* BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME I HAVE A MOTIVE.

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡  private and selective roleplay blog for selina kyle of dc comics. heavily canon divergent and majorly multiverse. influenced by ed brubaker’s run on catwoman (2002 -2008) & telltale games. written with undying love by dee dee since 2012 ( she / her. ) medium activity. timezone: GMT, 25 + 

pinterest  //  rules & about  //  promo //  playlist

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

☽  ✧  ◦ ◦ ✧ ☾  find me over at @salvaaje forever my dudes !

[salvaaje-deactivated20220620]

☽  ✧  ◦ ◦ ✧ ☾  My love said never question your will at all, In the end you’ve got to go —— Look before you leap. 

                      starring    ‘  selina alejo  ’  written with adoration by Dev  

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

i was idiotic to forget how tough it is working out a new tag system. i’m stuck between wanting everything to look nice and also wanting them to just be fucking done. see, this is me procrastinating about them right now.

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

okay, so. i’m moving house. it was nice here and all, but to BE HONEST the neighbours were getting a bit lairy and i just fancied a change. truth being, canon has gotten the better of me lately. she just isn’t selina kyle any more, is she ? so, with that being said. please find me over at @salvaaje​ where i will be residing more permanently in the future

i will be transitioning over gradually as i have stuff i need to unpack and carry over - i don’t even have a promo together yet, so ! that’s it. that’s the announcement. just know i’m excited for the future and my writing and forever grateful for the wonderful jesse at @humanetic​ who has honestly been my biggest hype man during all of this and has supported me throughout this journey. and it has been a journey.

see some of you on the flip side maybe ? i hope so !

xoxo

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

honestly - if you hate me at my selina kyle, you’re not gonna be able to stand me in the next week or so. lots of changes coming that have been five plus years in the making. clean slating my way into the next stage of my writing and character development - my skin is clear and my crops are fed and watered ♡ ⟐

[ohnogone]

｡*ﾟ+｡.:*☆*   SIMPLE STARTERS  //   @justshadesofgrey​

*ﾟ+｡.:*☆*.｡       AFTER ATLAS  //   the concept of family takes meaning of difference.   unable to experience tender touches,   warming radiances through grassy fields,   settle down ‘neath hatched roof.  biological creations,  null &  void.    that is not vision experienced within one city either,  couples that remain united usually under the guise of bloodshed  &  criminal warfare.   the threat of chaos constantly looming where souls merely join together for the sake of feeling,  for the sake of sanctuary    &  trying to grasp ‘pon HOME that is merely figments of imagination.  of the past.    all coated in neon,   the smog of flying cruisers  &  warning sirens.    mind cannot even begin to mull over what was seen in programming,   plugged in with beloved where memories consumed  &  sanity dared to fade   //  but here,  in the real,  in the now,  you linger ‘pon the idea of family regardless.  your difference.   sit hunched over apartment table,   the dim light that hangs over head shining against metal,   not just the digits that you possess but what turns  &  turns  &  turns within chrome touch.   scallop edged silver necklace,   with tanzanite crystal nestled in the center  //   saw it outside window of ‘moon  &  stars’ pawn shop,  lights flashing on,  off,  on,  off  (  defective  !!  )   yet drawing you towards vintage jewellery regardless.  products of their time  &  yet  –   it looked exactly like necklace your mother wore within Atlas.    the glint of silver  &  blue    (  oh,  just like you,  lukas  )   ;    it begs for residence  &   you know exactly where home truly lies.         she rests,   sprawled like relaxed feline with stomach exposed,   against couch cushioning  //  hardly fixating as to what should have been you,  working on intel with packet of smokes  &  bottle of whiskey,  at the kitchen table.   instead,  work turns into thoughts   &   feelings  &  thinking about them,   &  you,   &  us.   stand gently then,  feel the ache nestling ‘twixt cybernetics    &   flesh,   the way glow ‘neath your skin pulses with heightening vigor.   call it nervousness,   call it anticipation,   call it love as metallic pads softly against carpet fibres towards her.   towards a soul you imprint with the notion of family,   the only family that you can ever truly need.  memories  &  lacking remembrance be damned.   touch of flesh curls around the necklace,   metal  –  as you crouch gently by her side  –  stroking ‘pon brunette tresses.  barely there,  removing  strands from forehead as if she were fragile glass.  she is anything but   –   but she is YOURS.   treat her like the universe,   like the world,   like home which she truly is.   ❛  hey  –   ❜   vocals husk with needing slumber,   the croak of nicotine that latches back of throat.  the tinge of anxiety that forces goosebumps over the pulse of neck.   you almost resent the disturbance of peace  !!  (  but when has subtlety ever blanketed you  ??  )  place the necklace within hand that rests over her hip,   give the gift of your entire soul in the process.   love language wrapped up in actions,   as they always are:  ❛  got you something today.  ❜

