do not wake me again.

ind. rp blog for nakahara chuuya from bsd. penned by peanut.

[gravitorn]

NAME!   call me peanut! HEIGHT!   5′4′′. NATIONALITY!   german. FAVORITE  FRUITS!   strawberries!!  but i like most fruits, really. FAVORITE  SEASONS!   autumn, followed closely by spring. FAVORITE  SCENTS!   i’m very much in love with the cherry blossom & rice milk scent my current shower gel and body lotion have.  FAVORITE  ANIMALS!   foxes!   TEA  /  COFFEE  /  HOT  COCOA!   hot chocolate all the way. AVERAGE  HOURS  OF  SLEEP!   6-9 hours depending on. a lot of things WHEN  MY  BLOG  WAS  CREATED!   january this year! RANDOM   FACT!   i’m allergic to peanuts lmao  FAVORITE  FOOD(S)!   anything involving pasta, chicken or both. + anything my mom makes. FAVORITE SHOWS!   i can’t pick favourites please don’t make m FAVORITE  MOVIE!   whines FAVORITE  VINE!   uh SEXUALITY!   not straight & growing progressively gayer with every passing day. PRONOUNS!  she/her. FAVORITE  BOOK  SERIES!  mm ... the black magician trilogy by trudi canavan, probs. FAVORITE  VIDEO  GAMES!  any zelda game really. breath of the wild owns my ass FAVORITE  BANDS!  too many, seriously ... talk music to m FAVORITE  SUBJECT!  back in school? english, probably, followed by music. GUYS   OR   GIRLS!   oh, you know. LAST  TIME  I  CRIED!   today!  i’m a crybaby WHAT  I  SHOULD  BE  DOING!  one of the dozen things i’ve been putting off, don’t remind m FAVORITE  FANDOM!  can’t say i have one!

TAGGED BY!  @live-let-live​!!  thank you!! TAGGING! @bloodviled / @null-lied / @toocorrect / whoever else wants to!

[ghostsandgoblins]

[gravitorn]

bloodviled‌:

          REGRET swirls like acid in his stomach, discomfort raging with every second he lingers in uncharted waters. Chuuya’s apartment is foreign— quite literally. Grandiose, expensive, and riddled with western decorum, it feels less like a home and more like a MUSEUM. In their haste, he wonders briefly how one man can justify the extravagance.

         The restroom, too, is spared no majesty, and he is no more at ease when the executive releases him at last. Akutagawa blinks the dizziness from his eyes and curses everything— the setting, the situation, the very man that stands before him, chastising with pursed lips. He sits in a slump, back arched and head hanging over his knees, one hand pressed against the split flesh at his side, and he feels it now— adrenaline anesthetic dies in his veins, leaving in its wake a stinging, burning, ACHE. It’s a blessing, though, that distracts him from the violation of his own presence.

         “ No. ” he replies, instinctively curt, though trepidation BURNS beneath his skin at the mere idea. First he traps him, then drags him to an upscale prison cell, and now seeks to fully DISARM him— ( Of course, it is impossible to seal a wound through layers of cloth, but Akutagawa bristles at the thought ). Hesitation hangs tense in the furrow of his brow as he slips he lets his coat hang like a phantom from his shoulders, and lets it fall around his arms.

         The pulsating pain that gouges at his side, then, is his punishment— for his hubris, he thinks, or perhaps vulnerability— and he GRIPS the fabric like a vice as agony falls from his lips.

         “ —SHIT. ” he hisses, white - hot with a frustration that refuses to die. This wound is a CURSE, some evil, festering thing that draws forth every kind of miserable inconvenience. Akutagawa hisses again, this time with vitriol, at the sound of Chuuya’s second approach, and swallows the urge rip his gloved hands from their sleeves. 

