#poetryofcorpses

[pyrokineticwarrior]

"My love, you know you can tell me anything, right? We're confidants, and… friends, first and foremost, so I was wondering if— well, if there was something you wanted to tell me or get off your chest…"

Devlin sighed, his gaze shifting away from Arabella's earnest eyes. He appreciated her concern and the depth of their connection, but the weight of his unspoken burden held him back. He knew he couldn't fully open up about the haunting memories that plagued him, fearing that they would tarnish their relationship. Devlin wanted to protect her from the darkness that lurked within him, even if it meant keeping her in the dark about his own battles.

"My love, you're right," Devlin said, his voice tinged with a touch of sadness. "I agree we are confidants and friends, and I cherish that bond between us. But there are certain things... things that I struggle to put into words."

He paused, gathering his thoughts, before continuing. "But don't misunderstand me- it's not that I don't trust you or value your support. It's just that some memories from the war still haunt me, and sharing them might burden you as well. I don't want to bring that darkness into our lives."

Devlin's gaze returned to Arabella with a desire to shield her from the pain he carried. He decided to redirect the conversation, hoping to shift the focus away from his own struggles.

"Speaking of misunderstandings, let me tell you about Killian," Devlin said, his tone lightening slightly. "I was wrong to assume he was suspicious-looking. It turns out he's a genuinely caring brother, and I misjudged him. I think it's safe to say, we can't always trust our initial impressions?"

@poetryofcorpses

[mutatedangels-a]

@poetryofcorpses // soap x arabella

Soap leaned back against the chair, making sure that his wounded left ear was visible and accessible to the girl. If he was dealing with any other medic he wouldn't bother to be so considerate, but he knew that he wouldn't hear the end of it from Arabella if he wasn't a compliant patient.

Munching on a bag of chips, he kept his eyes fixed on the Squad outside of the medic tent, their shadows waxing and waning in the buzzing of their camp at night. Around them, maybe a hundred, if even, other soldiers worked like an army of bees. He wanted so badly to be part of the action—to know the next move once the sun rose in the sky.

Instead, he'd been ordered to stay back for at least a day or two to let his ear (and a few other things on him that had been gashed and at risk for infection) heal. Worse, he was under the charge of the bossiest nurse he'd ever met.

He took another bite of chips and looked over at the woman. Not for long, though. He didn't want her to think that he was being chummy with her. "Let's make this quick, doc." His neck felt wet with blood from his ear; it'd been grazed by a near-miss bullet, but he wasn't feeling any pain.

[silver-blooded-synthetics]

@poetryofcorpses sent in a starter:

❣ (any of your choice 🥰) (was waiting for the correct time for them to interact)

My muse has been in a fight (and not fared very well) - send ❣ for them to react to your muse offering to patch them up.

Picking fights when he was feeling reckless was something Errol still hadn't learned not to do. It was like he was punishing himself for something. It was an impulse to bring himself physical pain to distract himself from emotional pain. And what better way to do that than to pick a fight with someone he couldn't possibly hope to win against.

At least not if he was fighting fair.

He'd gotten a couple dirty shots in at the last minute. It's probably what saved him from a worse fate in the end. He very easily could have wound up six feet under if he hadn't ended the fight when he did. Technically he'd won, since the other man gave up before he did.

But Errol didn't feel like a winner. He felt like shit. His lip was split, he had a black eye and a bloody nose, and he was fairly certain he had a few broken ribs. At the very least they were bruised pretty bad. His knuckles were bloody and bruised too, but not all of that blood was his own.

Worse than all of that was the concussion though. His ears were ringing and the world felt like it was spinning. The vertigo was causing him to feel nauseous and made him stumble as he tried to find his way back home. Errol wasn't even sure he was going the right way. He was just walking to keep from blacking out. Well... Walking might be too flattering a word to describe the way he stumbled around and had to hold on to the walls around him to keep from falling on his face.

He wasn't sure where he was anymore. Nothing looked familiar, and his vision was swimming enough that it made it difficult to tell if he was indoors or outside. There were lights, but they were too bright to look at for long, so he couldn't tell if they were indoor fixtures or city lights.

Finally his footing faltered more than he could correct it and Errol was sent tripping forward. Grabbing onto the first thing he could reach to try and stop himself from planting his face in the dirt, he ended up grasping at some sort of dark blob shaped thing to try and regain his balance.

Upon closer inspection it was a person.

"Fuck, m'sorry," he mumbled, hands on their shoulders as his knees gave out beneath him and he started to swerve to the side. His fingers slipped off of them and with another soft curse, he fell to the ground rather roughly.

"Damn it..." Shaky arms held him up, but only barely as he reached one hand up to wipe some of his own blood away from his face. Unable to hold himself up much longer after that, he laid down at the stranger's feet and looked up at them, seeing the lights spin around their head like stars on a dizzy cartoon character. Except he was the one that was dizzy.

