when people have copy and pasted ideas im self conscious of your knowing of my lust of your knowing of my want to penetrate you im conscious of my eagerness to do this and im conscious of what this could mean and could not. Im conscious of your body next to mine in the dark room im concious of the splinter in my finger im conscious i must be with out you. Im conscious of my memories past and how they build this encounter how i must hold back things from your view and bring others into the light but they are all there waiting to be shown it is for me to divide(decide). i am concious of you in the dark room when I see the man cry at the sound of a lovers voice from years past i feel the weight of his pain and i cry infant(infront) of you in the dark room full of people, they dont know this they dont understand like i have and i come out the cinema see the shadows of people in my way did they see what i saw i could not believe they were they they do not feel the same they are frauds, I make a swift exit to the toilet so as not to be taunted by these shadows, what is this face i see on leaving the huge and empty lonely *discabled toilet we blush at each other we know who the other is and cannot express the name of the other our mouths are forming round the name both struggling to admit this is happening(the other has a name) both blushing both full with what is delirium from all the crying shed in the dark room the evil son dark species feeder comes out the * bathroom to greet us he too is bleeding red blush and eyes and nose do twist and curve into some uncomfortable shape to fu/fill the space where words should be, and none of us can detect any.

you ask me how i did it. and i think of their mouths on each others genitals for a flash second as they stand close enough to kiss and i think better put that to bed my love. you ask me what did i do. She's taller than I thought im a fucking child a well mannered fucking child the fact my face has been near a dick makes you want to slit my throat, but i cut my tongue off and gave it to you for christmas. i say i sucked my fingers and put them places, and all i want to do is feel and to be shown the different avenues of experience. Im sorry i made that gesture people did it at uni those cuts across the arm in the air a razor blade wiped clean every time wrapped up and hidden in a draw like a battle field my love like a war torn landscape. i fucking hate those people i dont know i could strangle them for their inanety for their very wretched existence on this planet.

of the splinter in my finger at close glance microscopic slow motion as a pick it from my finger and its still sore is there still something in there i will never get out i will always copy in my actions to others be a wooden

fuck the egg fuck the egg fuck the egg and they were all so strange and i was so strange in their company as i am in the meetings of strangers it it where i find myself i find myself there it is my true self when i making things up and there is an atmosphere not yet made but worth polluting and his mother was dying and he saw a drag queen make an omelette and i made my excuses from my lack of anything and you were on a chopping board waiting to be chopped and i was in the hill in the suburb of my mind in my fear of the rape of the suburb and my filming of the fish in the shop window in the night of the suburb* and my mothers words were strong and definite this is something that will affect you and you are lost i am lost lost lost i know it was a losing game to say it was what i could handle was funny and I was laughing as i tried

filming things to take back to you of my existence the evidence of my existence and the world that you could not see. parcels of light

so poorly filmed camera angles all blushing with love

Id love to have been there in that moment, frying pan on the go, quite allot of fat, like chicken breast, must be nice to eat feed someone something from your own body. penis

im sorry i was full when you wanted to fuck me. Tomorrow we are going to dinner with your family, i will have to behave like i have to, no hands under the table touching you as we eat, it will be hot, suffocatingly hot and ill have to concentrate on what i am eating not eating you