         It’s panic that fuels him now. Weakened, injured, and utterly pathetic, he cannot bear to be STRIPPED of his only weapon, his only comfort, and SCRAMBLES like a frightened rabbit away from the impending contact.                                                  “ DON’T— don’t touch me! ” 

he should have listened to his gut. 

chuuya realizes as much when the sharp hiss behind him nearly makes him drop the first aid kit, and he hurries back over in an instant, sharp gaze scanning his charge for continued signs of pain.  “ oi, oi, akutagawa— ” 

the withering glare thrown his way would not bother him, were it the only tell of akutagawa’s state of mind. but no — the stench of fear burns heavy in his lungs as he steps closer, and the way akutagawa writhes away from his fast approach screams past abuse so loudly it’s almost deafening. swallowing bile and frustration, chuuya slows to a halt and takes a long, deep breath.

he really doesn’t know how he got stuck taking in a stray cat, but here he is now, and he’s going to try his damnedest to finish what he started.

“ breathe. you’ll just make it worse. no one’s gonna hurt ya. ”  they’re perhaps a little rougher ‘round the edges than they should be, those words; but they’re meant to soothe, to placate. chuuya sets the first aid kit down onto expensive tiles and sinks to his knees before akutagawa’s hunched form, bright eyes seeking his, searching for understanding. 

“ look, i’m just tryna help you, alright?  i’ll even tell you what i’m doin’ if that makes ya feel better. ”  

his bloodied gloves stick to his skin when he peels them off his fingers to toss them aside. the hat follows suit, set down somewhere behind him far more gently, and he allows his coat to meet gravity now as well, unwilling to direct part of his focus to keeping it on his shoulders when there are more important things to pay attention to.  

chuuya’s mind is a mess of things; his thoughts are racing, trying to piece together the root of this behavior, trying to make sense of a reaction far too exaggerated for the situation at hand — but he knows he ought to leave it be for now. there is a lot to unpack ... later. for now, akutagawa’s well-being comes first.

“ we gotta get you out of that coat and shirt first. can’t treat a wound if i can’t reach it, yeah? ” 

[gravitorn]

irregularity.

[gravitorn]

live-let-live‌:

A finger raises, parting from the others gripping the glass to drop into a soundless tap against the surface behind the cocktail. Akiko’s leg shifts over the other as she brings the edge to her lips, taking a smaller sip than she had before. Though the detective agency and Port Mafia appear to be locked in a truce of sorts, it does not alleviate much suspicion on the good doctor’s eyes. She lets the sip dance on her tongue behind closed lips as she ponders on the off-chance that the mafia executive had come simply because he “fancied a drink”. The liquid soon trickles down her palette after such a lackluster attempt to briefly busy herself.

Through mid-peripherals, she notes the careful sip of Chuuya’s wine. The quicker notion of him doing so the very moment the glass was settled before him might have increased the chances of him telling the truth. It appears to have made the statement more plausible. The thought of initiating further is certainly no better than bringing her glass to her mouth again after relishing such a small sip for an actual one. Though she would have to admit that her younger self did prefer something like this. It is an embarrassing thought now that those days have passed.

The evening carries itself, passing along the mingling voices. Time tucks itself among casual conversation surrounding them and within notes of clinking glasses and silverware. A hum sounds behind closed lips, a smile smoothing away any potential rise of tension by such a simple inquiry. This is far from a confrontation. A slight duel of wits, perhaps. Nothing sort of a tiptoe as she feels no fear this moment. It will be a dance. This night may prove to be a bit exciting after all.

“Another uneventful day passed during this uneventful week,” she says, her voice dragging at the thought of the lack of activity lately. “Considering how temperate it has been lately, I figured I ought to make something of it and maybe even try to add some semblance of excitement by stepping out of my comfort zone some.” Akiko gestures to her drink in hand. Her arms cross, overlapping over the other arm while maintaining a relaxed posture as she and he seem to slip into casualty.