He needed help. Opening his mouth to ask for it, something went haywire in his brain and instead of saying 'can you call an ambulance' or even just 'help me', he said something completely unrelated instead. "You're pretty."

[whenweopenwerered]

🎥 ( THEATER ) (Soap) (maybe during a date with the squad? Idk to make it more dangerous /fun)

@poetryofcorpses //

For as well as the Reaper Squad got along and worked together, they only had a few common interests, and one of them was catching the next newest and biggest action movie as soon as it came out. Not everyone could fly into town for every single movie, though, so once in a while it had to just be a few members while the others caught their local showings internationally or just in another state. Soap had the pleasure (or pain?) of living close enough to Nancy and Eli that they could tag along whenever they felt like it, which usually Soap would love—but not tonight, when he was on a date with his new girlfriend, Bella.

“Leave them alone!” Nancy whisper-yelled at Eli, who’d been heckling the new couple from a few seats away during the previews. Thankfully she was there, Soap thought, to make sure the new couple was given some space to enjoy their date—especially since she and Eli sort of infiltrated it. On purpose, he figured.

Soap flicked a playful middle finger toward their way before they broke out in giggles. He rolled his eyes, then shot a somewhat apologetic look to Bella. “We can’t have any peace, it seems.” But it looked as if he didn’t need to apologize at all; she seemed to be in a good mood as she reached over and placed her hand atop his, likely in attempt to soothe him. He gave her a warm, grateful smile—that turned into an expression of slight panic, then surprised pleasure, when he felt her hand travel upward.

“Here. Are you cold?” He stopped her only for a brief moment, long enough for him to take his jacket off and drape it over her, giving them enough cover to do what they wanted.

[pyrokineticwarrior]

@poetryofcorpses

[iincantatorum]

what chess piece represents you?

for delia:

Black Knight

You are a Black Knight, the black sheep, the underdog. As the only piece that can jump over others, you can easily get yourself in and out of situations - always catching people off guard with your charisma and cunning. You move in the shadows, trading information with shady people, getting the upper hand through not always good methods. How far do you think this road can take you? For all your charisma or cunning, lies can only get you so far. One day, that mask you've put on will slip, and you'll be left defenseless. But until then, oh black knight, live like there's no tomorrow - because there might not be.

---

for apollymi:

White Pawn

You are a white pawn. Don't let pawn be misleading, this means you're full of potential. Being the white piece and a pawn means you can have the first move on the board. Will you make a good first impression? For all the spotlight is on you, watching you go across the board on your long journey. Will you rely on those around you for support? For a pawn, for all its love and hope, can do little by itself. Not until it reaches the other side of the board and has its full potential realized. Who will you be at the end of your journey? Only time will tell.

Tagged by: @poetryofcorpses (she tagged apollymi) & @gretaphasmatosmartin (she tagged delia)

Tagging: you!

[pyrokineticwarrior]

@poetryofcorpses

Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Ann Davidow-Goodman, featured in The Letters Of Sylvia Plath Volume I: 1940–1956

[Text ID: I know I’ll always think of you with something like hurt and nostalgia―and a great deal of love.]

[mutatedangels-a]

I wouldn't have it any other way, Heaven knows a sinner needs a saint. Oh but when I've been at my most ugly, I hate the way you love me. ♩ ♫ ♬

quinn x arabella // @poetryofcorpses

[silver-blooded-synthetics]

@poetryofcorpses sent in a starter:

sshhh, come here… (for Alma)

Alma was in the midst of a panic attack. There was too much going on at once, too much sensory overload. It was overwhelming him to the point that he had started hyperventilating. His eyes darted around the crowded area as he tried to focus on just one sound at a time and failed.

The street outside full of cars in traffic, people having conversations around him, the music playing from the radio of the cafe they were in, machines beeping and whirring behind the counter, the ringing of a cell phone, the ticking of a clock on the wall - it was all too much noise. Not to mention the strong scent of coffee, and the brightness of the sun shining through the windows from outside. Normally he would be able to handle it all, but when he was already on edge, it made it so much worse.

Alma was supposed to meet Arabella for coffee or tea. They'd both agreed on it. He had arrived first, but his anxiety started eating away at him the longer he waited for her. He didn't meet new people often, and he already liked Arabella. So fear of messing it up was making him nervous to the point of having a break down. It didn't help that he was under a lot of stress all the time anyways. This was just the last thing he could take before breaking down.

Alma put his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, leg bouncing as he sat in a booth at the cafe waiting for Arabella. He tried to block out all the stimulus he could, but it wasn't working. Until he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see that Arabella had arrived.

His hands dropped from his ears so he could hear her speak to him soothingly. It seemed she noticed something was wrong. "I'm sorry," Alma instantly apologized. "I'm fine, really. I promise." He was lying, but he didn't want her to worry or think poorly of him. Plastering on a forced smile, Alma glanced around the cafe again before looking at Arabella. "Erm, I know I asked you to meet me here, but do you think we could go somewhere more quiet for a bit?"

