❝ don't piss me off ࣭ ❞ viscera drips from moonlit fangs, equal scraps of blood, muscle and skin between ruby lips. umber of gaze flares; pale, and lowly, contrasted against natural occults. though, his bite appears no less dangerous, from the crumbled heap at predator's feet. he unwinds, straightening to full height with glance over shoulder.
❝ i can smell you ࣭ ❞ eyes in direction of unwanted company, sneer revealing more crimson teeth. ❝ fuck off, or come out ࣭ ❞
YOU CUTOUT EVERYTHING OF US , AND NOW I FACE YOUAS A BLIND MAN. a david x katsuya fanfic in which david goes through news of katsuya’s abuse, his death, and then sees his rebirth. i haven’t read everything with him in it so i don’t no how canon accurate this is. but hey !!! also for @dkafterdark
SOMETIME AGO ; the news veins its way down to him bludgeoning shock in to the very core of himself. he’d left the old grounds he and katsuya called home both on the loss of him and the sense that his days at the station were tying him to requirements he’d not needed. in being a PI he knew that he could service a wider range of people before the law would even care to consider them worthy. and so when mike does end up calling him to inform him off katsuya’s death he is outside of the feelings of what they had and it takes him a moment to remember exactly who and what katsuya was. you see it had been said to him that he’d be left alone, that the damage of losing katsuya would undo him and in a sense it did. no matter how much he had loved thomas he couldn’t hold on because he felt as though he wasn’t worth the time, wasn’t good enough because katsuya had just left. there were no words, no time for understanding and it was at that moment he had cut the seams of hope and jumped into the stomach of self-loathing , both on the circumstance that the past actions he had wanted sealed had been opened and then left to plague him by katsuya and the fact that he had hardly cared to call or consider him anything but a past memory. he sits on his bed feeling as though he was lodged in the mouth of a nightmare and that any moment now someone would call and say it was a prank but when he looks it up he finds the obituary and he breaks down sobbing. there are mentions of a kidnapping of abuse , and of rape. his stomach turns over on itself and he runs to vomit, how long had katsuya braved the agony before it ended him? Why was it that they had to pull apart so fully he couldnt have gauged any sense of his fear against himself? he is tied in the arms of guilt, and all he can think of is how he had judged him, how he had thought to hold on to him when it was better for him to go on, and he knew that he could have called him and not let his memory become a selfish ridding. he sits there with his fingers grasping against his neck as though if he tore it open the time they did have would come back. that everything he had sealed in side would come out and give him a sense of peace. he cries and cries until fatigue puts him to sleep.
NOW : you question him with the way your body postures away from him, he thinks to just come back to life and into your life once again as though there was no issue. “ david , are you okay?” he calls out to you, you do want to touch him but you don’t there is nothing between the both of you now, that man next to him seems to be a lover and so your face bunches and your hands turn to fists to hold the pressure you were bleeding into. you turn without a word and you leave. he has a look of bewilderment as you do, and says something to the other man in what you assume is japanese and he follows you. the moment his fingers touch your shoulder you lurch out of your skin. “ don’t katsuya don’t touch me.” he pulls back as though you’d put a knife against his skin, and he tries to understand. “ david i am sorry i left i had to because.....” you swat his hands and you don’t turn to look at him. how can you find words on the feelings you had been feeling since that night, of how your heart had scattered and how .you had nothing left but a chasm in your chest. You ploy a savage timbre and you question him without turning around because if you did he'd see how much you still cared and it would be a victory for him because there was still a large part of you that wants closure, or even to be with him to appease the damage his going had left. and you can’t have that because if you and thomas had any chance to truly be what you had to be for each other you had to kill this . " so your alive?" there is a pause between you to, silence arcs madly between the moment until he breaks. “ you knew?” he inquires and you nod . shaking as he slips around you hands against your waist and chin against your shoulders as once you would hold him. “ i am so sorry.” you don’t hold him back, you don’t want to break, you want to keep the anger because you know why he did it , why he would fake his death but the pain you had gone through had shattered the singular chance you had at a better life. you leave him against you and you cry quietly. there would be nothing between you two no but blindness watching the other as the ghost that had ruined.