“But you’re also here on a weeknight. Don’t tell me it’s also been dull for you too.”

the doctor seems wary, indeed — but not overly so, which is an intriguing observation. the slow spark of interest in this encounter’s potential that glitters in her eyes does not pass chuuya by, and he mirrors it from start to finish, a playful challenge dancing in bright blues. 

her explanation is airtight, if rather boring at the core; there’s nothing fun about a lull in jobs, though chuuya can’t say he’s experienced that much. an executive hardly ever runs out of things to do, and the port mafia is too large of an organization to find itself short on work. the only thing of interest  ( beyond her desire to experiment with drinks, perhaps )  is her dissatisfaction with a lack of work, implications clear tied in with the nature of her profession. A complaint about lacking patients to treat? What an interesting woman. 

a smirk unfurls on chuuya’s lips, lazy like a cat stretching out in a patch of sunlight.  “ lookin’ for work, doctor?  i’m sure i could find you some if you're that bored. ”  

he twirls his glass between gloved fingers, posture relaxed and almost a little distracted as he mulls over his reply to the rest of her statement.  “ quite the opposite, actually. it’s been ... eventful, you could say. ”  

today’s mission was supposed to go far more smoothly. irritation still lingers in the curve of his spine — at himself, at the gall of that small-fry gang leader, at his lapse in judgement. there had been no casualties, today, but he could only attribute that fortunate fact to lady luck. the injuries sustained by some of his command were harsher than they had any need to be — it had been their victory, of course, but it still felt like a failure. if he’d just done better, anticipated the actual scale of the ambush instead of underestimating that bastard’s guts and manpower ... 

hm.

he takes another swig of his wine.  “ i can’t claim to be short on work, at least. ”

[gravitorn]

hathlived‌:

     “ yowza — ” 

     mild surprise spread on tanned features, dean’s eyes turning wide with amusement over the reaction he’s managed to poke out. he even leans back for a slight second, though only to return on his feet, towering over the other. he can’t say that he isn’t amused, because he is. it’s remarkable how someone can be so touchy about their own appearance and dean takes in like any other cheap show; “ — it’s not something i think, but something i see — ”

     the edge of the building has been left, and how hands display to each side of his body, clearly trying to show off what he has to — offer. what the offer holds is a leather jacket, meant to increase his COOL IMAGE ( ! ) as well as mismatched hair dyed in the colors of black and orange. if anyone where to think twice about this guy’s overall appearance they’d easily mistake dean for a mutant match. the red leather alone is more of an armor if anything, and knowing the troubles his agency went through with making it, he can’t help but to snort at the discount in front of him.

     “ i’m someone cooler than you ! and someone who looks much less shady than you !” hands are then brought together in a quick clap, dean’s eyes scanning him. “ what’s up with that scowl? are you a cheap disney villain too? ”

the nerve this guy has. chuuya is acutely aware of the way he’s purposely towering over him, and frankly he is one step away from dragging him down to his fucking level — except that he doesn’t exactly feel like causing a scene in public. a mafia executive knows better than that. 

chuuya finds himself rather unimpressed by the stranger’s attire; while the pieces individually don’t even look too bad  ( he thinks his teenage self would have found that jacket rather enjoyable ),  he has done an absolutely awful job of putting his outfit together. it’s so garish that chuuya can’t decide whether he wants to laugh, cry, or drag the man to the nearest tailor for a makeover ... though he’s clearly too much of a dick to deserve the latter.

chuuya’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance.

“ cooler? less shady? sorry to break it to ya, buddy, but you look like a guy who tried desperately to be accepted into a biker gang but got stuck loitering on the streets ‘cause he wasn’t cool enough. kindly fuck off. ”

could he get away with just ... leaving? he’s certainly going to try.

[kugosuggestions]

Don’t forget to smile while intimidating someone.

[gravitorn]

bloodviled‌:

         Even as he kneels, barely conscious through a violent fit of coughing, his face just inches from blood - spattered concrete, Akutagawa cannot swallow his pride. The stubbornness corrupts all rational thought, leaves him a desperate mess, writhing in his own chagrin. It’s pathetic, he reminds himself again, and knows by the fire on Chuuya’s tongue that he most certainly agrees.