did i hurt you did i make you bleed? i wish id recorded our conversation, and ill have to read this book again and again as its urgency describes the urgency for us to be described. You said it made you open that those boundaries were closed for so long, you've been alive for a long time, no ones ever been in there no person or thing, you must really like me, for letting you do that, my bodies like what are you doing things dont go in there only come out, whats that we like it, oh i suppose we should give it a try. its not something i can describe yet this feeling of you opening up to me, i knew all along you would like it. it makes me drowsy watching you getting turned on suffocating under my hand, you want it and im going give it to you im gonna take it away and put it back in , im touching you where you've never been touched it might as well not existed you didn't exist before this moment soft in my hand and wriggling in my fist, im holding you there i wont let you go ill give you everything you want to get there ***im deep inside you i can feel your pain that something has expanded and been washed away with the penetration and skin on skin that soft place between your hip and lower thigh that could still be a babies limb(thigh) that night i spoke to a butch about being a bottom and she told me sex is just looking at someone just imagining things are there that aren’t and everyone gets fucked in every hole and space that wants it when you have not spent your life in the corners of others peoples eyes ducking from sight and fucking, would you have put things inside yourself when you were younger did you just bleed and then stop and then bleed and then stop did your blood stain the sheets did you feel like a hole like an opening to be spread across the floor and sucked from someones fingers(in a jar), to be spread across the floor, did your dad smile at you and tell you not to have seconds did he have seconds is he an asshole does he think about your vagina swelling as it does with the months of injecting vials T /of pleasure/ straight to the blood supply supplying an ever growing (cock) clitoris, you said id fucked you into a coma, i want you to sleep in my lap all day, you cried and my hands were wet when i put them on your face, your got my cheeks wet you fucker (asshole) i was saving them for a rainy day, you said you lived on one floor you said 2 women lived in your house that were sisters and never spoke did your blood stain the walls did your blood stain the walls can i eat it can i lick it from your wounds when we fuck with the jock strap on and its covered in blood it makes me think of your blood and if there was a gash between your legs a severing you apart if you will fall apart and break in half and stain the floor as i drag you across the room , can i lick it from your wounds your soft and gutteral wounds so soft like petal flesh someones cut them and theyre bleeding from your plastic appendage theres blood on your clit but im sucking it, still blood there.,wont let me inside cause of the invisible blood there, it will be there for a while trickling down, the war on your body, the thighs of a child, i touched you in a place you hadn't heard of hadn’t translated into the language coudlnt understand the cuts dont like holes skin didn't prick pickle, ulcerus skin would let anything in barriers up it hurt me when i wasn't allowed in felt like heteronormativity without the pain of boredom but a line not to be crossed but things not to be stroked or kissed or licked let me hold you in the night now I've held you and broken you and something floats inside me if only they were to know, could you be pregnant with my wanting ?

have you been spending allot of time with your parents because you know they are going to die soon, i am lonely, i need to spend more time alone, it makes you more lonely when you cant remember the last time you were alone i really would’nt know who i was if i got married now.

i like fucking you in the ass, it really gets me off, really gets me off, really turns me on really makes me want to be inside you inside your whole core cant

i am dancing in slow motion to your voice, i am filming myself dancing in slow motion to your voice, i am cutting something up while listening to your voice, i running round in circles listening to your voice, i am on the floor crying listening to your voice, i am holding myself tightly listening to your voice, I am shouting over the sound of your voice trying to make myself louder, i am hungry for you voice, i am ashamed by the space between us, i am hungry for your voice, I am holding a floor/flower for your voice, i am listening to your voice drunk with my fingers in my ears, i am drinking shots to the sound of music timed listening to your voice,- man be cool i am frying an omelette listening to your voice, i am feeling everything listening to your voice, i am feeding an audience member listening to your voice, i am surprised by myself listening to your voice, i am masc for maSCC listening to your voice, i am hoping you wont leave listening to your voice, i am wanting to throw things away listening to your voice, i haven't decided listening to your voice, i am miming along listening to your voice, i am copying you listening to your voice, i am speaking very slowly listening to your voice, i am oily listening to your voice

a happy accident might be to faint on the tube and on coming round see your face, i find there is a null space between writing of words and the performance it is to panic that one is not right that one is not enough to parallel the other, to say that what comes first what is the purpose of the speaking, how much effort should the speaking be to counteract the writing, did the writing come from an improv, how does one improv on their own, I will just have to talk to myself for the rest of my life, no the improv comes from an exercisee, starting small and fun and exploring it, not know or worrying as to where it might go, the same with writing, do you start with a goal in mind, well sometimes you have an objective but you go on a journey to get there and no decision is wrong just a manifestation from your head, nothing you could ever do if it was honest would be wrong honesty is the best policy but that doesnt mean you cant be honest and also be deceitful, be lying and be honest, be lying honestly, be copying honestly, it is a mixture of lies and truth this is performance, to use ones body as the bericle to which you tell the story or the thoughts from your brain just your very existence not he stage is radical enough, to even say one word or blink would be radical enough…

i am sad i think my father is lonely i cant see him now but can here his soft rummaging and weird noises down stairs he can scream like a mad man and is always performing his mad man routine which might infact be his personality, but like me he is just pushing the boundaries and likes to piss people off and make them feel uncomfortable, so it is sometimes hard to tell the difference, I am sad he is lonely because i cannot see him but i can hear him coughing now, and in the night, i can hear him snoring through the floor boards and i can see the snor s coming up through the air like fluffy grey clouds or waves, i am sad that he is lonely i cannot see him but i can see a dark blue space punctured with lights and that is what downstairs looks like until i go downstairs and i can see its real walls and light fixtures and i know this is the real corners not the dark corners, i think he is lonely as he asked me to go to the corner shop to get him a beer a Stella Artois and I am sad because i did not get it for him and now he is coughing he is in the sarcoughaus of the house he is under my feet i feel i am selfish i only speak to him when i want things i wish adults weren't so useless and they could tell you what was wrong like a plant or a shoal of tuna feels like stabbing in the dark into a shoal of fish trying to understand him

