#eternityafraid

[p4rklifes]

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥. "i want you. you scare me, a bit."

want, at least, is old. it knows the vague shape of the thing. rill thinks that a lot of wanting is ugly work. not nearly as shiny and clean as the newer ways creatures collide with each other. makes you slow and selfless, in some ways. i want to do this for you, i want to kiss you, i want to make sure you got home safe, all offers on slick cobbles not worth slipping over. it bares its teeth in dull thought, sinking low enough in the dregs that the brownwater laps along its lashes. with the cut at eye level, love looks surrounding; above and below too, reflection-wet, rippling. its clawed hands tremor softly.

"bit scary," it confirms eventually, mouth above the water and chin still submerged. droplets scatter against rill's breath, hanging softly in the cold air. "don't mind that." rill doesn't know if it's telling love to ignore the fear or indulging in it privately. a wide eye and a caught breath don't have to be only fear. cold fingers against warm, living skin don't have to be only cruel. "want to touch you. if you want. if you..." rill pauses, eyes vacant as it searches inside. "say yes." @eternityafraid.

[erasurae]

@eternityafraid 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰: "stay here for a while."

"fuck else am i off to?" callum snorts, face pressed so tightly into theo's pillow he feels the creases in the fabric inside his skin. there's an ugly honesty about him at this time in the morning, industrial and always vaguely smoking, grime and grit and something like cracked pavement. callum snarls against the daylight, dares it to move him, dares it to coax theo from where they're sprawled. "chill out. stop fucking squirming." his hands find theo after a few unsuccessful pats, drag him bodily back into the spot callum's claiming. "y'warm."

[erasurae]

@eternityafraid 𝘫𝘢𝘺𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘢: [ standing over a body ] " oops. "

"there's something fucking wrong with you," he hisses in the half-dark, one shoulder against lucas' shaking hand. he makes a better door, jayce can say that for free, and there's no way he'd actually be held back if he wanted to make a go at her - it's just no use in hitting a girl, especially not one with as loud a mouth as tara. "what the fuck is wrong with her?" he snaps, at lucas this time, eyes ablaze and wet. "fuck this! fuck all of this!"

[erasurae]

@eternityafraid 𝘫𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦: i'll be your fantasy.

he's in two minds (two heads, really, oioi) about it - jamie knows it registers as hot, as take-her-home-feel-her-up-in-the-uber fit, as the kind of thing that has lads around him describing her as a little rocket, a right sort, lush and steady, but it's so... he grins, all teeth, sharp incisors. the wolf and little red. "why'd'you talk like that?" he asks her, refusing to let go, in fact digging in all the more. jamie needs to show her that he doesn't want her to leave, in fact wants her closer, closer still, tucked under his chin or beneath his chest or close enough to lean up and catch the chain of his necklace between her teeth. "just say you want a shag, babe. in your little accent and all, like."

[hatigave]

it  is  the  heat  that  leaves  dennis  cranky  and  frayed  at  all  the  wrong  places.  he's  a  while  removed  from  the  events  that  changed  the  trajectory  of  his  life,  and  yet  he's  as  close  as  he's  ever  been  when  scarred  skin  pulls  tight  and  feels  wrong  all  over  again.  fingers  tap  nervously  against  the  plastic  of  the  to-go  cup,  too  deep  now  into  the  ice  coffee  caffeine  rush  to  simply  give  up  on  the  jitters.  still,  teeth  bite  down  into  the  paper  straw  before  looking  over  at  bri.  ❝  i've  barely  slept  these  past  days  .  .  .  this  morning  i  thought  my  toaster  was  talking  to  me.  ❞

 𖹭 ⎯ @eternityafraid / bri & dennis

[p4rklifes]

𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐲 & 𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭-𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭. i hope you've had a decent time. this one for tacket-tatt from alvy. i'm imagining this is post-alvy's entire storyline so he's developed the final girl behavior of mouthing off at his kidnappers

"decent time!" tatt bursts like a drainpipe, all mud-water and plastic lids, the screeching howl of its laughter wet on the oldwood floors. for a second, it's nowhere, speaking through the dry rot and creaking hinges on every door. "wicked time! tacket came and tacket took. this one's lippy. he is." insistent even against no argument, the creature pulls its threads back together, the air cracking and moistureless as it bounces back into shape. "brave little thing with a name to have. tacket has your sharp ends and your bite-spray. can't hurt to gis' a name." @eternityafraid.

[p4rklifes]

& 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐫. "don't frighten them, you nasty boy." THIS THE NARCISSUS PERSON AND BASKER I PROMISE I AM NAMINF THEM

basker leans heavy along the entryway, tongue carving a slick line over the point of an aptly-named canine. he's been snapped at only twice today, and it's getting on half nine. not his best work, but he plans on getting worse by lunchtime. "can't a lad have any fun?" he asks, dragging his eyes from one place to the next without really lowering his lip. "this one smells expensive. just want to have a taste." @eternityafraid.

[p4rklifes]

𝐣𝐨𝐬𝐬 & 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐥. "i'm going to be fucking massive."

usually, lintel pays the door no mind. he'd been jumpier when his old skin fit better, always craning and looking when noise wriggled through the walls. made him a nightmare of a roommate. nobody could get in or out without him knowing. now he cares less about staying or going. usually a little animal looking for shelter from the rain or an animal-thing looking for shelter from also the fucking rain. his wards hum against his palms as the threshhold is broken, then repaired. this old place looks after itself half the time. makes him feel a bit like a knobhead-shaped bauble.

whatever's passing through can talk. human words, maybe, or something similair enough that lintel hears what he wants to. the thing about this city is that while it has ancient roots deeper than dryrot, there are still one thousand ways to leave again. lintel has given up guessing who is planning to linger. he doesn't call out simply because he hasn't been spoken to; if something is coming to see him, it knows he's here. if not, no need to alert the dear.

broken glass creaks and crunches underfoot. even bent over his scrawlings, lintel winces in sympathy. shoes are lost on these bloody things, no matter how often he mentions them helpfully and vaguely. they'll bleed all over the damp floor and no doubt whinge at him for it later. he cocks his head, listening for a curse or a stumble, and doesn't find one waiting. curious.

he doesn't yet chance his voice. lintel doesn't remember much about his mother but he does know she'd clip him 'round the ear for ignorance were she here. battleaxe of a woman. he stands, hissing softly at the rust in his knees. flakes of paint flutter to his feet, greying in some places and green with moss in others. he knows where the boards groan under pressure and avoids the weak points like second nature, aiming to stick his head out of the door and prepared to hear an insult about the size of his ears or the state of the place. the half-dark makes him squint, the dust more so, until he can make out a shape.

two shapes.

one of the shapes is moving. muttering. shaking.

the other one is not.

lintel feels himself sigh before he hears it. "y'alright over there, mate?" he calls, cupping one hand beneath his mouth to carry his voice and immediately feeling like a bit of a pillock for it. "how massive are we talking? if this is, you know, something a bit seedy, i'd rather..." he trails off, eyes sweeping the bundle on the floor again. fuckssake. "you know what, mate? how about i help you move that, yeah? no harm. then you can go. 'cause, you know, you're really not supposed to be in here. structural... no integrity to it. beams and everything." @eternityafraid.