#daoul

[pontiandiaspora]

“The touloumtsis, zournatsis, and daoultsis” by Christos Demarchou, Pontian artist from Giresun.

Music has always been a big part of Pontian life. The only thing missing is the kemenche!

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Daoul in a nutshell

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Ass Back Home -- Gym Class Heroes

[Neon Hitch - Chorus] I don’t know, where you’re going Or when you’re coming home I left the keys under the mat to our front door For one more chance to hold you close I don’t know, where you’re going Just get your ass back home

[Travie McCoy] We both knew this type of life didn’t come with instructions So I’m trying to do my best to make something out of nothing And sometimes it gets downright shitty in fact When you call and I don’t even know what city I’m at Or what day of the week in the middle of the month In a year I don’t recall It’s like my life’s on repeat and the last time we spoke I told you I wouldn’t be long, That was last November, now December’s almost gone I’d apologize but I don’t realize what I’m doing wrong

[Chorus] I don’t know, where you’re going Or when you’re coming home I left the keys under the mat to our front door For one more chance to hold you close I don’t know, where you’re going Just get your ass back home

[Travie McCoy] And you’ve been nothing but amazing And I never take that for granted Half of these birds would have flew the coop But you, you truly understand it And the fact you stood beside me, Every time you heard some bogusness You deserve a standing o ‘cause they’d a just been over it Let 'em talk, let 'em talk, let 'em talk, let 'em talk Like we don’t hear what they saying Let 'em walk, let 'em walk, let 'em walk, let 'em walk We’ll just drive by and keep waving Cause you and I above all that Just let them wallow in it Now they all choked up, yuck Cause they be swallowing it

[Chorus] I don’t know, where you’re going Or when you’re coming home I left the keys under the mat to our front door For one more chance to hold you close I don’t know, where you’re going Just get your ass back home

No one hold me down like you do sweetheart You keep doing that, I keep doing this We’ll be alright in the end Trust that We put the us in trust, baby Aww, let’s go

I don’t care what you’re after As long as I’m the one, no I don’t care why you’re leaving You’ll miss me when you’re gone

[Chorus] I don’t know, where you’re going Or when you’re coming home I left the keys under the mat to our front door For one more chance to hold you close I don’t know, where you’re going Just get your ass back home.

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My muse walks in on your muse undressing and catches the various scars along their body.

((I'm taking this a bit differently, Dean scarred from the beginning? this shall be an AUish thing mb? idk, fem Dean

She always kept his touches above the shirt, the lights off when they made love. He wasn't stupid. The sensitive fingertips drew the marks like a map in his head, imaging the scars that marked the smooth skin. But she didn't want him to see, she didn't want him to know. So he kissed them like any other part of her body, letting his grip fumble pass it like nothing was there. He thought it was understanding her.

Raoul wanted to surprise her. In his hand were two glasses, a bottle of wine in the other. The sound of the shower running wouldn't give him out. Smiling softly, he slowly opened the door and let himself in. Before the name left his lips, his eyes spotted her and held his tongue. She wasn't in the tub but standing in front of the mirror, topless, a sad blank gaze running over the memories the years left on her. Gun shots wounds, stitch marks, cuts, burns and bruises. Scars painted onto her anatomy in various brush strokes. She let out a heavy sigh before her head lifted and met his reflection. Jumping up startled with a shriek, she soon noticed where the other's eyes were on and quickly reached out for the bathrobe.

''I'm not going to start this talk. I don't need your pity, get out-''

What formerly occupied his grasp was no longer there. The glasses fell onto the rug, voicing a muffled thud instead of a shattering clash. Getting a hold of her wrist, he stopped her from grabbing the covers and pulled her into his arms, hugging her firmly from the back. He didn't start 'the talk' nor apologize. He didn't say anything at all. He lifted a finger and traced the familiar marks againㅡengraving them into his eyes, his mind, his heart. He was to remember how they were painfully coloured into her flesh. His lips would press more thoroughly over themㅡas if he were purifying the imprints, making the marks the others had made his own.

He leaned into her, resting his forehead on the lightly paved curve of her spine. 

''...Does it still hurt?'' He asked in a barely audible whisper but the tiles kindly echoed it to her ear.