[pyrokineticwarrior]

[Text:] i found these and wanted to share it with you. I know you like silly things just as i do!

Devlin smiles as he receives the text from Arabella, appreciating the lightheartedness of the funny memes. He quickly types out his response, aiming to maintain the playful and friendly tone they've been cultivating:

[text] Hey Arabella! These memes are hilarious! 😄 Made me laugh out loud before bed. Thanks for brightening up my evening. Looking forward to more adventures and laughs with you.

Devlin presses send, hoping his response conveys his genuine enjoyment of the memes and his excitement to continue building their rekindled friendship. He sets his phone aside, feeling grateful for the connection they're reestablishing and eagerly anticipating what their future holds. He should sleep, but he was going to be lying if he didn't admit he was waiting for his phone to buzz, for a response back.

@poetryofcorpses

[pyrokineticwarrior]

Rubbing his eyes, he then shook his head, "nah it's alright, I should have remembered that there was gonna be a flash. I got too used to talking pics on my camera."

He smiled warmly at the thought of it. A happy couple. Perhaps one day they could be.

"Sorry about the flash, I should have warned you..." Bella regretted apologetically. She quickly checked the picture on the camera screen, they looked good, they looked cute, they looked like a couple in love.

"Look..." She showed Devlin the picture smiling, "We look like a happy couple here..."

@pyrokineticwarrior

[mutatedangels-a]

canvas: Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all? (Eli & Soap)

character design asks // @poetryofcorpses

eli funnily enough has no tattoos, he never took an interest in them as a kid and nowadays thinks he's too old to be going around and getting tattoos. plus, in his mind, there's nothing he'd like to get tattooed on himself. maybe if the reaper squad came up with something and all got matching tattoos together, he'd go! as for scars, he does have more than a few. his nose has been broken quite a number of times and if you look closely, on his bridge, you can see the slightest horizontal scar. he was shot in the shoulder once, but the bullet went clean through; if you turn him around and look at his back, you can see that scar.

soap has a multitude of tattoos! you can view this post for an overall view of them. i kdfjalkfa suck at picking out tattoos for muses and finding much meaning in them bc i have none and have never taken an interest in them, so apologies for taking the lazy route there. i imagine a lot of soap's tats have to do with the reaper squad, and one or two is probably in nancy or pills' handwriting, a line or two he likes from letters they've all written each other. from nancy it'd probably say: "take care of yourself" and from pills it would probably say: "let it rip." as far as scars, well he's got a bunch too, but canonically let's say his ear is a little busted from our thread with him and bella! he also has a stab wound near his left rib from when he was, honestly, shanked during a night in county jail.

[silver-blooded-synthetics]

What chess piece represents you?

Errol

Black Knight

You are a Black Knight, the black sheep, the underdog. As the only piece that can jump over others, you can easily get yourself in and out of situations - always catching people off guard with your charisma and cunning. You move in the shadows, trading information with shady people, getting the upper hand through not always good methods. How far do you think this road can take you? For all your charisma or cunning, lies can only get you so far. One day, that mask you've put on will slip, and you'll be left defenseless. But until then, oh black knight, live like there's no tomorrow - because there might not be.

Tagged by: @poetryofcorpses thank you!

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do it.

[pyrokineticwarrior]

@poetryofcorpses || Climbing High {devlin & arabella}

Devlin had just clocked into his shift when he heard that there was a climber who was stuck. The person who was staffed before him, and in charge of the climbing wall had left early without telling anyone, so, she has been there for probably five to ten minutes. Devlin sighed in annoyance and went to the area to latch on the rope to his belt, all while thinking of how the poor girl was scared for that long. When one was stuck, each minute of peril felt like it lasted much longer, and he knew from experience. Memories of his experience overseas in the army returned whenever he would be climbing on the wall, and he cannot push those back. He saved countless soldier's lives even in extreme conditions. In comparison, they were in a rather illustrious gym. This was an indoors climbing wall and quite air-conditioned. They should be fine.

Everything went well, until he was getting closer to the girl. From the angle below, something about her seemed familiar. Her frame? The texture of her hair? It reminded him of a different lifetime, where he was so young and filled with spirit, until he felt he was a broken shell of his former self.

"Arabella," he spoke her name, now face-to-face with the girl with the soft features and sharp words. His old high school girlfriend, before he left her as soon as he was enlisted about more than a decade ago.

Still, this was still a client, so he wrapped his arms around her and looked down, trying to get her to balance with him, but he was met with some resistence.

"Hey, it's just me, I got you. What, you're scared Bella? I'm not gonna let you fall," he spoke to her in the same cadence from all those years back, while the informality was feeling like he stepped back into his own home, finally.

[pyrokineticwarrior]

@poetryofcorpses

A gentle awakening