         And yet, he still squirms like an animal in the executive’s arms, for he despises this most of all. One arm hooks beneath his knees, the other across his back, and in an instant he is HOISTED from the ground and away from the sliver of situational control he had left. The contact sets fire to his skin, makes his every nerve shriek a distorted choir of hypervigilance, and instinct BEGS him to rip the arms that confine him from their joints. Perhaps he would, if it were any other time with anybody else.

         “ TCH— ” he scoffs, derisive despite his reluctant compliance. Still, he shifts one pale ( and infuriatingly shaky ) hand over his side, and allows his head to fall limp against the executive’s chest.

         He is only half - aware of the journey towards the penthouse— just barely conscious enough to recognize the frightened whisperings of straggling onlookers, the nauseating rise and fall of an elevator, and the distant sound of an opening door. It’s only when they’ve crossed the threshold onto upscale hardwood that Akutagawa wills himself to speak again.

                                                        “ —Put me down. ”

“ stop squirming, it won’t make me drop ya. ”  frustration and annoyance saturate every syllable he snaps at his charge. simply put, chuuya has reached the end of his patience, and he’d very much appreciate it if akutagawa didn’t make this any more of a hassle than it already is. struggling like this will only aggravate the injuries chuuya hadn’t been able to take full stock of yet, and he’d much rather know them taken care of than watch akutagawa hurt himself any further. 

he strides into the foyer with all the confidence he can summon, wearing a face that tolerates no nonsense whatsoever. in the wake of his billowing coat, chuuya’s presence fills the room to an almost oppressive degree — it is the impact of someone who holds power and status and knows it, and he steps into the elevator unimpeded, uncaring of the looks and whispers that follow him. the staff knows by now that any blood staining the expensive carpet will have mysteriously disappeared in the morning.

at least akutagawa keeps silent. the elevator ride feels longer for it, but chuuya is silently grateful that he’s spared more pointless arguments. he’s already aggravated enough as is, keeping a tight leash on his anger, and the quiet gives him the needed space to focus on the concerning state of his subordinate instead. god, he feels so fragile in his arms — so much smaller than usual, breathing ragged and body tense and the bitter tang of copper drenching the air — that chuuya wonders anxiously if he’s made a miscalculation. the medical ward surely would have been the better choice ... 

a soft ping announces their arrival at the top floor, and chuuya wastes no time carrying akutagawa into his home, single-handedly disabling the locks and palming on the lights as he goes. not a thought is spared to the mild annoyance that is having to clean up after himself later;  he walks in without taking off his coat or shoes and makes a beeline to the spacious bathroom. 

akutagawa’s demand is met with a roll of the eyes.  “ i will in a minute, damn it. calm the fuck down. you can’t walk like this. ” 

true to his word, chuuya does set him down moments later — he eases him carefully onto the closed toilet seat so he can look him over. in the stark light of the bathroom, akutagawa looks even worse off than chuuya thought, sickly pale and exhausted. chuuya eyes him critically, trying to gauge whether or not he’d be able to disrobe on his own in this state, and decides against his better judgement that he’d extend an olive branch and leave that choice to akutagawa.  

( he has a feeling he’ll regret that in a moment, however;  the man is nothing if not ridiculously stubborn about receiving any kind of help no matter how much he may need it. )  

“ let me grab my supplies. d’you need help with your coat? ” 

[gravitorn]

bloodviled‌:

         Despite the ACHE that radiates from his core and the ceaseless pounding of his heart ( overexertion, his own exhausted body BEGGING for a moment’s rest ), he maintains his fighting stance. Spread feet and curled frame, like an injured cat with claws outstretched, ready to strike at the first inkling of a threat. The fight is over, and he knows this, but Akutagawa has come to expect DEGRADATION post - session.