when I woke up i thought about your genitals how they might be wet on my face, i turned over and felt my body on the mattress, I thought had you ever done this, you never touched it when you wanked, you still dont unless you with me and were in the moment. i had a pervading fear you might leave me for another man, I watched men from your eyes, seeing them as unconquered land as something you had not tried never been touched by a man in all your years, apart from that hand job with your guitar teacher, i thought i hate that woman, i woke from a sleep of her me telling you couldn't watch it, it angered me too much, i couldn’t watch it was sickening and her fucking face i could cut it open

Soft wet thing doesnt make sense pear shaped blossom and soot covering the sides urinal polished unforgetting is it to touch another in your future, basin of doubt my mouth alludes me it goes to what has come before

(without sentence structure just using simile and metaphors and free writing compairison to do this )

I had another dream about someone else, i feel dirty im gonna have a shower, im scared your gonna change im scared your gonna leave me for another man, im scared of you have a life without me, i keep having dreams about her, every night, do i want to fuck her or am i taunted by her, im taunted by her by a past life of mine, she came to greet me and she had candy floss hair i looked a mess everyone was there and we went out and left everyone i just left for her pleasure

i get paid to be sensitive in the sensitive spot the wind touches my ankles and there nothing to do in the plain sight the pain sigh the plain sight that moves me i woke up with blurry vision am i going blind, i woke up and what i could see yesterday i can no longer see before i feels good to hold your self down to be fLat and shiny and full of a heart and skin and blood underneath to know a cut would open you up so easily to fail in the dirt failing to use your limbs to fall bewildered to go outside for once in your life have you been outside today have you have been outside today no so dont hurt me again with your stale cavity

you would growl at the man in the shop selling us peaches didn't know he had a tremor terret,s to growl not ideal for a corner shop being the only light in a dark world dark street moon time peach buying and it upset me and i thought of myself as a small child all small and childlikee as a small child when kids took it too far and you shrivelled up into your self, its when your alone with your pain, snowball in the eye water dripping from you eye in alone with myself for hours, all hazy in the background, background noise, sharp aliveness alive sadness with he dirty snow dripping from my eye or glass that i sat on, the worst would be to be maimed she said , to be maimed would be the worst, to be maimed she said would be the worst, it was only a peach pit in my skull, but you wouldn’t want a 12 inch knife in your stomach sternum would you no you wouldn’t, a peach pit stone cutting the sides of your head off, shaving an inch from yours skull, its skill to laugh again after the impact, i felt child child again, plight of the hill and the peach pit in my brain it sunk in made its self known to me, known that it would not venture out, somewhere else a man was being cut open, known to me it would not venture out, it would not venture out and to expect something of the thing before it reaches its thing hood is foolish to expect something fo the thing is foolish, is foolish when a peach pit has embedded itself into its skull sorry to be a senstitve being, sentiive in the cool of the night air, as we cross the road to avoid cars we think might kill us, where everything is the height of the wind as the rain is about to fall, as temperaturee falls, it stayed with us all night, that stone worked its way out (but that stone did not work its way out)

shouting from a place of honesty, to unravel it would take its secrets away, it was a sigh in the mind, it was my sweat on your forehead, it was something happening far away, it was that peach pit of cruelty

why did i keep eating them bending lower and lower to my fait. my knees are the first to go, too weak for what they will

its when your alone with your pain, glass in my upper thigh near the places you choose to be cut open, involuntarily penetrated and loneliness is death and i have a scar there and its when your alone with your pain

, an men described as mediateranine colouring what ever the fuck that means hindered bodies with

i am so angry at you i am gone with anger I am gone i could have made the thing and blasted it into your face i could have made the thing and blasted it into your face watever you fucking cunt go lick the dogs arse i hate you and your fucking cuffling laugh and the way you look at me when you disapprove maybe i need to be more accepting thats my fault but i could hit you right you you fucking sucker go lick the dogs arse shut up ill say goodbye and not kiss you how do you like that if only it didn't fold back on me you /dont know me at all you are fitting things into the past what you used to say what you used to think you dont actually think that anymore dont let the shit they say grind you down thats a cliche go lick the dogs arse I am full with so many voices and none of them are yours you sucker go lick the dogs arse the words you say are empty vaccums i do things for you im self entitled i want to get it wrong i do things for you im self entitled i want to get it wrong i want to be excited instead im scared i want to get it wrong go lick the dogs arse

