THE PHOENIX

SIDEBLOG FOR THE INDEPENDENT CHARACTER HAMLET AMELL WITH VERSE BASED IN THE FAULTLESS SERIES

[wickedheroics-blog]

❝don’t start with me today—❞

costas heels dug into the ground  beneath him, l keeping  him anchored as possible. holding  him back  from  launching  forward  just as the other had.  ❝it isn’t as if i had a choice!❞ she was stubborn as all hell, he’d have to TIE her up and hide her somewhere  if he wanted  her to stay  behind. ❝she’s fine,that’s all that matters.❞

[contortured-blog]

“Costas you had one damn job!” 

Hamlet barely stopped himself from plowing into the man. How desperately he wanted to toss him into the wall or lay him out on the table. It had been a long time since Hamlet had felt so much fury. “Next time chain her to a bike rack or something! Use your brain!” It was ridiculous and he knew it, but he also fully would have done it himself. “You’re lucky she’s fine or else you wouldn’t be.”

[contortured-blog]

“     Are you kidding me?!?!” 

Hamlet launched himself through the door frame, the temper that only reared its ugly head every so often fired up in his belly. “How could you let her go with you?!” Veins popped at his forehead and there was a desire to shove the man before him, but Hamlet simply kept his white knuckles by his side. 

@wickedheroics

[mamabot-blog]

   @notasavicr   /   ❤’d

  “  ——  i’m  starting  to  think  these  outfits  are  sending  the  wrong  message  to  other  humans.  please  consider  a  new  wardrobe  for  us.  wouldn’t  want  to  deck  fist  of  tin  at  one  of  the  customers.  “

[contortured-blog]

“Weird.” The boyish grin on Hamlet’s face did not match the devious understanding behind his eyes. “Skirts never get me hit on - am I doing something wrong?”

[goodiintenticns-blog]

emerald eyes pull upwards to take him in once again as acceptance of his presence grows within her. lower lip quivers, it’s clear that she’s only moments away from b r e a k i n g. emery had missed him. his easy smiles, the way he met her eyes and could always draw laughter from her. so many times she had thought, ‘if i could just see him one more time. talk to him,‘ and now there he was, standing before her, and she couldn’t find the right words. ❝ for once in your life, can’t you be REAL? ❞ emotions choke her, push the tears behind her eyes, strangle her – the heat of a year’s worth of pain streaming down her cheeks. it comes like a wave of ecstasy. there was a loss of innocence that had come with the past year, and she had worked so hard to become stronger, braver, a survivor. she hadn’t cried once.

one look at him and she’s being plunged back into the past. emery wilson’s liberation is nothing more than a memory in the back of her mind, and she stands, a fragile girl sure to be eaten alive by an inevitable war. if only he had any idea the heartache he was causing her. ❝ what– what happened to you?❞  however, it wasn’t just herself that she hurt for. genie, sully – none of them deserved this; to have someone they loved ripped away from them, only to have all the pain be for nothing. the anger scratches at the corners of her mind, but she fights it. trembling hand reaches, wiping the tears from her eyes. there has to be an explanation.

[cruorosalin-blog]

A crack. A slow melting down his face with eyes following every tear that slipped out from those familiar EMERALD eyes. The grin that had lived so boyishly on his lips faded into the background, taking from him the youthful appearance but forth by his optimism and replacing it with a year worth of war beaten wrinkles and a wisdom that exposed him to be years greater than his true age. To see her like this took away all thoughts of himself and what had happened to him those few months he’d been away and left only heartbreak for  h e r . 

Hamlet offered no words, no jokes or explanations, in truth he was not ready to face telling what had become of him. No, instead he just took a moment and stepped forward, moving slowly as if not to spook her with first hands outstretching to her shoulders and then a slow easing of her into his chest. The hug of a bear, enveloping and complete folded Emery into him with the hopes that maybe that would start breaking away and making up for all the pain he had caused her, even if it hadn’t been his fault. 

It was when she asked what had happened to him that the embrace became partially selfish as well - a way to not look at her, a way to feel safe. But then it was suffocating him, despite him being the one to hold her to him, and Hamlet found himself two feet away with his back to her and his hands under his armpits to hold himself instead. What he wanted was to make a joke, to say he’d gone on vacation or overslept, but Hamlet couldn’t find the air to  B R E A T H E  let alone laugh. The exhale was shaky, but her forced it to be slow in contrast to the fast paced pumping his chest had begun doing in an attempt to get the words out. 

“It’s over - that’s what matters.”

[contortured-blog]

goodintenticns:

@contortured

                 ———— ❝ you were DEAD. ❞  the mangled cry escapes her lips with a step forward. she isn’t sure whether she wants to punch or kiss him. maybe he was still dead. maybe this was nothing more than some fucked up hallucination. for a moment, the fire dies from her gaze and glistening eyes become tender. a slender hand moves as if on it’s own, hovering just millimeters away from his lips before she draws it back as if stung. ❝ so what are you doing here? ❞  emerald gaze breaks from his features – she can’t even bring herself to look at him anymore. instead she focuses on the ground before her, the feeling of her fists clenching and unclenching, the way her mouth closes on some pain that can neither be told nor ignored. all things that she knows are real. emery can’t bring herself to accept the fact that hamlet is before her, because doing so would mean admitting that he had left her.

“I know. I’m like a zombie or something- I’ve always wanted to be a zombie.” Even in the face of Emery’s cry, Hamlet held the humor up in his tone without near any effort at all. It was how he handled everything, with laughter and jokes, in hope it would make other’s, and himself, feel less terrible than they did. Also, it was just fun. He was never one to look at things as half empty, and that included him being miraculously alive. Still, when Emery came up closer, near to touching him, it was impossible to see the hurt and anger in her eyes and not feel for her what she felt for herself. When she was that close and he met her gaze like that, his goofy crooked grin fell to half mast and he fought every muscle that begged to reach out and envelope her in apology for doing this to her - even if it wasn’t his fault. When she jerked away and snapped at him so violently however, Hamlet felt pain of his own.·

How could it be, that everyone he had seen thus far was not happy to see him? Not glad he had lived? It was beginning to wear on him, and as much as he felt guilty for putting those he cared for through the pain of losing him and then the shock of his return, Hamlet could not help but consider what he himself had gone through and how he had expected his home coming to be a relief from it all- not more hurting. With Emery’s eyes turned downcast, there was a moment where that pain cracked through on his face, but by the time he spoke it was replaced by familiar a playful, lighthearted grin.·“I just decided to stop in, you know? Say hi, maybe get a bite to eat.”