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

A MIND LOST IN SCHEMATICS AND SWITCHES ; --- distractions for an unsettled soul , breathing in and out slowly and steadily ---- half a cigarette still burning fierce orange in the ashtray on the glass table, lips and teeth grazing each other as you work to take your mind away from thoughts that linger -- memories ( not your own, but imprinted nonetheless --- ) of green fields and a lonely sycamore hanging over head -- of a sweet breeze and gentle words. eyelashes bat downwards as eyes finally relax -- burned into by the whites and blues of the document that now lays in your lap as you stretch out across the couch. flinch slightly as it moves --- text blurring across the thin film page as the information doubles again, your patience with it worn down to a nub --  so you give up, give in and allow a gentle slumber to roll over you -- you’re SAFE here remember ? with HIM. something you still have to tell yourself occasionally . eyes flickering shut, you barely notice movement -- only catching sight as they open again slowly and you look up with warm copper gaze to search him out -- his hands tight, something held within fingers and something on his mind. glorious hues of silver, blue and white back lit through the scars that dance across HIS body, they tell the story of how he feels - something that’s taken a little time for you to understand but it seems obvious now. your interest piqued with curiosity as he moves,  all good intentions wrapped in heavy chrome across the room -- you watch carefully, mouth parting as a smile forms with a gentle grace. a hard won prize that is saved only for him, a secret hidden away in the dark - together away from the city that hums synthetic beyond the window.

                        as he comes to your side you shift in warm shared silence, turning more toward his glow as you settle again, chestnut hues following his hand as he turns it out slowly -- like a flower unfurling, revealing treasures within --- how heavy voice burns into you, pin pricks dotting across the back of your neck as you look to the delicate silver chain and the deep blue stone that lays across his palm -- presented and taken slowly as you prop yourself up amongst the soft cushions and look with an expression so close to innocence that you feel your heart contract forcefully within your chest.

                            ❛  ----- for me ?   ❜  you know the words sound ridiculous --- head tipping to the side as lithe fingers dance across the stone, a flash of memory to a place so far away it can only be accessed in shared dreams. ( the one that hangs around her neck, the one that plays at collarbone as she leans forward to share food and laughter, to touch your hand with a gentle assuredness that everything will be okay  --- )  oh,  you’re so used to taking. taking what’s yours and what belongs to others. what is required. what is needed. but to be given something ?   --- a granite stone sits deep within you, a sadness that was sunken years ago. a melancholly that could only be moved by the strongest arms in the strangest circumstances. and it moves -- shifts for a moment, relief making your eyes narrow to avoid the moisture that surges upwards. free hand finding his cheek as you sit up, legs unfurling from curled position -- a clever tongue silenced for a moment before a soft laugh erupts - but it has joy tight at its core. anonymous thumb stroking at HIS cheek, you lean forward -- your forehead finding his as you draw closer, silver singing in your palm  ---- ❛  where did you find this ?    ❜

[breniarchive-blog]

*switches language to talk shit about you*

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

humanetic​:

｡*ﾟ+｡.:*☆*.｡        NO CYBERNETICS RUN THROUGH YOUR HUMANITY  //   futurism,  the way bodies can change  &  augment  &  fracture ‘neath what should be the road towards Death,  final resting places halted through Rebirth  [  fucking rebirth  –  ] ,   how it absolutely disgusts.  company of the OCPD nestles inside deep pockets of such highly regarded corp but that does not mean you believe in their sadistic practises.  as such,  skill comes from intuition,  the notice of body language towards those marked for arrest  &  oh,  how you do.   the widening of optics,  the barely-there exhale of shaken breath,   how sight flicks towards pistol-rested hand,  mere seconds before she is shooting daggers to your jades.  if the photograph not incriminating enough,   actions speak louder than grayscale ever can.   even the scorn that dispels,   the arms of defense that fold against chest,  prove the motive:  this man is far more than casual sleaze ‘tween synthetic sheets.   you already know this.   something far more,  grander than she dares to confess.   instead,  the venom through sarcasm  &  snark.  if she wishes to bite,  chomp harder.  break through the bone of bullshit  &  expose the marrow within.      ❛  you take pride in fucking a robot  ??  ❜  tapping ceases,  as fingertip rests against the photo,  revelation inbound  ;   the slither of side profile,  of just-there cheek,  that sees scarring marred by faint glow.  something perhaps civilian would not notice,  but to the trained eye  ??   detectives sight that sees cloaking augmentations ‘pon the daily,   robotics within the prescient,   within Rebirth itself.   scarring against human flesh showing white ‘neath illumination,   proof of skin stitching itself back together,  retaining life once again.   marks to hide chrome   &  robotic wiring emits slightly different,  marked with jagged edges  &  lines of silver.   stench of manmade enhancements,   what tries to be man nothing than mastered machine.   ❛    first strike,  by the way.  ain’t long before we hit three   &  we go down the hard route.  ❜