For tps2 I want a kastle reunion that doesnt involve frank needing karens help or karen needing to be saved. Like one day karen goes to her car after work and hes just there waiting for her. He reaches out to let her know hes alive and doing okay and then they go out for drinks or something
She’s leaving the office a little early -- Karen does that now, allows herself stolen moments to breathe. Always caught on the lip of a breaking story or this close to empirical evidence of a client’s innocence. She’s happy -- or she’s distracted, but sometimes they look the same.
Today though. Today it looks like a hand to her mouth in surprise while the other shakes, so she shoves it deep into the pocket of her coat and looks at the sky to blink back her tears.
She’s not going to cry for him any more.
“Hey,” Frank’s voice is warm, rough in that way that’s exclusively his and however angry she wants to be, the only thing that hits her is a wave of relief. He’s leaning against the hood of her car, Karen crosses her arm and regards him coolly, passively; like she isn’t about to catch him in a crushing hug.
Instead, Karen sniffs, toes a crack in the cement, and actively avoids his gaze (won’t be able to leave it, if she gets caught), “What’s that?” She lifts her chin to vaguely gesture at the brown paper bag at his side. Frank smiles and Christ, she’ll really never get tired of seeing the soldier at ease.
“I uh,” he ducks his head, scrubs at the back of his neck with blunt nails and seems to be steeling himself before opening the bag. Another potted rose, but this one is a gradient of yellow, tipped in red. She’s not a florist and doesn’t possess any amount of knowledge on what that means, but the white ones (that she’d miraculously managed to keep alive) made her heart sink.
These, make it race.
“More flowers, huh?” She steps off the curb, her eyes cut to where Frank’s fingers twitch, almost as if he meant to reach out to her but thought better of it. Good, it’s easier this way, when they don’t touch. It makes his goodbyes feel less like he’s taking the parts of her she’s buried in his heart with him when he leaves.
And he does, he always leaves. Karen stopped blaming him for that a long time ago.
“Yeah I uh, well -- Pete,” he corrects himself, almost looking bashful when his eyes go round and wide, locked onto hers. This was a mistake. “I got some time, you know? Yeah, I’m not at the top of anyone’s shit list these days, thought I’d show my gratitude the right way.” Karen doesn’t know what he means by that, but the tight white line she’d melded her lips into, loosens, and the pink on her cheeks rushes down her neck when she finally smiles his way.
“How noble,” Karen deadpans, and it just earns her one of his broken-glass chuckles. She has to bite her lip to keep composure.
“Yeah a real white knight, huh?” It’s winter, but the sun’s broken through the clouds enough that it’s glinting off the windows around them, the half-melted snow like prisms and it’s caught on the edges of his eyes. Unnerving, the way he can look into a person’s soul. She feels pierced by it.
Karen swallows visibly, “So how do you plan on showing me this gratitude of yours?” She arches a brow in an attempt to once more regain her footing.
Hint: it isn’t working because Frank’s standing now, a foot away, maybe inches. And she can feel the warmth of his broad frame.
Frank kisses her forehead, it startles her but she catches herself with two hands to his chest, fingers lightly pressed into the fabric of his thick coat. She shudders, and it rattles around in her mouth so that the next breath she’s capable of taking sounds like a sigh.
“ ‘m not ... good at this shit, yeah?” He shuffles his feet against the road-slush ice, half salt, and half calcified exhaust, “but I wanna.. I wanna try okay? Yeah, I ... you believed me.” Frank’s voice is that low, worn whisper that makes every word brand itself in her heart. Karen nods quickly, hoping that it disguises the fact that she can’t quite talk. “You believed me, you helped. You always ... you’re good and maybe I don’t deserve that but I think .. I think you at least deserve my thanks an’ maybe that’s bullshit too. Maybe I just wanna be selfish even if... even if I haven’t earned that right.”
