#aegnus

[masensons]

TO: [email protected] ( @aegnus ) FROM: [email protected] SUBJECT: He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace...

Dear Bella,

            I considered writing you a letter, but I realized you might not enjoy snail mail. Nor could you possibly enjoy the pages and pages I would send you and emails require word counts. Lucky you. I find writing quite therapeutic, whether as a form of communication or perhaps in a journal, and talking to you in any way always improves my mood, so this seemed an excellent idea to better my mental health. Also, Esme suggested this might be more preferable to you than a phone call and I find she is often right about most things. Mothers usually have that quality, I think.

            How is Forks? Perhaps it feels an unnecessary question. Forks never really changes, does it? But I want to know your thoughts on it lately. Hanover is picturesque. I think you would enjoy it. Fall suits it well, I’d say, for how antique the town appears in the throes of autumn. The glow of it all inspires cinematic poetry and cinematic films alike, that is for certain. I found a little book store just the other day that I think you would be particularly fond of, but I had to restrain myself from purchasing anything lest I face your displeasure for gifts. I will just have to settle for relaying my assumption of your supposed joy in such a place over this email. Unless you might find the means for a visit.

            I miss you, Bella. I see you everywhere I go and I do not believe this will ever change for me. I see you in the press of cold fingers to warm coffee mugs and the steam that rises from those mugs to greet smiling faces. I see you in the weathered books collecting dust in the back corners of the Dartmouth library. I see you in the sun rise, the moon setting, and every evening, too. 

            Please do not feel obligated to respond. I only wanted you to know that I am thinking of you; it is impossible not to be thinking of you, Bella. I hope this email finds you well. Stay safe. Be careful with yourself.

                                                                           Yours,                                                                                 Edward

[masensons]

you ever just cry reading someone’s writing because me every time @aegnus posts anything ever

[divinityblooming]

"   𝗜'𝗗   𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥   𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘   𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗗   𝗖𝗥𝗔𝗣   𝗙𝗔𝗟𝗟   𝗢𝗡   𝗠𝗬   𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗   .   "

GRIZZLY   BEAR   ,   LET   THE   JOY   FILL   YOU   /   /   let   it   bubble   up   from   your   gut   ,   traverse   through   your   spine   and   s p i l l   out   of   your   lips   .   let   the   world   hear   it   ,   let   it   fall   into   the   CRACKS   of   the   earth   and   spread   its   warmth   through   the   roots   .   there   is   a   girl   in   front   of   you   with   sad   eyes   that   you   want   it   to   touch   .   birds   squawk   and   flap   their   wings   ,   scared   off   by   your   booming   ,   blossoming   laugh   .   flowers   burgeon   .      “   well   ,   bella   ,   that   can   be   arranged   .   ”   feet   flat   against   the   earth   ,   legs   poised   in   a   fighting   stance   ,   you’re   egging   her   on   .   “   c’mon   ,   ”   you   urge   ,   the   timbre   of   your   voice   suggestive   .   all   you   want   is   for   her   to   LAUGH   ,   for   her   to   loosen   up   ,      even   just   for   a   moment   .   “   try   it   .   just   once   .   ”

meme   starter   ;   for   @aegnus

[divinityblooming]

' don’t look at me , i had nothing to do with it .  ’  for   @aegnus

 BOTTOM   OUT   YOUR   HEART   /   /   crack   open   your   ribs   and   let   it    breathe   .   build   a   wall   around   it   .   protect   it   yourself   ,   werewolf   boy   ,   because   no   one   else   will   .   do   not   serve   it   to   her   on   a   silver   platter   .   she   does   not    know   to   handle   it   delicately   ,   she   does   not   know   that   the   slightest   jostle   will    upend   you   .   if   she   is   so   clumsy   with   her   steps   ,   why   would   you   trust   her      to   hold   the   softest   part   of   you   ?   it’s   not   her   responsibility   to   keep   it   safe   ,     and   you   know   this   ,   but   your   claws   SCRATCH   the   hollowest   parts   of   you   until   you   are   bleeding   and   lonely   and   ,   desperate   ,   you   give   it   to   her   anyway   .        you   serve   it   to   her   with   a   lopsided   grin   and   ichor   up   to   your   elbows   .   eyes    flit   between   her   hunched   figure   ,   perched   on   a   toolbox   ,   and   the   broken              subframe   lying   a   foot   from   the   motorcycle   .   “   are   you   saying   that   i   have        ghosts   ,   bells   ?   ”

[korezni-a]

@aegnus asked  :   ‘   is it my fault?  ’     /    soft angst starters    -     partly accepting!

fox shakes his head naturally     ,     an open and warm smile growing at the side of his mouth    ,    something tugging the corner of it upwards and adding to the unbothered display of royal’s status as he reassures her .   one gloved hand hovers over her shoulder too    ,    something just as usual for him as the shake of his head and the turn towards a smile     ;     always one to extend tactile reassurance first and foremost and following with words later on .  but he is not sure if she wants that    ,    all drawn in on herself as if to save every piece of her from whoever could dare to tread to close     ,    so he only leaves it as a feather-light pad of leather against the wool fabric of her sweater before he puts his hand back into the pocket of his coat .   better to not overstep      /     better to remain perfectly poised and perfectly agreeable     -      even when a bruise the size of his fist blooms over the left side of his jaw .   

but it is true    :     it is not her fault .    she has merely been in the crossfire of his dispute    ,    and has hopefully seen nothing like a gigantic bird with black wings falling from the sky and into a forest clearing     ,    and only an injured young man with a pretty bad bruising and a sore shoulder blade     -      the hospital has been mainly for appearance’s sake    ,    to keep the young woman’s fright and her worry at bay and have the world be assured that the foreign royal has not been hurt too greatly on american soil .  it is all an act    ,    but he can’t tell her that .   instead    ,    rasp of the lowered baritone as mild and kind as it can be around the accented vowels    ,     the king more at the front of golden bird’s masks than it usually would be among civilians .    “   nothing i can’t handle    ,     don’t worry about it .   you’ve just been the first witness to such a thing that is not part of my security detail .  happens to the best of us   ,   does it not?”