         And yet, it never comes. There is no anger, no frigid THREATS that echo like a thousand hellish voices from the warehouse walls and feel the dead space in his chest. No, it’s much more level sound, a voice that knocks politely on the walls around his troubled mind rather than CRASHING like a wrecking ball through the careful brickwork. Potential is a word unheard of.

         He looks up suddenly from his shame and stares, open - mouthed, at the back seam of Chuuya’s billowing coat— and it is Chuuya’s this time, for the MIRAGE of his old teacher’s expired tenure melts in a wave down his back. The executive is not soft, he knows, but nor is he SADISTIC, and for the first time in his life Akutagawa finds his black - and - white perceptions turning an ugly, muddy grey. 

         He stands up straight now, hands creeping into the pockets of his coat for some semblance of stability, and wills his tired frame forward. His heels click dully against the concrete as he moves, unyielding, to Chuuya’s side. OH, how he loathes to see another back turned on him.

         “ I am taking this seriously, ” and he DOES, perhaps too much so, but one icy glance to the side, at the reluctant curve of the executive’s frown, how knows he’d rather do anything than clean up Dazai’s rancid leftovers. “ Are YOU, Nakahara - san? ”

chuuya’s coat settles upon his shoulders, bringing with it a sense of comforting familiarity. his hat follows suit, placed atop his head with casual elegance despite the obvious care with which he holds it in gloved fingers. minding his appearance has become second nature to chuuya by now, and careful consideration lies behind the way he presents himself, the way he strives to always look put together. 

as akutagawa steps up beside him, he is met with a sidelong glance. sharp eyes take in the other’s state; he certainly does a good job at hiding his aches behind a nonchalant posture, but chuuya knows better than that. akutagawa will be feeling this session tomorrow, and quite distinctly so. 

but battered and bruised as he is, akutagawa has not lost his bite. his jab is unnecessary and frankly rather insolent — and chuuya may give little damn about politeness, but he does expect a measure of respect.  

“ i always take my orders seriously. ”  biting words, punctuated by a look that speaks volumes: chuuya is well aware of akutagawa’s tendency to go off on his own and interpret vague orders as he sees fit ... with often violent results.  “ as should you. ”

deciding that that should have been enough of a reprimand, chuuya lifts his arms into a stretch and then crosses them behind his head, a soft exhale accompanying the gesture. he eyes akutagawa for a moment, then turns and begins to head toward the warehouse entrance, coat gently billowing after him. his next words are called back over his shoulder, casual and dismissing — babysitting is over for today.  “ i’ma go grab something to eat; you should do the same. a good meal’ll help ya regenerate. ”

[bloodviled-blog]

                                 “ —HE UNDERSTOOD,                         far more deeply than anyone else,          the loneliness that lurked beneath his jaunty mask. ”

                                                        priv. ind. sel.                                            RYUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA                                                    bungou stray dogs                                                   WRITTEN BY DAN.

                                 RULES.   •   ASK.   •   STATS.  

[gravitorn]

{  hey y’all!  sorry for my recent absence, i was hosting a friend for the last week and a half and couldn’t really pay much attention to tungle. i’m back now though and will try to catch up with things tomorrow and in the following days!  for now i’m here and i am gonna try to write a little, but i’m kinda sleepy and exhausted, so — no promises lmao. either way, i hope everyone’s been well!!  }

[starapture]

[nullied]

And orphans !     Let’s fit some ORPHANS !

Indie.  Priv.  Sel.  Real low activity.     Osamu Motherfuckin’ Dazai

A K A   :   follow a waste of bandages

[gravitorn]

bloodviled‌:

         GOD, every second spent leaning like a lame dog is one spent in agony. Shame swells like like a wave in his chest, but still, like a dog, he obeys, allows himself to be carried, coddled, and chauffeured in some humiliating display of— what? CONCERN? Or, perhaps, pity? He scorns the sentiment either way, and keeps himself pressed against the driver’s side door. 