''No.'' Dean replied brief and blunt with the answer she had always been prepared with. She wasn't lyingㅡthe physical torture, the agony was no longer there with her. It moved on, to him. It hurt him.

''....Did you kill them all.''

''Almost.''

Trailing down her back and to her sides, the fingers smoothed over a long twisted stab wound that took a seat along her waist. It was more severe than he pictured it in the dark.

''Did 'they' die.''

''Yes.''

''In pain?''

''Yes.''

''More than 'this'?''

''.....Yes.''

''Good.''

A shudder ran down her skin as she saw the bitter smile form on the mirror.

''Good.'' He repeated, over and over as the warm touches repeated themselves as well.

((..idk what this became

((SLENDERAOUL OMNOMNOMNOM

((-crying into the sun-))

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This is gonna hurt, this is gonna hurt like hell

This is gonna damn near kill me, sometimes the truth ain't easy

I know that you’re scared of telling me something

I don’t wanna hear, but baby believe that

I’m not leaving, you couldn’t give me one good reason

[Chorus:]

Love don’t run, love don’t hide

It won't turn away or back down from a fight

Baby I’m right here and I ain't going anywhere

Love’s too tough it wont give up no not on us

Baby Love don’t run

Let’s lay it on the line, I don’t care if it takes all night cause

This is gonna make us stronger, it’s gonna make forever longer

I know it’d be easier walking away but what we got is real

And I wanna save us, baby we can do it, Baby we’ll get through it 'cause...

[Chorus:]

Love don’t run, love don’t hide

It won't turn away or back down from a fight

Baby I’m right here and I ain't going anywhere

Love’s too tough, it wont give up no not on us

Baby Love don’t run

Baby love don’t run

[Bridge:]

So come over here and lay down in my arms

Baby tell me everything that’s on your heart, 'cause...

[Chorus:]

I won’t run, and I won’t hide

I won’t turn away, I just wanna make things right

Baby I’m right here and I ain't going anywhere

Love’s too tough it won’t give up no not on us

Baby Love don’t run

Baby Love don’t run

Love Don't Run - Steve Holy

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Endverse Daoul

"Give me my gun." The rough voice ordered, and tanned and calloused hand held out expectantly. A grim smile crossed dry, split lips, fingers brushing over the cool metal, blue eyes flicking up to meet once-bright green eyes. The tip of a tongue poked out, moistening the cracked flesh.

"And what will -I- get if I do?" The words were nearly purred out, muscles extending as he reclined, watching for the fearless leader's next move.

"My boot not up your ass. Gimme the damn gun." he snarled, lunging for the weapon, only to have it snatched lightning-fast from where it had been before, a cunning and malicious light shining in the blue eyes.

"Not enough of an incentive, mon voleur. Your boot is never up my ass. Try the other body part." A click-chink sounded as he pulled the slide back, a bullet loading in the chamber. The black metal didn't shine, but it was unmistakable as it rose to rest between the former hunter's eyes. "Now I have the upper hand."

Speed. The moves were so well-practiced, it was almost art the way that the fearless leader disarmed the ex-thief. The gun switched hands in a matter of seconds, now aimed at the other. 

"Don't raise a gun unless you're willing to pull the trigger." His tone was cynical, too light for the fact that he had a gun to his head. Are you finally tired of me, Dean?"

Green eyes rolled, the gun sheathed again, the tension dispersing as easily as it had come. He leaned over the man reclining in the bed, their lips meeting roughly in what could be called a kiss if it held any form of affection at all. But there was nothing soft about the action, or the two men performing it.

"Hurry up and get your ass out of bed, or I will shoot you." Dean muttered, running his hand through his unwashed hair, straightening. "We leave at ten sharp."

Raoul rolled his eyes, reaching over to grab the bottle of alcohol from the box that served as a nightstand. He brought it to his lips, washing down the stale taste in his mouth with the whiskey. "I'll be there."

". . . Lay off the cigarettes. They're stinking up the cabin." And with that, the hunter was gone.

"I'll remember that." Raoul muttered, lighting yet another cigarette, taking a small drag before lips parted to release the rising smoke. "Or not."