#angst verse

[thecosmicsen]

to: Min Inhye ████ ██ ███ letter from █████ prison

Inés,

well done.  you must be so proud of yourself for this one,  huh ?  how does it feel to receive a letter from me,  knowing that you put me behind bars ?  you think you won this fight.  in some ways,  you have.  you flexed your limitless black cards,  your billionaire status,  the corruption of our system with the amount of officers in your pocket.  I recognise that you fucking roll around in a bed of infinite money.  I used to look at you in awe for your ambition and this still can make me look at you in awe.  this time,  I am also grossed out that you would go this low.  it shouldn’t come to no surprise to me considering what you are.  for some reason,  I still had some hope left in you that you wouldn’t do such a thing to me.

but I’ll happily return back the intensity darling.  just because you got me in solitary confinement doesn’t mean shit.  wanna guess how I acquired this pen and paper.  guess how I bribed a guard to deliver this to you on my behalf  ?  I have my ways.  you aren’t the only one with ambition.

yet you made a stupid move.  a petty move.  I’ll tell you why. 

but first,  thank you.  I have sunken in countless reflections.  you make me think a lot,  just as it has been like since the day I first met you.  but since you have put me behind prison bars,  I have had a lot of time to think.  sit.  reflect.  I thank you for that because it has brought me to a lot of realisations.  

number one,  I realise that all this amount of hate in my body towards you and Cyril means my ambition to be stupid and petty like you is on the same level as your demonic nature.  

number two,  this level of hate I have in my body right now means I can go above and beyond my capabilities right now.  but guess what  ?  you have taught me the art of patience.  I am controlling my inhibitions right now.  all it takes is one spark from me to fly and I’ll have the entire prison block fucking crumbling down from a whirlwind.  but I won’t do that.  

that leads me to number three,  I am going to wait this out on my own time.  I love persevering.  I haven’t forgotten how much you used to love wrestling with me,  attempting to pin me in place but only to be pushed right back down where I wanted you.  I’ll use that similar patience to wait out and fight you on this stupid war that you have started now,  with all my hate in my body to serve as my motivational asset.  

so you know what.  enjoy your days Min Inhye.  because those days will be up soon.  I won’t mention when but the day could come any time.  all thanks to the intense amount of hate that you have instilled in me,  I’ll break free from this pitiful attempt of imprisonment after humouring you for a good amount of time.  so go on with your life,  play with my children.  look into the eyes of our baby boys,  kiss their cute chubby round cheeks and remember what you did to their father.  and how their father is going to come back to them when the time right. 

did you notice earlier that I used Cyril’s name  ?  it is a testament to my patience,  the slow burn of my revenge that I will be reenacting at my own will and pace.  I’ll use the demon scum’s name.  the only fantasies that get me through these periods of boredom is how I am going to dig my fingers in his fucking wing scars and fucking tear through every single god damn bud he has in his back.  that will before I take a knife to tear the rest of his fucking body to shreds.  there will be nothing left for you to look at because I’ll make sure to burn every single piece of his rotten demon scum ash after watching him scream as I use the purest of my silver collection on his sluiced up body.  I’ll smash his face in against a broken mirror too and make sure to embed all those crushed shards deep in his cheeks before beating his face in till all his fucking white teeth drop out.  

I’ll use this time to patiently plot out my extensive revenge for him and you both in great detail with nobody to disturb me.  once I’m ready,  I’ll break free.  I’d partially be your good boy,  I’ll stay locked inside for a good amount of time.  I’ll just be breaking out on my own terms.  

and it’ll be a fucking piece of cake.  it’s cute that you tried putting me in the highest security level prison.  but you forget the man I used to be,  I still remember all my tactical and combat skills from my time spent alive.  I haven’t been able to utilise them much recently since my only goal was to murder any filthy piece of scum you touch.  it’s called fucking strategic prioritisation.  now after spending time in reflection and exercising self-restraint,  I will come back bigger and better than ever.  getting out of here will be a fucking breeze,  no matter how much money you put into this.  my renewed hate will override it all.  