Karen just throws her arms around him, on the lip of the road where it meets the sidewalk with hundreds of city goers passing them by. Her car left forgotten, the roses a tableau in her tear mottled periphery. She holds him, lofted around his neck with her face pressed just over his heart - Karen can hear the heavy, even beat of it while her own tries desperately to break through her chest.
“You can start with buying me a beer.” Her voice shakes, but she’s smiling when she finally withdraws and Frank’s smiling too, eyes glimmering when he gives her a shy nod in return.
“Okay but none of that imported crap, I always buy American,” as he rounds her car to open the driver’s side door for her, Karen grabs the roses, and gestures for Frank to take the passenger’s seat. It feels odd, after so many endings. So many goodbyes. So many be carefuls.
❝ fuck .ᐟ ❞ spat into the cool of late evening, almost midnight. ❝ can you believe that asshole ? ❞ followed by dull jangle of loose bracelets encircling her wrists, splendid silver against bronze skin. brisk pace winds down as they reach a lamp’s halo illuminating nearby street corner. femme’s side eye glares briefly at the club they’d just been thrown from a block down, huff escaping shimmery lips.
❝ so much for a fun night out . 'm sorry, babes . ❞ apologetic gaze is shot in their direction now, akin to scolded puppy dog. streaks of blood dot her lower lip, cut from own fangs in attempt to soothe temper. things would’ve spiraled if she’d actually had hands raised against her, but thankfully, the friend she’d made was all talk.
and had gotten way too close to her date, for wolf’s comfort. ever heard of personal space, dipshit?
❝ thanks for calming me down . ❞ it wasn’t fair cedes had let her beast take control of their evening. she owes them. ❝ what d'ya feel up to ? happy to treat you, if you're not ready to call it a night ? ❞ please don’t be …
the voice of the voiceless. a yuki yoshida fanfic.
you have always been loud. neon outlined and wholly center of attention but your heart was a spasm of over-felt emotions cloaked in a jovial smile. you were just two ,your mother and you and you watched over her the best the little you could. but then you crashed into him and things grew. you had found him by himself and he caught you between his eyes and you became his friend, holding his hand as his father was taken into custody, holding his hand through your school years and holding his hand through his firsts. you learnt as you grew up that there was something he filled in you. he gave you the quiet so that you didn’t always have to be brave and he gave you comfort to show that you mattered. and so you became his shield, you became the sound of him so he didn’t have to over stretch himself and you forgot that he was a person in himself and not a god to be worshipped and pleased alone. and that you didn’t have to concern yourself with being every part for him. and so when you drifted off to music leaving him to the side you didn’t see that he didn’t want gifts he wanted memories, he wanted to expand and be with you, not be perceived as some one needing distance from the world by you. you love him too much , there was no edges to your love for him but it blinded you at times and it brought the world crashing down on top you both. and so when you argued, when he questioned exactly how far you’d go for him in his feelings of entrapment, you decided that the best thing for him was for you to die. and so you drank out your fears and your sadness, and hanged yourself so that he could have what he needed.
do you see the way time dies in the pockets of your hands? do you see the monsters sticking to your breath like father's eyes? you had become everything you said you wouldn't . and so now you were the very fabric of deceit and rage boiled in the threads of you. is this how life goes on? is this how we were to be the beast and the warrior , a brother pair always to be at each others throats for one was more truer in our father's stomach? i do not know how we are going to move on but i do not want to kill you. there is no satisfaction in tearing into a man whose skin has been welted on the mistake of his parentage. you were made a curse on our father's folly and my mother's anger and so you were hanged out on guilt and destruction unloved for my mother always saw you as wrong. i do not want to kill you but i probably will.
from a brother who had it all to one who had nothing until he changed and became.
for the one who i meet in secret.
your name is glorified
by the unbinding of my skin, remade
by the fire touches you kissed into the
innocence i wore so tight.
but you are the red i eat
in rioting and so
i hide your scent behind my
ears. keeping the whispers of you
small until i am ready,
to have my eyes on
the end of this world.
i cannot have you battered before
i take my heart from them.
listen to me my love,
we will fit ourselves into
the stars once
this done.