       shrug then,   straighten back  &   remove touch from paper.  perhaps she can have something,   a taste of respect,   a dash of kindness against a recipe bred for destruction.    for this will only go one way   ;   &  such certainty scorches within gray matter,   brands itself like cattle mark against your soul.   [   so fucking what  ??  –  ]   her choice,   after all.    just like every other lowlife within neon-drenched city,   always choosing the path of violence,  of barb ‘pon wrists  &  a lifetime behind bars.    perhaps you will never understand why white flags of surrender are RARE   //   even if the world lived in,  can make monsters out of the holy.   ❛   but hey  –  suppose it’s manners.   i know your name,  you should know mine,   seeing as i’m the one ending your fucking spree over the city.   ❜   if she wishes to see the glint of metal against waistband,  then indulge  //    pull asides your coat with free hand,  digits curling around cotton   &  reveal the badge of loyalty.     ❛  DETECTIVE FALK.    call me felix if you want,   ain’t going to change a damn thing even if we’re on a first name basis.   this is the last time i’m going to ask you  –   the robot from rebirth tagging along for your fun &  games.  that’s where he comes from,  right  ??   they all fucking do.  WHO IS HE  ??   ❜

THE LOOK HE THROWS YOU FILLS YOU WITH A DREAD ; deep down and buried beneath well practiced bravado and words that cut ---- arms stay folded across chest that barely moves, fingers rubbing along your forearm as you hold the silence for a moment ( for there is strength there, a strength you know well. words less said are better mended --  & none at all are even better. )  yet he bites first, words that cause a laugh to spring from between firmly closed lips -- eyes rolling, eyebrows lifting as you realise slowly there’s something else here. there’s a desperation. yellow tinged fingers tell you that much -- late nights, whiskey chasers and scattered information --- a reflection so different ; a man you no nothing of and yet --- you see the same glow from his eyes. the same animation --- the ache in your gut pools again, the feeling surging through you in waves. tongue darts out to lick at dry lips as you smile towards him ---                         ❛  you take pride in your work ? ' cos if i were you i’d go back to the pin board ---   ❜  you can’t help the snap as his fingers cease tapping glass, hard eyes and a harder stance as you stay fixed to the spot. his words are nothing you haven’t heard before --- it’s like they’re all coached by the same fuckin’ idiot -- strikes and warnings, threats of incarceration. none of it frightens you because you’ve seen worse - you’ve lived it. cool exterior, soft amber skin concealing a lifetime of bruises and near misses. splintered bones and a broken spirit, put back together with a will of iron. you forged yourself  -- he only sees the end result.

but he withdraws --- an inch given from him, you take what you can get. a name. a name that hits you like a bullet --- sinking deep into you and bursting through. a round that could leave more than a scar given half the chance. DETECTIVE FELIX FALK. fate is a strange one, isn’t it ? --- not that you’ve ever had a chance to indulge in destiny. serendipity is a word that seems too sweet for the likes of you.                             ❛  THE ROBOT FROM REBIRTH --- he was paid. I needed a heavy hand for a job. He stayed a few hours after, kept me company ---   ❜  take a step toward him now, eyes burning & flickering down to the badge that sits at his belt, medal of pride and devotion. Of justice ---- corruption more like.  ❛  didn’t know wanting some was a crime --- DETECTIVE FALK.   unless you have something to charge me with ?  ‘cos so far all i’ve heard is that i happened to spend some time with a man you can’t catch.    ❜

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

humanetic​:

