#chalkia

[crem8d-blog]

                    Ｔhere's a lethality in boredom, and said lethalness was rearing its ugly-ass head on that early Saturday morning. Normally, Axel would've been fine with taking in the solitary dawn, maybe stare at a few singing birds on the patio, cook an egg and then lie to Roxas about whether or not he'd eaten anything so he could guiltlessly eat again when he woke up, but not that morning -- no. He was restless, and entertaining himself was apparently not going to be an option no matter what, so he decided to be a piece of shit.                      "Roxas!" His voice echoed throughout the house, and there was no answer. He wasn't surprised, but he was irrationally irked. How dare Roxas not pay attention to him when he needed him to the most? "Roxas!"                     Axel shoved back his chair and strode toward the stairs. He was on a mission. On the kind of mission that prompted him to ignore the whispering spirits pawing at him as he made a beeline toward the upstairs master suite. Once there, he threw open the door, stepped into the dark cave-like space and then proceeded to reach toward the seemingly disembodied pair of feet poking out from beneath a rumpled mountain of blankets.                      "Good morning, sunshine of my life!" He heaved with all his might, pulling Roxas from beneath his burrowed hidey-hole. "The days has begun, I'm about to cook breakfast and you are as beautiful as ever -- if not more than ever!"                     He dropped Roxas' feet and proceeded to climb onto the mattress, suddenly plopping his ass on the small of Roxas' back and beginning a smooth jazz rendition of Katy Perry's "California Girls" except every 'girl' was replaced with 'boy.' The singing progressively grew louder, on the verge of becoming operatic, as he leaned over and dragged the side of his face along the back of the blond's cowlick coated skull. 

[crem8d-blog]

"Miss you."

[crem8d-blog]

Ｉ＇ｌｌ Ｂｅ Ｗａｉｔｉｎｇ

Frustrated, exhausted, starved in more ways than one — the reasons didn’t really matter at the end of the day, because he was simply point blank angry. Axel fiddled with the taxidermy bat on his desk, trying his best not to obliterate the artfully constructed piece by knocking it over as he scooted it back and forth as if mocking something or more someone. He could’ve embellished his feelings with unnecessary Christmas ornaments, but there was no point in festooning. Not on that morning. 

Gone. Okay, fair enough, but gone where? Roxas hadn’t left a note nor had he made the effort to text him the courteous ‘fuck off’ message one might’ve expected at the sight of empty closets and dresser drawers. It was why he hadn’t filed the Missing Persons report, bothered calling one of Roxas’ fellow beach bums or even taken a step in the direction of his Mercedes. Chasing – God, when weren’t they chasing one another through the tangles of that red string stronger than a deity’s Thread of Fate? There was not escape from the tumultuous intersecting they continued throwing themselves into like intended car crashes, a regular goddamn pile up, and bitterness seeped along the edges of Axel’s gums like collections of blood.

He tugged at the fine hairs along the back of his neck only to ruthlessly backhand the knickknack off the desk and stare straight ahead. Panting, there was whispering skittering up the back of his occipital like spiders, and the specters were restless because he was restless. A floorboard creaked directly outside the office door, but he didn’t bother looking to see who was there. There wouldn’t be anyone, anyway. 

                                Now what? Now what? Now what? 

Oh, nothing, of course. He’d wait. Axel stood up with a harsh shove and disregarded the scattered bones along the floor and the way the high back chair toppled. His fingers reached for his hairline and he shook out the merlot mess before the chair righted itself without the use of physical human means. The lanky male strode toward the opposite side of the room where a silver pan along with hardly sanitized utensils sidelined a tired looking gurney. One look to the left opened a cabinet, a look to the right locked the door and then the final glance downward forced a rigid and dismembered torso to grace his presence as if appearing from air. His refined nose crinkled at the putrid scent.

Wait, wait — he’d wait. Wait for the boy with the flaxen hair and tormenting voices to come skulking home to the endless hallways and curtains that never wanted to close. Waiting was something Axel could do because he had things. Things to pass the time and fill the rib blossoming void that left screams bubbling in his throat, scraping at the back of his teeth. 

                                                     “Roxas.” 

[livr0]

chalkia 

    Strangest thing, really! He hadn't expected anyone well-known enough who'd take a vacation in this part of the south of Italy, much less someone who's starred in a film that his partner had made him sit down and watch with him enough times for him to recognize the young man's face right away.      Well, not really. At first he thought it was his son just coming home from a friend's house -- but his clothing style was radically different, and he looked older, somehow. The silver-haired man decided he really should wear glasses more often.      But there you go -- film star just walked in his little bookstore, and it was hard not to acknowledge that fact.    "Excuse me -- you're Roxas Knight, aren't you?"

[crem8d-blog]

"Hey, Roxas. Interested in playing with me for a bit?"

[crem8d-blog]

"I miss Roxas, but he's nowhere to be found. I'm withering away into a heap of ash. Soon he's gonna be able to shove me into an urn and our relationship will be based around him dusting me off and moving me to and from different mantles."

[p1nkdahlias]

2 Live ones

witchdblanc started following you

chalkia started following you

2 Cute blondes in my cemetery? It must be my lucky day. Maybe I'll just close the gates and keep you here forever~

Kidding, kidding, the name's Marluxia. 

[crem8d-blog]

LINEAGE ♔ -- Kingsten Estate

Though they'd been a part of one another's lives for going on four years, Axel was yet to directly introduce Roxas Knight to the Kingsten extension of his lineage. There wasn't much of a reason for it other than his preoccupation with their life and having no interest in outside influences that could potentially complicate the already impossibly convoluted lifestyle they led. Not to say his family was hypercritical of his sexuality or the idea of him being with a Knight son--that was actually an added bonus in terms of old money making nice with old money--but his family was overbearingly inclusive. Kingsten hadn't been ready to return to the family unit. In fact, he hadn't been ready until one of his aunts called him out of the blue, asking about his life, asking about his love life, and then informed him that 'your father expected you to be around for us,' which was fair enough. Kingsten had kept a promise, and he was staring thirty in the eye. It was time to do right by the people who'd supported him as much as possible during his parents' deaths.

Kingsten fixated his stare on Sleepy Hollow Lake for a moment. That morning he'd taken out his facial piercing and tugged on the typical all black ensemble except the cuts of the clothing were undeniably Ralph Lauren v-neck sweaters and Burberry knits. His usual eccentric layers had been 86'd and replaced with a black mid-length lambskin trench and a cashmere scarf to match the sweater and fitted pants. Along with his Versace sunglasses, his diamond-studded Rolex lazily sat on his wrist and the only thing remotely similar to his usual style were the sharp boots on his feet. In that moment he was the embodiment of the dark prep who'd been raised to live and breathe Ivy League and horseback riding through the countryside. That had been most of his summer vacations, and it was a side of himself he was reluctant to conform to.

Reaching the iron gate, Axel tugged out the sleek black remote holding the signal that opened the driveway up to them, and he white-knuckled the steering wheel as the security guard waved them in. Beyond that stretch of land was his family and an entire legacy he'd pretended didn't exist in his father's will. He was a 'momma's boy,' but he owed it to his family to stop sucking the tit and move on with his life. Easier said than done, and he reminded himself that as they crept through the thick woodlands that concealed the awe-inspiring property ahead. All at once, the grounds appeared and the intricately laid and true to original form landscaping was quickly followed by the Kingsten estate's Gilded Age mansion that breathed out the idea of 'old money.' Immediately, he inhaled hard and pushed up his sunglasses, because all of the multi-hundred thousand dollar vehicles were lined up and put on display, which meant they were already there.