this is the first and last time you’ll be able to have some kind of physical peace from me.  I’m coming for your dreams,  every single second for the rest of your goddamn freak immortality mortal life.  I will haunt you,  hunt you down no matter what corner of earth you try fleeing to.  pool all your fucking billionaire resources and finances to try to keep me out.  but then watch and remember how I burn through it all,  based purely on my hatred alone.  I am the force that you can never seem to get rid of,  we are as natural as orbits and gravity.  you can keep trying to propel away from me but I’ll always bring you back in my realm.  

you can never get rid of me,  this is set for life.  now you will face a new type of presence from me,  one that is more calculating in his approach to bid his time for the sweetest revenge.  as I reflected and reflected over what you have done to me,  I have no doubts about my path anymore.  I was destined to be with you no matter what the circumstances.  and that I will prove to you shortly.  

nothing can save you from me now.

Ahn Jaewoo

[keychangc]

@milehighmechanic

[text] so tony...? [text] weird question: [text] should i consider myself lucky that steve rogers didnt just punt me through the door of my own bar?

[heartofagiant]

Of course I loved her.

I have always loved Alex. Of course I have. It was Alex who said hi to me first. I was new and Alex was always so bold. So it was her first, but we were us maybe from the first moment. certainly by the time we sat next to each other at lunch that day and then every day after.

It was me who gave Alex chicken pox and I know that doesn’t sound like love but when you love people you share things. We shared that. The long days isolated from everyone else. It suited us,  our own little itchy world in my parents basement surrounded by stacks of magazines and the classic movies that were the only entertainment my parents stooped to keep on hand for their solitary child.  Alex told me once she thought I resorted to writing out of sheer boredom.

It was me who shared that too. Maybe not much better than chickenpox. Alex read my first halting attempts at fairytales and my angst-ridden teen poetry. Then, later, my first novel and she still always gets the first finished draft of whatever I’m working on. She always has something droll to say about it, but she reads it all. Every time.

It was Alex who first bloodied a man’s nose for me. It’s happened so often they all blur together. Men are terrible and Alex is Alex. I do remember that first time he was just a high school bully who backed down. There were times they weren’t. We’ve shared enough ice packs and bruised egos, been in enough fights for and with each other to know where to be gentle.

So when it was Alex who told me she was in love with me and then kissed me in my car outside her house, like she couldn’t keep it back anymore, like a gasp for air in oncoming tides... I kissed her back, took her face in my hands and disengaged gently. Told her how much I loved her. That there was a boy, Sean, in senior year with us I was going to prom with. I don’t know if it was gentle enough. She still winced and things were strained for a while. But when prom did finally come around I ditched Sean long enough to find Alex with a flask out on the bleachers by the football field. We drank and made each other laugh. So, as it turns out, we shared that too.

And graduation. And college and two whirlwind nights in Italy when Alex flew out to surprise me the year I studied abroad. And then finally the same city again where we could see each other every day. Which we did. For a while.

She got married. And it was me, because it’s me and we’re us, who drove her to that first date. It happened a lot that way in those days. Alex and I stealing time together between her shifts and my writing and all our separate social events and travel and all the life that we didn’t share anymore by grabbing the fifteen minutes between things...plus the length of the car ride. Just snippets here and there. Not enough, but something. Something.

I liked her when I finally met her, weeks later when it was clear she’d be around for a while. I liked her. She was funny and warm and thoughtful. Impossible to hate. Later...I’d try. But for now we became fast friends and the occasional twinge at sharing mine and Alex’s world with someone else passed quickly and nearly went away.

I didn’t understand until I was standing in front of Alex in a dressing room the day of her wedding that something came loose inside me I’d never be able to name. Or take back. That had maybe always been coming. Or grown over time. Or that I just didn’t recognize as always being true like the supreme idiot I sometimes I am. It doesn’t matter. What matters is this: Somewhere between high school and her wedding day I’d fallen in love with my best friend. Too late. A day, and a lifetime shared, too late.

I thought it would fade, go back to where ever it had been lurking inside me all these years. But it didn’t. I went away then. Hid at home. Behind my work. Avoided Alex and everyone else in the world. What else do you do when a friend who had been in love with you gets married and you figure out you’re in love with her too? When she’s married. And her wife is funny and warm and thoughtful...and a friend of yours now too.