｡*ﾟ+｡.:*☆*.｡      NOTHING BUT A CONSTRUCT  //  how incredibly easy for soul to speak such,  when unburdened by fragmented memories.   what ails you in dreamscape,  when slumber unfortunately shrouds  &   the constant bite,  bite,  bite of images that plague the mind.  intangible  ;   the blonde curls  &  white musk,   the scent of homecooked meals,  the wisp of wheatgrass through soft fingers.  a brother’s embrace.   a mother’s love.   how dreams merge into product of realism,   what shouldn’t even be possible  !!  for this is a program of zeroes  &  ones,  Atlas merely a mask into fabrication,  something to believe in ‘til the minutes are up  &  soul is thrust back into the real world,  unplugged by the system.   how poor tourist attraction,   coding scrambled as they read ‘pon Rebirth chip buried within neurons  //  unlock the depths of repressed memory,   pull from places of blank spaces  &   deleted childhood.   show it all through the construct selina brands unreal  //  but it is.  it is.  a product of time,  a memory of your own.  accept that fact  ??   perhaps watch your whole system fail ‘neath the weight of it.    ❛  i don’t  –   i don’t know.  ❜   anchor hold,   squeeze as words stutter.   null  &  void time for explanation    (   cycle rolls on,   eighty five minutes left  !!  )    as reminiscence unfolds before pained sight.        figure ahead begins to run,   hear the stomp left / right / left of trainers against crunching crops before the muffled bound on grassy lands ;   straight towards the both of you.   how free hand reaches instantly towards hip holster that does not exist,  for a weapon unformed in this timeline  (   she might see it as instinct,  but no.   this is SURVIVAL.  blast the soul that threatens your humanity,   that will absolutely destroy whatever sanity lays within gray matter  –  )   //   look down for split second,   where the fuck is it  ??   your first mistake.    unable to take note of the face that now stands before you ‘til warm hands touch ‘pon your own radiant skin.   how you can feel it,  the spark of nerve endings lost in realism.    the imprint of callouses  &  fingerprints  &  scars that line opposing hands that draw your sight towards him.   towards a face familar.  towards a mirror image  (  no  –  no,  not that  )   /    towards clone created by Rebirth  (  no,  not that either.  try again,  lukas.  say the word   )  ,   towards … 

      ❛  dumbass .  mamma said that you’d be late for dinner,  you always are.  ❜   it’s a grounding motion,  the way thumbs stroke your jaw,  the gentle shake of reassurance  (  he always would:  look at me,   for we are brothers.  we are together here in this life  &  the next.  we are one.  until there was none  –  )  ,  the way his jades meet your own with such ferocity,  they threaten to burn your sight.   how smile so wide,   toothy  &  aching at his cheeks leaves your soul in paralysis.   sibling affection,   twinned connection.  YOU WERE UNBREAKABLE.  mind can barely wrap around the memory,  of what lurks within your past before his touch pulls away  &   you are left ACHING.   left with a confused wanting,   hand squeezes against hers  &  oh,  how you wish to squeeze ‘pon his too.   see stranger’s actions  –  through teary veil  – move to beloved now,   arms engulfing her into sudden embrace,   the elation of a smile that creases over stubble-lined features.   sleeves of frayed hoodie shifting from the intimacy,  revealing tattooed skin.   your mind begs to remember,   you draw a blank.  yet you fucking feel everything.       feel it still as he directs words against her cheek,  drawing embrace into one last squeeze before the gentle pull back:  ❛   knew my brother wouldn’t have called to say you were coming.  lucky i can read his damn mind  &  told mamma to set you a plate.  hope you’re hungry,   she’s made enough to feed an entire army again.  ❜

THIS ISN’T REAL ;  it’s not ---- untangiable and powered by machine --- and yet you ache at the sight of the boy that runs towards you -- all limbs and a lopsided grin. a mirror image but so markedly different that you can’t help the way your eyes soften, a realisation that fills your heart more quickly than you ever could anticipate. Hands to face and a quick mouth,  HIS hand grasps at your own tightly and you can do nothing but respond, fingers unmoving -- fingers contracting around his own  ( and the warmth that fills your hand ---- chrome vanished, every crease of skin memorised at the back of your mind --- )  it’s not REAL but it BELONGS to him doesn’t it ?  this place, the people within --- a missing piece of a puzzle you’ve only just started to comprehend and pull together. in your world of neons and street lights, asphalt and surging glass that reaches up to dome’s protection - this is like nothing you’ve ever known  ( but he has known it --- the greens of the trees sway to remind you of the fact, the grass beneath your feet wet with a morning dew. listen harder ,  city girl.  born from darkness and the sound of a wailing siren, listen for a moment … not only the blessed ones have known nature’s touch.  )   your mind whirs with explanations -- of why you’ve found yourself here, of what kind of hardware could possibly cause this loop of HOME ?  fingers within fingers linger a moment you see a hand reach to his hip, recourse of violence so ingrained within him -- protect what you are and what you know, protect ----                                ❛ lukas --- i think we should ---  ❜  but you’ve no time, it’s pulled from underneath you -- mention of mother cuts you dry and you pause,  looking between the two of them, the luxury of an explanation drawn from your dry mouth -- swallow hard now, swallow and begin to understand as their touch lingers and the void within your own soul is filled with a light and warmth you’d forgotten so long ago ( the love of a sibling is never lost ; not really - it lingers and your throat, prickles with even the thought of her name. oh, maggie ---- )

