declan king
↳ “ death is the easy part, the hard part is living and knowing you could be so much more than you’re willing to be. ”
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@declvns
declan king
↳ “ death is the easy part, the hard part is living and knowing you could be so much more than you’re willing to be. ”
“a little of both, quite frankly. i missed the fries and i need to talk to the giant nut you speak of. why do you care, Dec? did you miss me or somethin’?”
“miss you? don’t flatter yourself. i’m the giant nut’s voicemail, leave a message after the beep. beep.”
“It’s not even that they misspell my name, they just get it entirely wrong.” Micah didn’t even realize who he was talking to since the other male had his face looking down at his phone. It wasn’t until Declan put the phone away that Micah realized. His heart started racing, this whole reason he came to this town is now standing in front of him. “I– I–” Speak, idiot. He saw his twin’s mouth moving, but couldn’t hear anything except a light ringing noise. It was obvious that Declan was most likely questioning the existence of Micah. Finally, he snapped out of it when the other touched him. “What? Oh, yeah. I’m real. Or at least I think I have been for the past twenty-five years.”
“Different name?” He only seemed to catch bits of what the other male was saying, astonished by the resemblance, even his voice had a similar tone. ‘The past twenty-five years’ played back in his head, his mind spinning as he continued to look over the other male. “So you’re real.” He repeated once again, this time more of a statement than a question. He sounded as if a broken record, but his mind couldn’t process anything else. “Like really, real? Like I’m not on punk’d right now? Kieran didn’t pay you to put on some strange body suit? This isn’t some drug induced illusion?” He rambled off the possibilities, speaking so fast it was nearly incoherent. After a moment of silence, his mind attempting to comprehend the situation, he spoke once again. “So you’re from a vagina and not a test tube, right?” His index finger rested on his lip as his brow furrowed.
“So the Starbucks barista messed up my name once and even though I go in there almost every day, I still never corrected her cause I feel bad. Like she is just trying to do her job and has other customers to help, so yeah I keep quiet. But I just ran into her at the grocery store and we had a full conversation like we were best friends, but she still thinks my name is Michael. I didn’t correct her cause I feel like we are in too deep now and if I corrected her then she would feel stupid and I don’t want her to feel stupid.” He paused to take a deep breath since he was rambling pretty fast towards the end. “Anyways, I think I need to legally change my name to Michael. What do you think?”
“Yeah, they tend to do that, they always put a k on my name.” He answered almost on autopilot, eyes glue to his phone as his fingers glided over the glass screen. He pressed the lock button on the left side of his phone as he pocketed the device. “Is Mike,” he began, but cut off as he looked up and got a solid look at the male. His words caught in his throat, eyebrow cocked as he glanced over the male. Had he been cloned? Had someone sold his DNA to a science lab? “Why do you look like me?” The confusion in his voice was evident. He rubbed his eyes, blinking them rapidly, but the image in front of him hadn’t disappeared. “Did I accidently put shrooms on that pizza? I have to be tripping.” He was mostly talking to himself, however he couldn’t help but reach out and touch the person in front of him. He felt skin, instantly jerking his arm away. “Oh my god! You’re real!” He shouted. “Are you real?”
Sasha watched Declan as he made his way over toward his car, she couldn’t help but laugh at his comment on the alarm system that was non existent in his car. “But just think about how much more fun it would have been if you had an alarm– being able to rush out of work cause a crazed townie decided to sit on your car” she said commented back looking at him as he sat up on his car, she held him the shake that she had gotten for him. “Oh.. nope you’re wrong there” she quickly added. “I’ve broken in to your car before; I left my jacket in the backseat a week ago and needed it back– honestly I’m shocked you didn’t take notice.. Who knows what more I could now pinch from your car when you’re unaware. Least I know if my parents kick me out again I have a place to sleep” she half joked. Her parents had a habit of kicking her out; it usually resulted in her going to work and stealing a bed or sneaking in to Sophia’s place and crawling in to her best friends bed. “So do tell me how was work? Any crazy home deliveries to lonely women wanting to create a sad yet weird fantasy with the cute delivery boy?” she teased
A small chuckle escaped his lips. “If you ever caught me in that much of a panic, do me a favor and record it, put it on vine or something.” He grabbed the milkshake, sipping the sweet treat through the straw. “Oh, so you’re admitting to breaking into my car? Should I be recording this and reporting this to the authorities?” He laughed as he took another sip of the shake. His face dropped at her last comment. Picturing Sasha on the streets made his heart drop, there was a brief silence before he spoke again. “You know if you ever need a place to crash you can always come by mine, just don’t mind Jack.” His voice was softer this time. “Work was work.” He shrugged, no interesting stories from the previous six hours. “I have a half of sausage pizza in the back if you're hungry. I forgot the address while delivering and got hungry, my boss just sent out a new driver with a new pie.”