         Chuuya, it seems, is ill - content to leave him alone. It’s already CLAUSTROPHOBIC, too many bodies in one space, and the air is hot with excessive breath, but the executive insists on providing his unwelcomed support. Akutagawa can’t understand it. He can’t understand why, even now, he takes his weight, why he seems so unconcerned with the foreign blood that stains his vest, why he WASTES his energy in the name of a useless suboordinate. There is no place for compassion in the mafia, he thinks, and can only idly wonder at Chuuya’s hidden motive.

         The car ride is short ( but not short enough ), and spent in frigid silence. Akutagawa maintains his indifference throughout, expression shifting only when a speed - bump aggravates his gaping wound, and as the armored car rolls to a halt, he is entirely too eager to escape the putrid stench of blood - soaked leather. One hand pressed against his side, he walks.

         “ I’ll manage. ” he spits hard ice, and SWATS a pestilent hand before it dares reach for him again. It’s a NUISANCE, all of it— from Chuuya’s tired, disapproving glare to the spots that blur his vision, and the ragged thread of his patience threatens to SNAP at any moment. 

         It hasn’t the opportunity, though— he makes it as far as the curb of a bougie apartment complex before the BLOOD LOSS brings him to the concrete, and he’s battling dizziness on his knees like a mad dog in the ring.

the car ride is short and tense. chuuya spends it watching akutagawa out of the corner of his eye; studying his state, trying to gauge from the way he holds himself and the expressions flitting across his face just how badly wounded he really is. it’s hard to tell without getting a good look at the wound, though, and by the time they arrive he’s no smarter than before.

akutagawa is out of the door before chuuya can stop him, and he hurries to climb out of the car himself, a protest ready on his lips. 

“ wait, let me h— ”  but akutagawa wants no help; that much is clear. harsh words crack like a whip despite the roughness of his voice, and chuuya frowns at his misplaced stubbornness. concern is written all over his face as he watches the other stagger forward, so obviously struggling that it almost hurts to observe. 

when akutagawa’s knees give out, it is only his ability coupled with his quick reflexes that allows chuuya to keep the idiot from seriously injuring himself further. in the end, it isn’t akutagawa’s patience that snaps first — it’s chuuya’s.

“ aight, that’s enough, ”  he declares, voice hard and unyielding. he’s by his side in an instant, gathering him up in his arms without waiting to hear his protests. god, the kid is way too light, and there’s blood everywhere. he should have taken him to the mafia’s infirmary from the get-go, damn it. that’s what he gets for trying to make akutagawa comfortable.  “ shut the hell up and keep pressure on your wound, you moron. and don’t you dare pass out on me. ”

that said, chuuya marches towards the building, intent to waste no more time on pointless baby tantrums. 

[gravitorn]

do you know  w h e n  it's alright to chicken out  

            and  go home  ? 

                        ... there is  n o  such time.

                                   IND  SEL  PRIV  RP                              — nakahara chuuya —                                        ( bungou stray dogs )     

as loved by peanut  /  promo graphic by the wonderful @hathlived  /  personals do not reblog !

[phantomemes]

support the author  /  feel free to change things  (  such as pronouns  )  as needed !

