#dbda snippet

[idliketobeatree]

local girl rediscovers an old wip and the joy of putting charles through the torment nexus of his own creation, more in five (months)

[idliketobeatree]

(gif by mellxncollie)

@wordsinhaled was wondering if "edwin thought he was gonna get kissed here. the way he like. almost draws himself up a little like he's not ready omg. or what he thought charles was gonna say"

and. in another universe.

—

Edwin sees Charles' eyes flutter close as he moves in. His confession hangs in the air, heavy and flaming like the wisps of Hell lapping at their heels and everything comes to a halt when he creaks out, "wait!"

Charles stills. The air around them, too.

"Oh— shit, I mean— sorry!"

And Edwin is in a desperate need for another breath but his lungs are too full, pleurae stretched to their capacities. He shakes his head quickly, almost throwing them off-balance, down the staircase, to where the demon spider-doll's mantles are steadily dripping with Edwin's real blood, to certain fucking doom. And then he thinks, hysterically, I wasn't ready. I don't look nice. My mouth tastes like blood. I've been crying—

"No, you misunderstand, I want this— I want you. I am merely—"

What a terrible time, for Charles to not understand what he's trying to say at all.

[idliketobeatree]

it's eleven pm, the alarm clock on your bedside table clicks out, red to shadows.

you go to sleep, and you don't dream of him— only because the hours spent running around, fighting weirdly shaped bushes with sticks and tackling him into the green grass, his voice like gossamer and heated asphalt, it all pales in comparison to what your mind conjures up when, after tossing and turning for ages, you finally manage to fall asleep.

he's the first thing you think of upon waking, though— bleary-eyed, before he even makes sense, insistent like birdsong at sunrise. the upcoming day keeps a promise you'll see him again. it's never broken it before. he's there in the sweet chestnut leaf bookmark that he asked you to press between the box of a RC 49 airplane kit and a thick rugby scrapbook, carefully placed between two sides of newspaper. in the missing, threadbare sweater, the one you grew out of two years ago and stubbornly kept wearing even when it got too short to cover your lower back, because he said he liked the colour once. he's in all the summer plans, when you follow the smell of soft stuffed paratha and scrambled eggs wafting from upstairs.

[idliketobeatree]

wip wunday!

i was tagged by @emryses thank you lovely 🩵 here's a WIP from my next Charles poem, which will be a direct response to both my Edwin poem and also @tumblerislovetumblerislife's poetry fic for the boys which promptly changed my life

it'll be quite long and exciting, i hope!

no pressure tags: @tumblerislovetumblerislife of course 🧡 @nix-nihili @tragedy-machine @aletterinthenameofsanity @c-rowland and anyone who'd like to join 🩵