“well, the thing is, i’ve been here all day & my brother was supposed to pick me up, like, three hours ago,” roman begins to explain, fidgetting with the bottom of his jacket before rambling on, “—basically, he’s not going to show & while i’m used to walking, it looks like it’s about to pour, & it’s honestly been such an awful day, so i was just wondering if i could maybe get a ride?” he lets out a breath at that, a bit embarrassed for asking at all.
“so basically what i’m gathering is you actually wait three hours for your brother ? firstable, i don’t know why you’d actually wait that long for anyone, it’s typically evident they’re not gonna show after the first fifteen minutes without a call. secondable, i have a delivery to make,” he stated, gesturing towards the delivery bag beside him. “but if you don’t mind the smell of burnt pepperoni i can drop you off along the way.”
* ・ ˙ ✶ AMBERHQ TASK ONE: UNSENT LETTERS
(part 2/?)
DEAR DECLAN,
Declan, you are the most important person in my life.. You are the brother I never had and you saved me from myself in ways that you will never understand. But I need you to understand that I am not okay. I never have been and I think something has been wrong with me since the day I was born. I feel like every fucking time I try to get better, I just get worse. I hate myself so much, it’s killing me. I can feel the hatred run through my veins like poison and one day I’m scared it really will kill me.
Keep reading
@declvns·
Sasha wondered around the town, it was started to slowly quieten down as the sun had set and the stars came out in to the sky. Her eyes glanced around the stores and at the people rushing to get home to their families, loved ones, or in Ms Walkers case her many many cats— it seemed like just another dull night in Amber Springs. She stepped in to swirly’s grabbing herself a take out milkshake, she pulled a straw out of the dispenser glancing out the window as she waited for her drink. She found herself smiling as she spotted a familiar car parked outside the pizza store, she turned to the person behind the the counter. “You better make that two milkshakes” she asked; grabbing an extra straw. She paid for the drinks, before walking out of the store and over towards Declan’s car. Sasha always had this habit of making herself too comfortable especially around the people she was close with, which is exactly what she did while waiting for Declan knowing he’d come outside any moment now; she climbed up on to the bonnet of his car before sitting herself down, placing the shake she got for him beside her as she sipped on hers as she awaited for him to come outside.
The still of night put Declan at ease, the stars typically his only companion on his evening strolls. He’d delivered his final pizza of the night, parking outside Swirly’s as he ran across the street to drop off his bag. He wasn’t planning on going home, not yet, he wanted to enjoy the serenity that came with the empty streets of Amber Springs. He hung his hat on the hook as he stripped of his delivery jacket, glad to be rid of the expired sausage odor — they really needed new jackets, or he just needed a new job. His fingers ran through his hair, attempting restore any sort of body the hat had flattened after hours of wear as he made his way out the door. There was nothing he hated more than evening shifts, unfortunately they seemed to provide the best tips. He noticed a figure seated on his car, however the lack of light held minimal details. It was definitely a female, certainly one he knew — he hoped at least. As the figure took form a smile played at the corner of his lips, Sasha. “You know, you’re lucky I don’t have an alarm.” He joked, climbing up on the car and taking a seat beside her. “I mean, it’d be kind of pointless, I’m the only one that breaks into my car.” He glanced over at the brunette, taking in her long golden locks. The moonlight reflected off her soft, pale skin. There was no denying she was beautiful — she’d always been beautiful.
dear declan,
i want you to remember this day, the day you climbed to the top of the church to get closer to heaven — or was it to fall to the pits of hell? the way your feet dangled fifty feet in the air. oh the freedom that would come with the fall. the freedom from nightmares, the judgements passed by society, the father that has shut you out, and the inner demons you so desperately fight — seeking jesus in the bottom of the bottle.