It was her...who came and found me. Knocking on my door with two cups of coffee and that gentle smile. Impossible to hate. She came to tell me she knew I was busy, but that she missed me. She never mentioned Alex. But it hung there between us I think. I never asked. Not once. And she never said. But I think maybe she knew.

And life carried on. The years passed. I dated here and there. The two of you were happy. To the end, you were happy. And I was there. I know that doesn’t sound much like love but Alex, you have to know by now...you share things with people you love. She shared you. 

Of course I loved her.

[asurayuuhaven]

Remnant of Family

The room is dark. The ravenette intentionally leave it be for the whole day. All the time. Only one small desk lamp, and there was photos, all scattered. Beside is a box stuffed with collections of items that was once belong to his friends. To be exact, his former squad member.

That was still there until they’re slaughtered by the vampires. 

The only survivor other than him is a vampire too. Everyone else bite the dust.

Even then, all he do is weeping over them. It hit him harder than his childhood scene done by Ferid, since now, he finally able to trust and love someone again after such a long time of being alone, only to lose them again.

The only one that come to cheer him is his one and only remaining of family. Yet, the loss can’t be replaced. All of them is irreplaceable to him.

As he lament, the blonde vampire finally returned back. 

@yuichiroswife

[keychangc]

“i fucked up, why do you not care?”

“It’s not–”

Marcus bites his tongue before defensiveness can creep further into the tone of his voice, permeating it completely. It’s hard not to be reactive to that sentiment: to the idea that he doesn’t care. But getting worked up about it isn’t helpful or healthy, and it’s worth the effort it takes to reign it in.

“It’s not that I don’t care, Julie,” he begins, his voice a fair bit lighter than his first attempt as he slides closer to her on the sofa, hesitantly–slowly–raising an arm to lay it across her shoulders. “I care. So, so much.”

He sighs softly, turning his face away from hers and staring intently at a hole in his jeans near the knee. Marcus has always cared about Julie; always felt some sort of magnetism toward her, even as she pushed him away. Even as it had broken his heart to learn what she’d gotten herself tangled up in, all he’d wanted was for her to stay safe and find happiness.

“But that’s– That’s why it might not look like I care, I guess.” His free hand presses hard into the back of his neck, his fingertips threading in and out of the hair at his nape. “You made an honest mistake. One I’d made. So I can’t be mad at you. And I don’t want to be.”

At that, he smiles. And maybe it’s exhausted, and a little fragile. Maybe it’s not as bright as she’s used to, but it’s every bit as genuine when he turns back to face her.

“I’m just glad you’re back. I’m glad you’re here.”

[keychangc]

@milehighmechanic​

"Sabra gives you all your daily nutrients,” Marcus says as he pulls the small, plastic container out of his shopping bag. He turns it so the label faces out, toward Tony. “Plus zero grams of trans fats and Oh-My God cholesterol.”

[keychangc]

@notmyfuture​

He’s the last one at the Lizard. They closed half an hour ago, and he’s been taking his time cleaning up, having given the rest of the staff the go-ahead to leave. Marcus has been doing this a lot lately. There’s something about the way the sound system echoes over empty booths and barstools that gives him and odd sense of peace.

The music of Dean Martin accompanies him as he works, the crooner’s voice filling the room with a smoky, velvety depth that Marcus compliments with his own clearer, brighter tone.

When he hears the door open, he doesn’t think twice about it. Doesn’t turn around until he’s finished the chorus of the ongoing song, and even then, it’s meant to be a brief dismissal; an intermission in his one-man show.

“Sorry, buddy. We’re closed,” he says, setting down his bucket of sanitizer water and wet rag. He approaches the stranger, squinting a bit to better see the man’s shadowed features as he wipes his hands on his waist apron. “You missed last call by about an hour.”

[keychangc]

@milehighmechanic​

Marcus can’t deny that he still feels... stiff and out of place here with Tony. The relationship between them is tenuous and fresh, almost entirely dependent on their mutual concern for Julie. But that is enough to take the worst of the edge off; it’s enough for Marcus to feel compelled to reach out and try to comfort the older man in their downtime.

Anyone who cares so deeply about his friend... That’s someone Marcus wants to make happy.

“These,” he announces, setting a to-go box of pretzels; half sweet, half savory--in front of Tony, “are probably Julie’s favorites. Dad always makes ‘em for her. Figured... you might like them too.”