a brother. a family  ----- a part of you wants to look away, give HIM  ( them... )  a moment -- eyes of jade that soften fill you with a sadness you didn’t think existed any more.  ( don’t let go -- don’t, hold on to me and i’ll guide you to shore … )  but the moment surges quickly inside the construct and he moves, the reflection -- he moves to you with a smile that extends warmly, arms reaching out, hands landing at your shoulders as he pulls you closer to him --- you relent, fighting instinct on touch -- bare skin and white linen swept towards his gentle embrace filled with nothing but hope. pinch yourself as he moves back, the stardust in his eyes shifting and you finally look, you really SEE --- dark hues widening for a moment, wondering --- turning you head back to lover with open lips.  HIS eyes almost liquid -- shimmering under the weight of emotion.                 ❛  sorry we’re late ----   ❜ you speak, dryness burning , trying to push down the ripple in your tone --- hand still in in his, fingers still entwined and holding on --- we can hold on, can’t we ?   ❛  --- we got lost.    ❜

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡  photos of selin.a ky.le   :   006 / ?  

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡  FIVE TIMES TOUCHED  //  SELECTIVELY ACCEPTING  // @humanetic​​

❛  I’M GOING OUT -----  ❜ you don’t even remember how it started--- both of you live so close to that vivid strip of scarlett frustration, running in and between yourselves, wrapping around you both and pulling pulling, P U L L I N G --  that it never takes much to P U S H over the edge into oblivion, into words that would be wrapped and buried down but are always spoken out loud. How else could it be ? your hands at the door, eyes full of fire and fury. you burn so intently, so brightly --- that the thought of settling the room ablaze SCARES YOU. you go to leave because it’s all that you know. you run because it’s easier than facing HIM and allowing this to consume you both. HIS hand at your wrist is strong, sudden as the power that flows from steel and cybernetics drags you back into the room --   a touch of flesh // beneath his chrome -- wrist relenting, giving in as your chin dips and eyes close. body brought closer, away from your EXIT and back into the ring -- so close, close enough that your wrist arches into his and you RELENT. muscles once prepped for flight now brought crashing back down to earth with a drag of gravity so strong , breath catches within your lungs. crashing into him as the deep well of emotion buried inside you threatens to overflow, forehead finding his chest - close close close now.  close enough to inhale him -- close enough to feel the words ruminate deep within, feel the ache grow inside you as words surge and you beg to hear them again, hear them forever --- oh, runaway -- now you have a place to belong, don’t you remember how that feels ? to be NEEDED and to need so much in return.  the door will need to be fixed ; but you ? you’re almost there, almost .

THE REGRET IS INSTANT --- your balled fist meeting his jaw puts out a shattering pain that runs along and down through your fingers, coursing along the muscles and sinew of your arm --- ah, sweet regret. your face still full of fury  -- curse words of your mother’s tongue flying and falling through the air -- some for him and some for yourself as his hands seek out your waist and you stand firm, own hand held in hand as you stay tightly bound --  unable almost, to look him in the eye. rage, rage of your mother and father, rage of your sister lost to demons and darkness, rage that boils and simmers just below the surface. HE won’t know until you tell him --- but how do you explain the inherited fury that flows through you stronger at each turn   - a touch of acceptance  //  as his fingers find the exposed skin and you settle, simmer.  oh my love , you bear it so well  ---  ❛  i know you didn’t, I ----- ❜ but what can you offer him as a branch ? what can you say to apologise ?  eyebrows furrowed together, not confusion, not regret for the pain which should have been anticipated, blinded by the red mist that always ALWAYS descends. your work, so close , so personal. ❛  mi cielito ---- don’t, fuck ow ----  ❜  hand aching as you ring it out, lowering it between you like a weapon cast to one side - you are the olive branch, my love ---  serves you right though, doesn’t it ?

❛  LUKAS  --  ❜   HIS name echoing in the darkness  -- rattling, unsure whether it’s been spoken or whether it’s simply hanging in the dead air that surrounds your body // crushing steel and concrete, dust that hangs in the air and fills your lungs ------- the ringing in your ears so piercing that you think it might last forever, senses dulled and listless for an infinity.. CARELESS --- pulse triggers and chances missed, a cough -- dry and deep as your lips search for more oxygen. ( where are you -- where ?  ) beneath you a familiar warmth spreads out from your hip -- enveloping you in a perfect bloom of comfort, a warmth that grows and floods down, over and across your limbs, seeping into the decayed earth below ---- and that’s where you feel him. feel him before you see him -- a shape, heavy and desperate as knees land next to you and the rubble that remains parts easily, broken beneath him. touch of need // as his arms pull you closer and you try to respond, eyes half closed to the lights that pulse from his angelic  form ----- ❛  lukas ---  ❜  do you hear yourself ? do lips move as you want them to or simply gasp for more, greedy as you try and fill yourself --- you breathe, finally HEAVILY and all you can see is him, all you grasp for is him [ asset ; listen to the heart that beats in your chest --- listen to the breath of life. all is not lost. ] it’s saving you both now, a hand clinging to the cuff of a jacket now covered in ash. a touch of mercy ----  Padre nuestro, que estás en el cielo. Santificado sea tu nombre…. 