you stood up, feet mere inches from the ledge. the town was silent, the moon beaming over the homes of the sleeping citizens. ‘how lovely it’d be to sleep.’ you thought, but you weren’t thinking of a simple nap or night in a cozy bed. you swallowed the last swig of vodka, dropping it onto the cement below. the sounds of shattering glass echoed through the still night. you wondered if it’d be similar for you, feeling as fragile as the glass bottle.
with a deep breath you take one step — back off the ledge. your feet safely on rooftop panels. a sigh of relief escapes your lips. this is the moment i want you to remember if you ever feel that low again, i want you to remember the reasons you stayed.
i want you to remember kieran. i want you to remember the day you returned, you promised you’d never leave him again. how could you so selfishly break such a promise? you know there’d be no returning, no proper goodbye. how could you leave without saying goodbye? how could you leave? you’ve always been so selfish, so full of self-pity. how could you hate yourself so much you can’t even accept love from someone else?
what about sophia? she’s fragile enough — fuck, how do you think she’d handle this. you’re supposed to keep her safe. how can you do that if you can’t even shield yourself from the monsters inside your head? don’t you want to be there on her wedding day? to see her have a child of her own? you can’t do that if you do this now, so please take one more step back.
and your dad — don’t you think he’s lost enough? he’s shut himself down since your mother left, could you imagine him losing you as well? he’s just getting back to the person he once was, could you really do that to him again? god, you’ve always been selfish, but for once in your life can you think about someone else?
most of all, what about yourself? remember how close you were to the ledge, were you satisfied with the idea of death? i can answer that for you, you weren’t. life may be shit at times, and i know you don’t believe it, but it will get better. that wasn’t the end and neither is this. so please, next time instead of getting on that ledge, just read this.
you’re only twenty-three now, but you’ll thank me when you’re fifty.
@kiernut
nut boy,
i know i suck at showing my gratitude, every therapist i’ve visited has highlighted that. it’s almost as if i’ve disassociated myself from feelings, or whatever psychological term you wish to use for it. i’m fucked, okay, that’s not a huge secret. i’m thankful for you though, you’ve been there all my life — well most of it. that’s why i’m writing this letter, i want to finally tell someone the truth about the two years i went away. it’s strange, i’ve been home for eight years and never muttered a single word about two. i guess i should start from the beginning, it’d probably make more sense that way.
i arrived at my uncles in late may, school was just getting out so they agreed to allow me to do a sort of homeschooling program that year. what’s the point in attending school for only a week? anyways, school’s boring. across the street from my uncle there was this girl, she was beautiful i tell ya. she had long golden locks, pretty blue eyes, and a smile that could captivate anyone in sight. she looked as if she could be a model, actually i think she just might be now. god, she looked like an angel but was satan in flesh. mallory, the girl who was certain to ruin my life.
we began hanging out occasionally during the summer, my uncle and her father being good friends and often having poker nights. we’d hang out in her room while our guardians and their friends gathered to shoot the shit over cards. twenty-one pilots always played in her room, she swore one day josh was going to fall in love with her, who wouldn’t though? she radiated life but somehow brought death to anything she touched, and oh god did she touch me.
over the summer she’d dragged me to shows of bands i’ve never heard. she began introducing me to people and things, some good and others bad. i made a lot of friends through her, for the first time in my life i’d felt like i’d belonged somewhere. i wasn’t an outcast here, and people seemed to like me. i’m not sure if i genuinely liked myself, but they did, i guess that was enough for me.
one night after a show things got weird though. i’m not really sure how to explain this, or if i even can, so bear with me please. we’d all been hanging out in an abandoned field after the show, when mallory grabbed out a small ziplock pouch filled with a white powdery substance. i’d been aware of what it was, but i’d never come in contact with it myself. it got stranger though, i know as if a teenage girl with drugs isn’t strange enough. all of the boys in the group proceeded to drop their pants and beat their meat. now, keep in mind, i was a virgin at this point so i was confused as to what the heck was going on, but mallory insisted i do the same and fuck — i didn’t want to be the outcast again. so i did it, and once we were all hard she put a line of coke on our dicks and proceeded to go around the circle snorting it off and topping it with a blowjob. i’m not exactly sure how i felt about the whole situation, but god does she have the lips of an angel, perhaps that’s what hinder was singing about. two months into my trip and i was already half a virgin, that’s more than i’d accomplished sixteen years in amber, however summer was coming to an end and i was about to have to face school again.