“ these are the empty pews ” “ it’s much too late to repent ” “ this is your unmarked grave ” “ what else is there to live for besides your one true love ? ” “ you never thought i needed protection ” “ did i ever even have a choice ? ” “ he told me i was an obligation ” “ you make me forget what it feels like to miss someone i was never allowed to call mine ” “ are you my antidote or my poison ? ” “ this story may be cliche  ,  but it’s ours ” “ is there really any way it can end other than in bloodshed ? ” “ i’ll lick your wounds and then you’ll do the same for me ” “ if you start to keep score  ,  can you still call it love ? ” “ brace for impact ” “ this girl right here is a fucking goner ” “ with you there is no faking it ” “ this boy  ,  he’ll be the death of me ” “ i was too young to realize you were the one that should have known better ” “ i never did have an ear for music ” “ when night falls  ,  my monster tells me he loves me ” “ you always did crave the taste of your own lies ” “ this love leaves bloodstains ” “ i’m so fucking sorry ” “ it was exhausting for both of us ” “ you are the bruises and teeth marks i find all over my body without remembering how they got there in the first place ” “ this isn’t a haunting  ;  it’s a hunting ” “ it’s probably a good thing that god forgives sinners like me ” “ i can’t tell the difference between you and the dead of winter ” “ at least winter makes way for spring ” “ i can’t decide who it is i’m more frightened of ” “ i would do just about anything to make her disappear ” “ if you’re looking for your perfect victim  ,  then you might as well set down your lanterns ” “ you won’t be able to find her here ” “ i’m the fairy tale everyone forgot about because the lesson wasn’t pure or hopeful enough ” “ i don’t excuse her and you shouldn’t either ” “ couldn’t you at least try to hide it ? ” “ i never knew you could grieve a breathing man ” “ nothing but a coffin in my ribcage ” “ you remind me of the way flowers bloom so furiously in spring ” “ are you breaking her like you broke me  ,  or am i just that special ? ” “ nothing makes sense with or without you ” “ my body didn’t know what it was like to survive without you ” “ you took things i didn’t know you could take ” “ it seems you never learn  ,  either ” “ either take everything i have or drop it all and walk away ” “ darling  ,  you are worthy ” “ you can do this  ,  you know ” “ let your heart take its time ” “ there’s someone else seeping in through the fractures you left ” “ if you’re never going to leave me  ,  then this is me leaving you ” “ find a new partner in crime ” “ someone i used to know told me that love was forever ” “ don’t try to waste your time again ” “ i’m sorry i didn’t know how to stop the pretending ” “ they didn’t deserve this ” “ some people are never worth your words ” “ come  ,  take back your hatred ” “ you can have my forgiveness but you can’t have me ”

[phantomemes]

I HOPE THIS REACHES HER IN TIME .

poetry starters /  memes taken from r.h. sin’s work  ,  available here .  feel free to change pronouns  /  genders as need be !

“ someday someone better than you will love her in all the ways you couldn’t ” “ the truth was just an attractive lie ” “ don’t you miss who you were ? ” “ who you became took over your life ” “ you wear sadness like the latest fashion ” “ do you even remember what it felt like to be happy ? ” “ have you forgotten yourself beneath your troubles ? ” “ all of this for a heart that doesn’t deserve yours ” “ either way it all catches up to you ” “ aren’t you tired of this shit ? ” “ all you’ve felt is defeat ” “ the girl you didn’t appreciate will get tired of loving you ” “ you should’ve tried harder for her ” “ one day you’ll understand ” “ you were the thing keeping me from happiness ” “ my heart is searching for a feeling that doesn’t hurt ” “ i understand your silence ” “ you are not alone ” “ you deserve so much more than what you’ve been given ” “ you are more than just a body count ” “ we learn the hard way ” “ it’s time to free yourself ” “ it’s almost as if her soul is a pack of wolves ” “ you can miss people but you don’t have to want them back ” “ you can forgive people but you don’t have to give them second chances ” “ empty yourself of all the pain he caused you ” “ you will be ready when it is time ” “ you are not your past ” “ be here , be present , be more ” “ your story mustn’t finish ” “ i won’t judge your or criticize you for doing what you’ve done ” “ i only wish you wished for more ” “ you are more than just something to do for the moment ” “ it is you who will save yourself ” “ there are so many wars going on at night ” “ we sway like a bed of roses in the wind ” “ all i see is fake kings ” “ are we still pretending that it doesn’t hurt ? ” “ the heartache will teach you ” “ you hid yourself from the world ” “ the world betrayed you ” “ a love like yours is worth climbing the wall ”

[ramonameisel]

He could taste damnation on his tongue like a thick coin made of iron. God’s presence was haunting him. Sometimes it crept along his spine and nestled between his bones. A holy thing, meant to ache.

Excerpt of Chapter IV from Absolution r.m | buy me a ko-fi