A CONTENT SMILE ; warm and sated, so deeply felt --- curling inside of you as fingers card loosely through hair of gold --- dark eyes once full of lust, burning for HIM, now finally contented as you settle steadily into your pillow -- a shared afterglow that fills you with a certain warmth only this can provide. his body is littered with the marks of your making, ruby and amethyst runs next to steel --- as precious as any stone bound beneath the earth, you long to touch him ---- you long to soothe and cosset. but this time is precious -- this time is for him to FEEL what you’ve done together. ( precious boy, beloved -- pain you crave hidden so deeply beneath the surface, let me bring it closer into the light… ) the pleasure he feels from this is no longer a surprise, the joy it gives you when he writhes beneath your touch, the CONTROL --- leather bound at his throat, welts across his back, clawing at flesh and exposed instruments of destruction --  illustrated by your own hand and oh, he is the art you have so longed to create ! your life’s greatest passion in the flesh. you crackle with achievement and happiness ; his easy soft smile is like ambrosia and you drink it deeply now - a hand caressing bruises blossoming so delicately , blood at your fingertips as you seek him out --- ❛  you’re beautiful ---  ❜ words dancing across you lips, words that rain down on him as a balm, so proud --- a silent acceptance of gratitude as you lean to place a lingering kiss at his temple - touch of pride, touch of mercy  -- inhaling him again - every groan of agony he’s given rolling around inside of you still. you give everything to him and in return he gives you so much more than you could of ever known possible.  oh sigh, sigh now that you’re here together entwined  ---- ❛ so beautiful.  ❜

THE SIREN DOESN’T REGISTER AT FIRST --- the silence where you are is overwhelming, a moment of peace that finds a place inside of you, a peace you often wish would stay longer than snatched moments rarely won. eyes stay focused on the heavens above, only partially clear -- you wonder show much of it is real ? you remember to yourself the nights you spent under the same stars as a child and now here, laying next to HIM you breathe deeply - cool air dancing across exposed skin as you feel him reach out and pull you hand upwards. a kiss so delicate as blood dries against your cheek -- blood that’s not your own, blood that’s been hard won. eyes close, flickering tight shut. how long will it last ? this feeling, this wholeness of being --- you shuffle closer across the bonnet, head finding his shoulder in the darkness as his thumb trails across the scars that grace your fingertips.  touch of love // of words unspoken and silences held together, an acceptance than this is deeper than either of you have ever known, than you dreamed you would ever feel ---- the wail of sirens growing more distant bleed into the night surrounds you, covers you and protects you ( for now, lover -- for now. ) and for now this will do, you shift you wrap your other arm around his core, the sound of tech whirring beneath you and bringing COMFORT -- this is everything. HE is everything. and you couldn’t ever imagine another place half as perfect. 

[yokaimemes]

send me "five times touched" for a drabble about five times my muse touched yours!

it could be platonic, romantic, familial, etc!

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

humanetic​:

｡*ﾟ+｡.:*☆*.｡      ❛  DARLING  ;  didn’t you get the memo  ??  we’re the fucking OCPD,  warrants died the day the world did.  little light on the subject  –   ❜  norwegian bite through bastardized american  //  whatever accent one city holds,   HOME curls through.   the place you left for this,   for better opportunities within the police force  (  to find your brother,  that was the only goal.  still is  –  )    bend down towards glass table then,  the flick of lamp switch that engulfs four walls in amber haze   //   enough to illuminate roughness of stubble,   patter of hair strands ‘pon forehead from manmade rain,   droplets trailing down cotton fibres onto apartment laminate.   shoulders hold themselves tense,   for she stands in front of you,  with biting vigour  &  steel exterior.   tough nut to crack,  isn’t that the phrase  ??  one that will surely kick  &  scream within back of police cruiser,  some form of escape on the mind once she resides within interrogation cell.   we will get to that  ;    cigarette-stained digit pointing towards incriminating photo.   the other trailing,  resting against the pistol by your hip.   more of a warning,   A THREAT,   offer your questions  &  retrieve no answers  ??  the paperwork may have a few white lies as to how the grand selina kyle gained a couple of bullet holes.   [  felix,  focus.  a fucking mother’s blanket within irritated mind  – ]

