#mcwriting

[creeper-noises]

The Fox in the Tunnels

The Fox knows his mind is failing him; that his humanity has all but left. He is held together with sinew and ligaments that, one by one, seem to snap and leave him crawling. There is a familiarity in the Rabbit's eyes and he knows, somehow, they were friends once. He knows this and it tears his head from his shoulders.

The Fox sees things. The Fox hears things. The Fox feels things. His hands are calloused and bleeding. He holds a sword in one hand and a pick in the other. The tunnels before and behind him are endless. The Tunnels are endless. And the Walls are closing in.

The Fox sees Them. They are angry. They are crying. They want the Rabbit.

The Fox nearly catches the Rabbit. The familiarity, he sees it again, but it is replaced by dreaded betrayal. The Fox swings his sword slowly. The Rabbit runs.

[saturnpeachxo]

Apollo

He met me at my lowest. A shattered heart, across the sky. I didn’t know if true love existed, until I saw his glow. His brown eyes held my gaze for four years. They’re still holding.

He took me into a paradise where the sun was always a gold medal in the sky. He wrapped his arms around me, my heart sang orange.

I wanted to listen to his songs, run my fingers through his golden locks, and burn in the fiery melodies. He consumes me with a heat I can’t escape from. His flames have become my addiction, I can’t stop, won’t stop this first love. - M.C.

[floridazcrazy]

Rutger mcgoarty: Burning your tongue on hot food / The smell of fresh ice after a flood /Adrenaline leaving your body after a long game/ The sound of cracking new glowsticks / Love of one's self, family and friends / Cold air burning your lungs during bag skates / Touch as a form of affection

Is this ass be honest im trying writing for the 1st time lmao. In case you couldnt tell im basing this off of old hogwarts houses as aesthetics posts LMAO

[saturnpeachxo]

Story Teller

She was sitting underneath a crab apple tree, flipping through the pages of a romance novel. Miranda felt so pressured, so tired, so bored of how books are being written. Nothing seemed right about the book in her hands. Nothing seemed wrong, either. She just wasn’t happy. At the park, there was a girl with a dusty rose hat and freckles. It was only when the world stopped, as she accidentally locked eyes with her. Miranda wondered: what is her story? Who is she? Where did she come from? Miranda quickly looked away. Every stranger holds a story. She just wanted to know how to write it all down. - M.C.