i had the typical first day jitters, can you blame me? my last school experience was traumatizing. mallory seemed to notice though, and offered me a small white tablet to “take off the edge.” i’d been uncertain as to what it was, or what it even did for the matter, but i swallowed the pill without question. it had the opposite effect though, my teacher’s head had been replaced with a fucking frog — that wasn’t fully the drugs, i noticed the next day while sober he kind of looks like one, but he was a full out beady, red eyed mother fucking frog that day. i swear, he licked his lips once and i thought his tongue was darting out at me. i jumped and hid under my desk, like way to go declan, you’re really fitting in here. i survived my first day though without getting acquainted with the trash can though, so i guess i did something right.
i sat outside with mallory and her friends, most of them with at least one piercing and shitty, illegal tattoo. they all had fries because they claimed the rest of the school food was horse meat, it definitely wasn’t beef, but horse meat? i think it was just my messed up eight grade science project. none of them seemed to eat much, but after the meal one of the girls pulled out a bag with colorful tablets. everyone passed the bag around, closing their eyes and picking one, plopping it in their mouth without even glancing at it. when it’d been my turn i decided to up it, taking two at random. everyone cheered me on, but god i felt nauseous all night — i feel nauseous just thinking about it now. i wish i could say that was a one time thing, but it was only the beginning of the chaos that was mallory knight.
a couple months had passed, not much had happened, not that i can remember at least. i’d woken up in places i didn’t know existed, sometimes with people i hadn’t known as well. i’d started coming home later, sometimes not at all. the time i’d spent with mallory increased, ditching classes, secret sleepovers, breaking into the movies. she began to consume me, i was held captive by her lips against mine as our tongues danced, transferring the pill from her mouth to mine. god, how she simultaneously built me up and destroyed every piece of me.
it’d been about six months at this point. i’d popped a lot of pills and vodka burned the back of my throat, but i’d never tried anything stronger. that was until mallory knocked on my window one evening. she’d been carrying a small ziplock with coke, similar to the one from the night in the field. she’d rolled up a twenty and then passed it to me, god my first time snorting coke and it wasn’t even with a fucking hundred. like really? that’s probably my biggest regret in life. god, i’d go back and tell her nah, not unless it’s a hundred. but i’m getting sidetracked. basically that night she’d introduced me to pixie sticks of heaven, and kissed me in places i’d never been touched. we got tangled in the sheets and did things i swore i’d never speak of, and i hadn’t until now.
as the months passed things began to change, for me at least. i began rapidly dropping weight, my uncle thought it was because i was going to the gym, that’s what i told him and everyone else at least. this is the first time i’m ever telling the truth, i’m not certain how i feel about it. the truth is i’d never set foot in a gym, i spent most of my afternoons hanging out under the bridge with a couple of friends. we’d get intoxicated off whatever we had that day. alcohol, heroin, cocaine, pills, you name it. whatever we could get our hands on we’d indulge in and speak of how much we hate everything around us. i don’t think we truly hated the surrounding world, i think we were just inflicting our self hatred on others.
my relationship with mallory grew, if you want to call it that. she wasn’t one to be committed to anything, and i wasn’t too eager to tame the beast. i loved the sense of freedom she presented and the way her fingers traced down my spine. it hadn’t mattered whose bed i was in two hours ago or what guy she’d made out with under the bleachers, at three am she’d be knocking on my window and we’d do the unspeakable until the sun peeked through my blinds. there was no denying the adrenaline rush i’d got in her presence, but i know i was not the only one.
it’d now been a year into my time in la, i think this was when shit really hit the roof. mallory had found out she was pregnant, and was certain it was mine. we’d been so careless, something the “old” declan never would have done. i panicked, you know. i wanted to call you every day and ask you what to do, but i couldn’t move my fingers to dial the number. i was about to be a dad at seventeen, hell i couldn’t even do my own laundry at that time. i didn’t know what to do, and honestly neither did she. i knew i had to take responsibility, but before the opportunity was present she’d miscarried the baby.