.     ❛   we can do this the easy way,  or the hard way.   i really don’t give two shits what option you choose   –    but i’ll say this.   i can either hook you up with a nice cell,   one with a hologram that lets you watch anything   &  anyone you want.   nice fucking bed too.   or i can throw you into the lion’s den with all the other tweaks.  they see one pretty lady  &  they are like bloodhounds.   won’t be an inch of you that doesn’t get torn apart.   ❜     so tap photo again,   tap tap tap ‘pon mystery man that alludes every single database,  every ancient file cabinet,   every piece of intel null  &  void on the thief’s partner in crime.   [  oh,  brother felix,   if only the universe could tell you  –   same vocal inflections,  same broad shoulders,  same shade of tiredness tattooed ‘neath jade hues.  ]     ❛   tell me who he is.    choose the easy way.   you’re going to the clink whether you like it or not,   kyle.   there’s no fucking choice there but you can choose on this.   choose wisely.  ❜

FIGHT IT ; FIGHT THE WIDENING OF YOUR EYES -- the obvious stare as his voice burns through your tough exterior -- the tone familiar for a second before the effervescent glow of the tiffany sheds warm light on everything you fear. the gun at his hip is the least of your worries, although your eyes naturally trail downward to follow the path of his digits before flashing back to his face. a face so known, so adored --- a face that you know intimately, every cut and gaze, every bruise that litters the line of HIS jaw. But his isn’t the same is it IS IT ? it’s different -- it’s determined, tired. so very tired. you’d almost pity him if it wasn’t for the threat. eyes peel away for a moment, no matter how much you’re drawn to look and try and work out what the hell is happening, the feeling of shock settling in your stomach and rotting a hole deep within as he TAP TAP TAPS on the photograph cast down on the table. your tapered breath becomes ragged for a moment, control in your hands as they finally move upwards to cross over your chest slowly, a barrier --- protection ? none really, but your body moves in a way it can’t help. defensive till the last.                 ❛  so --- you’re here because you managed to get a picture of me and the guy i’ve fucked a couple’a times coming up the stairs ?  good work ... ❜  the tilt of your head isn’t exactly necessary,  but you never could resist poking the hornet's nest -- no matter where his hand rests, no matter the threat. no matter how he looks ; he’s OCPD and you know how they work.  you know how much money you have in satellite bank accounts --  just HOW EASY it is to find a way out when one is needed. this isn’t your first rodeo. not even CLOSE.   

❛   don’t know his name.  didn’t need to. so if you wanna drag me downtown for that, go right ahead ----- probably not worth the paperwork if you ask me, but what do i know … it is detective, isn’t it ?  ❜     oh shrug. shrug your way into feeling nothing obvious about any of this. no matter how quickly your heart hammers against your rib cage ; no matter how scattered your thoughts as you try and dissect his features and how you’re even going to talk about this later. no matter his threats of violence and harm (  it’s never frightened you anyway - you always endure it, every time. )                   ❛   you gonna show me your badge ? or do i have to give them a fuckin’ description when i get your ass written up later ?  ❜   oh lion girl --- you’ve never trusted them anyway, why give him an inch now when he’ll certainly take a mile ? self preservation is all well and good when you’re not in love ,  isn’t it ?

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ SMOKE WRITER ;  'And he took the cigarette from his lips, placing it between his own. He took just one drag, long and slow, and then, he breathed it out in the other's face.' You smile in front of your enemies, and puff in their faces the smoke. You like to see them cry, like to see them suffer. You write pain in the most elegant way, making it a candy that slowly melts on the reader's tongue. You may have limits, but you push yourself always past them. Love the challenge your comfort zone can’t give you. You are the mysterious person everyone has a crush on, the one that smiles in front of the storm and kneels in front of weak ones. And your writing reflects it. It charms everyone and, even if the exit door is there, your reader will never take it. You're the one who can take a trope, one so used that it's a cliché, and create something completely new. Your work is breathtaking, emotions described so well they feel real, and characterization that makes your stories pop out between all the others.

WHAT ELEMENT WRITER ARE YOU?

tagged by: @humanetic​  ♥

tagging: @vampresa​ , @exsovietspy​ , @enthrclled​ , @unbelong​ , @overlooksouls​ & anyone else who wants to do it - just tag me so i can throw you some love !

[justshadesofgreyarchive]

humanetic​:

｡*ﾟ+｡.:*☆*.｡      TRANQUILITY DOES NOT SUIT YOU  [  OR DOES IT  ??  ]   //  buried ‘neath the weight of memories,   try to reach out,  grasp ‘pon strands that constantly slide through cybernetic touch.   ribbons that cascade  &  fade like fine grains of sand.    except this,   try to explain it  /   you can’t.  this is real  (   tangible as one can expect,  hooked up to the wiring of Atlas.   make your own paradise,   create your own pleasure   &  apparently  ??   st. john decided to take a rain-check.  insert the drive:  homelife.exe  –  )   as she moves,  gaze briefly glances towards her forward motion.  wonder where she goes  &  it seems her comfort is chrome  &  steel.  note it,  the way she walks towards you,  rather than towards hatched cottage  and wonderous flora.  both souls bred for One City cannot become accustomed to what life could be like,  actual life  [  do not get used to it,  this is mere fabrication after all  –  ]   at least sage hues focus ‘pon beloved momentarily,   why  ??   for the noises that suddenly erupt:   the call of ‘lukas !!’  –  masculine,   strong vocals as figure exits the bounds of the abode.   faraway vision noting fraying hoodie covering broad shoulders,  the flecks of hair that cover someones eyes  (  too distant to see further detail   )   ,  how they wave with frantic intention.   how it prickles against the nape of neck,  like rabid dog backed into a corner.   the snarl that curls over mouth corners  &  brows furrowing.   how hand once marred with metallic,  reaches out to hold against her own.  subconscious contact,  do not even recognize what you have done as fingers squeeze,  the need for her warming anchor.  amber skin that you call home,  not what stands before you  !!      ❛  lukas  !!   mamma gjorde din favorit—-  did you hear me  ??   she made your favorite  !!    ❜   nordic blanket that shifts unnaturally into english    (  thank you,  atlas  –  )   ,   carries itself through autumnal breeze towards hearing sparking  ;   prior language something used within the real world,   now you question why.   everyone comes from somewhere,   you may not have been born within One City but it is the place that made you.   &  yet  –           ❛   ‘lina.  get us the fuck out of here.  ❜    hand constricts around hers like barb wire.  oh,   malice does not wish to collide ‘twixt flesh  &  steel,  but how the taste of poison coats the back of your throat.   muscles quaking ‘neath the weight of sudden fear.  mind melding into something that cannot be understood.  [  &  still,  the stranger calls our your name,  questions why you stand there without movement.   why can’t you move  ??  ]    stand like concrete pillar,  the roots of phantom wires sinking into the soil,  keeping you planted  //  keep you fixed towards the only soul you know to be real:     ❛   this isn’t right,   this isn’t fucking right.   i’m begging you.  do something.  ❜  

THE SECONDS SEEM LONGER ; it’s not possible -- you know that time here can be manipulated but it’s not supposed to feel like this, as if it’s pulling you backwards - not forwards and onwards. dark eyes searching his face, finally taking a moment to look beyond into the clearest forest imaginable  - cut green hues that somehow match him perfectly, the scent of pine drifting in, eyes flickering backwards --- losing yourself would be easy, wouldn’t it ? -- the bird song fills your senses with a sort of false memory, of a chance you never had, the chance of a childhood living somewhere like this. Oh , to lose yourself would be EASY -- but HE -- he is the anchor that pulls you closer keeps you firmly tethered to what is real and what is constructed. it’s in his eyes, isn’t it ? the lack of comfort, the unsettled bubbling of FEAR and a touch of panic - something you’re not used to. only flaring inside yourself when you hear the voice coming from the near distance, the call of his name - a language translated from one you vaguely understand to something so clear it makes your heart pound in your chest.                                   you don’t flinch when his hand finds your own, looking down briefly to consider the fact that it’s flesh, not chrome, that touches you and grasps for safety comfort STRUCTURE. you adjust - glancing upwards for a moment and understanding the urgency in his tone  --  ❛   operator --- end programme ... ❜

a pause ( a breath. ) a chance for the framework to kick in and something to adjust, to be ripped back into reality ----- but there’s nothing and his hand is searching out  your own so intently, so much that your fingers struggle within his grip, hand twisting to thread your own fingers through his and SQUEEZE back.  ❛   jesucristo …. end programme.  ❜  the urgency in his voice is enough to set the hairs on the back of your neck prickling, for your mouth to open and close in confusion as absolutely nothing happens ---- (  it’s three am --  late shift in the real and the operator has fallen asleep - a ninety minute cycle giving them a chance to catch a little shut eye in between clients. the CYCLE is LOCKED. Locked for your comfort and to assure you get your credits worth. it is locked and there is no obvious way out ---  ) HE is locked, loaded like a coiled spring and your breath deepens within your chest as it dawns that you’re both more powerless than you’d imagined. dancing and soft smiles seem so far away --- fingers gripping tightly at HIS to assure, to give some kind of solidarity. ❛   this isn’t real remember --- this is all constructed, lukas ----  ❜   a whisper of his name as the figure draws closer across the meadow and snaps into focus.  ❛   this isn’t mine ---- do you know where we are ?  ❜

[ohnogone]

.｡*ﾟ+ .｡.:*☆ *.｡    THOUGHT I KNEW HOW TO HANDLE MY EMOTIONS  //  ‘TIL YOU LIT THE FUSE,  TRIGGERED THE EXPLOSION ~  // @justshadesofgrey