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@deathentraps
❝ JEREMY —— I don’t think, I should uh, play, this game. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to let the Trojans down but, I just, I can’t. ❞ PANIC SETS AFIRE IN HIS CHEST, HOW HE WAITS FOR A SLAP ACROSS THE FACE, A DEVIOUS SMILE. SOMETHING TO WARN OF A NIGHT OF PAIN, A NIGHT OF TORTURE. HE STUFFS HIS SHAKING HANDS INTO HIS POCKETS. THERE IS A SILENT PRAYER ON HIS LIPS, THAT KEVIN WAS RIGHT, AND THAT JEREMY WILL NOT HURT HIM. @crueltyfought
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reinerenard:
things since T H E K I N G ‘ S death had both their good and their bad. although he’d never admit it, a part of him did love riko– he gave him purpose. yet, that could just be the years of torment echoing in his mind. still, another victim of the moriyama’s abuse had been his old teammate. kevin had wanted nothing more than to reconnect, build something from the ground up as now, he looked only to the future. “salut.” he said with the remnants of a smile on his lips as he pulled out a chair to join the other at the almost empty coffee house. “i wasn’t sure if you’d show up.” | @deathentraps
OH HOW THE MIGHTY HAD FALLEN ! THE KING WAS GONE —— PRAISE THE LORD THE QUEEN HAS RISEN ! but yet the king is never really gone, is he ? he creeps in the darkness & the still of the night. YET THE RED & GOLD ARE NOT BLACK, THE WARMTH IS NOT THE COLD. But how surprise coloured his bleak eyed view with the request. the politeness. the dignitary. IT WAS A REQUEST. NOT AN ORDER. how funny it was, to come from order & violence, blood & pain. But his fingers curl around a black coffee, THEY ARE NOT BROKEN, THEY ARE NOT DAMAGED ( he hasn’t had a non-exy related injury in two hundred and fifteen days ) BUT HE COULD NOT HELP HIMSELF, HE HAD TO SEE IT, HE HAD TO SEE THAT THE QUEEN HAD RISEN — to prove that maybe one day he too could become more than a fractured mess. ❝ ca va? ——what can I say, I needed to make sure Riko hadn’t won. ❞
come back u coward
who’s the coward now? HE’LL BE BACK ! JUST NOT IN BLACK.
@casualtygain // JEAN KNOWS DEATHS DISTANT LANDS, OF BONE & WILTED FLOWERS. IT TASTES LIKE HOME & FEELS LIKE FINGERS AROUND HIS THROAT. BUT IT IS ALWAYS TOO FAR OUT OF REACH, TANTALIZING HIM ( AND AS OF LATE IT IS A 5″3 DEMON WHO KEEPS IT AT BAY REGARDLESS OF JEAN’S WISHES, APPROACHING HIM WITHOUT CONCERN IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT ) “what? I’m trying to sleep”
*& A POETIC ONE LINER STARTER CALL FOR THE FRENCH BAGUETTE THAT IS JEAN MOREAU ???
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cigburnt:
a faint smile paints his lips ever so slightly, feeling jean’s arms around him, demanding him back sends his head spinning along with the room itself. ‘ i thought we agreed that you should be SLEEPING. ‘ a small hint of a previous agreement is present in jeremy’s raised left eyebrow as well as a hidden NEED to TOUCH and FEEL is present in the way jeremy’s hand finds it’s way towards jean’s arm, tracing the soft skin.
HE GRINS LIKE THE SUN, MELTING ANY ICE THAT COULD LINGER OVER JEANS HEART & HE FINDS HE CAN’T HATE HIM FOR SUCH ANGELIC TENDENCIES. HE DRAGS HIM BACK, TUCKS HIM AGAINST HIS CHEST “Can’t sleep if you’re out of bed idiot” CANT, WONT, EXPRESSION IS A FICKLE THING THAT JEAN PLAYS WITH, TOYING HIS WORDS INTO POEMS THAT KEEP HIS HEART LOCKED AWAY.
@cigburnt // “ Jeremy? Où vas-tu? ” GREY EYES PEAK OPEN, GLARING IN THE MORNING LIGHT; FINGERS TIGHTENING AROUND HIS FRIENDS WAIST.
riko (5′5″) moriyama and jean (i am ready for the sweet embrace of Death™) moreau
the foxes (boys)
the foxes (girls)
the trojans