that fucked with a bit, you know? i’m aware i wasn’t ready, but just knowing that this baby had lost a life it hadn’t even got to live, that really messed with me. it got worse when her friend later revealed she hadn’t actually miscarried but aborted the baby. i was enraged. my hand is shaking just writing this letter. she didn’t even give me the choice or the chance to be a father. sure, i’d be scared shitless and absolutely clueless, but she hadn’t even asked.
i felt like i’d lost everything that day. i’d been robbed the chance of actually being a father, the first person i knew and my closest friend here suddenly felt like a stranger, and for the first time i was forced to look in the mirror at myself. the pale skin and black bags hardly matched the person i once knew. the flabby skin from pounds shed rapidly disgusted me. i smashed the mirror, blood dripping into the bathroom sink as tears filled my eyes. i spent hours picking out splinters of glass and if you ever question the curse, don’t — i think my seven years just ended.
needless to say my final year only got darker from that moment forward. i’d disassociated myself from mallory, samantha fields taking her place under my arm. i hadn’t really felt much for her, and that was evident when she busted me sucking off her brother austin in the closet. austin and i dated for a bit after, but it wasn’t really going anywhere so we decided to just go our separate ways. we still had our nights though, mostly after our bloodstream consisted of three-fourths alcohol. it was strange you know, feeling nothing but their skin against yours. that’s all i ever felt, skin. i never felt any sort of connection or spark you often see written about or portrayed. it seemed as if it was borderline necrophilia, i was basically just dead inside. i think i still am.
everyone’s aware i’ve changed since my return, but i’ve never told anyone why. it was mostly a blur of drunken nights, some i can’t remember and others i’d rather forget. i think if i could redo it all, i would. i wish more than anything i’d never went to california, i’d never got into that fight, and i’d never became who i am today? am i even a who? i have a pulse, but does that really make me human? i don’t feel like i am. i haven’t in awhile.
this is getting long, i’m sorry i’ve written so much. i think i just wasted my time because re-reading this i can’t find the strength to send it. it was nice letting it out of my head though, maybe i’ll put in an envelope and tuck it under my bed to give the illusion of sending it. i think doctor phil or one of those self proclaimed life savers spoke of it once. i’m not sure, i can’t keep up with television, i’m still on season one of full house and that came out over ten years ago. it was nice though, saying all of this...well kind of. kieran, if you ever do by chance find this, know i am so grateful of you for always accepting me as i am, even as this messy, piece of trash the world now knows me as. you’ve never once tried to change me and i love you for that.
i’m sorry i didn’t keep in contact, i’m sorry i didn’t call, i’m sorry i never apologized, and i’m sorry i still probably won’t. i can’t, i can’t bring myself to admit i’ve done such shitty things to people who don’t deserve it. you’ve never done anything to deserve the way i walked away, and i don’t deserve you welcoming me back with open arms. you’re too good of a friend to me, you always have been. i wish i was better at showing gratitude, like i used to be. i wish i could say all of this out loud and didn’t need ten sheets of paper to do so. would you even be able to read my handwriting right now? probably not, it looks as if i never passed the third grade. my point is — i’m sorry. i’ve been so deep in my self pity i tend to forget to appreciate the things right in front of me. i’m sorry i didn’t call, i should have, i just couldn’t have you hear me like that. that wasn’t me, this still isn’t me, but someday i’ll be myself again.
sincerely,
deadly nut.
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maisiedix:
“ have you ever been so busy you feel like you haven’t breathed in like a week? that’s me right now. i’ve been taking all these crazy non-stop shifts at the rink, on top of kiddie lessons, on top of cat-sitting for ms. walker. plus – the cherry on top of the ‘on tops’, i’m so nervous about everything. like every single thing i encounter. i really need something, to like, take the edge off. suggestions? ”
“damn killer, thought i had it rough opening my own business while still delivering pizzas. speaking of – my last deliver actually complained because i spilled nail polish on their pizza. damn grandma, just scrape it off. anyways if you need something to take the edge off i have a box of goodies at my place.”
rswtrs:
“of course the first thing i did when i got back to Amber was order a large plate of fries at the nutty diner. i mean, these fries are the pinnacle of this town. if i could marry a food, it would have to be this. sorry, i’m not tryin’ to keep droning on about food, but the plane back here was so long that it’s ALL i could think about.”
“nuttys, really? was it really for the fries or the giant nut serving them? don’t get me wrong, good fries, but not the first place i’d hit up when returning to amber.”