i couldn't hate you for long, but did you hate me forever, soaking up my life, is this sharing is this toll sharing, does it hurt you too,

it comes from the soul

wind hots the window suds like a bee dying

duality of eggs and blood

Bred into my womb

to find the details and tell your story

a film from my perspective as a stalker to you

hey fossil fuel, dirty ribena, slime mould, sea potato, Ursula le Guin, get in my mouth please peasant testicle tentacle put you to sleep eat you to your heart, peace be with you, bible passage for your grandma, Eccles cake for you pegging, naked with a cap on, dim light of the room a memory not to be forggoten and then i devoured you and then i devoured you and then i devoured you and then i devoured you cherry pip cherry core cherry cherry sticks and cherry more. Lychees at the cinema a hidden satsuma grapefruit lips fruit is expensive

im worried my dad only exists in my kitchen

im proud that you told them there is something else a Zara sales assistant wouldnt get it you were trying to tell her there was a void in the floor that she could fall into this gaping hole sucking the air out the room just a dash from razor on someones face wouldnt tell it to them straight give them enough warning of their ignorance there was a hurricane a whirlwind approaching she better get her fucking brolly - probably sum it up in one sentence.

into a massive void that was shaking all the

in those slow motion moments under the lights as the corners of your body touched mine tacky red paint and screaming

in that surreal slow motion

the less im with you the more I hate you for not sugaring my existence

Iit will all pass so grab it now

it was your gold star!!

my hands smell like celeriac but this morning they smell of your scent from inside your thighs where the humming birds sing, where i laugh at our fathers for not knowing we have that scent on our fingers as we talk to them

Ilike that man who kept getting ups nd putting his hat back on

when your full with cum and adrenalin you cant feel the pain

the metaphors the rising cultures

i am funny and you are funny and in the end i think its all going to be okay

to make a real effort to smile and not put my hands under the table.

the smell of cigarettes Monday morning

do they mix the ashes and dead bodies with the food

seeing that fruit stall and thinking that was where you were mine but i was not yours

i was your baby and i used to suck your chin

Never yours

Theres a man bow legged and he's walking, did his mum know not to wrap him round her chest like that so his legs would grow in the shape of her love and rib cage

the ground is lavender, looks like lichen, bluebells maybe just floating above the grass, a hat, a bonnet of flowers

i pass blisets where the man speaks in burps

throat cancer has made him funny without realizing

we walk along and our our knees in the right place?

we use sticks, we use plastic wheeled things, i am late, we use stealth, accents and alter egos, i channeled into a man selling big issue suddenly i am Liverpudlian so he recognises me as his own and forgives me for no money

she grows it but it looks better short

im late and bins line the pavement

i woke up in shock this morning and apologised in my sleep

Reeds

they will cut it off soon

film haircut march poem pics love

funny watch

even though can is hilarious

i fancy people who look like they've been found under a rock.

i rip my hair our its pieces

i am holding back

from every circle of my life

shame theres no poppies just unruly black hairs vying for attention

my love

not in our forehead or fingers

it is your ex girl friend

in awe of all the others creatures

i saw a bird with a ketchup packet

to call to each other reference each other tell each other things that are subconscious or just things. I call you bitch, the source, trans jelly, lichen, kitten , chicken tikka masala, midlands, it goes on. Im a rabbit in your keeping your your so small, smaller than me.

i hear you are on quest is that true? and you were born this morning, how is the world treating you? Im going to tell you some truths about the world.. have you learnt about hot and cold yet? Christmas trees have very short lives, sometimes the sun shines too much and you go red, you like icecream, you also like the beach and walking with your shoes off, you really like steak, cartoons and you are very kind.

the reason i cant really talk very clearly is because i have cut my tongue out and given it to you as a present.

I cut your tongue off and gave it to you for christmas.

ill cut an old woman face off and lay it in mine and scream like a goddess in battle as we sit on the tube cutting a mans head off with the slight of a blink in my fantasy that could be real if you will it.

if i had a 3d printer

i take you and i raise you to the highest peaks, dont bring us down.

and not spunk.

Middle ages people with their politics and booze that nor really fair i like them allot and they've livedI

as we have discovered a whole new worl

it feels great cause you know they are just particles of nothing and every part of your face is ——-gleaming.

boat to under the river where snails .

and ill nev

left me with a mound of flesh

for moths to come

my truth, my witty ex

Transface

Political nipples

Squirm

Beetle juice

Metamorphic

your such a tease

Tardigrade

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