HEALTH HIATUS— o' storm, sing me to sleep.

❝ It's strange… I don't feel even the least bit cold. Paul… did you feel this warmth in the end as well? ❞

Unquenchable thirst, hands up my shirt

LUVCCUBUS. ind. priv. sel. fandomless oc. multiship. oc friendly. 21+ written by oz they/them 29.

MAGNUSALTERUM. ind. priv. sel. lovecraft from bungo stray dogs. multiship. oc && crossover friendly. 21+. written by oz they/them 29.

muse is highly based on original lore.

carrd.

REBLOG or LIKE this post if you'd be interested in interacting with a literate multi-para roleplay/ask blog for Executive mafioso Chuuya Nakahara of Bungo Stray Dogs, 2nd-in-command of the organized crime syndicate "the Port Mafia" and human vessel for a god of destruction Arahabaki, with over 30 verses and crossovers and always adding more. Rules are listed on my pinned post.

Sometimes, he forgets that Paul never truly means to upset him. Even if it's a lie. One to maybe stop his worry. Even if that of all things urks him to no end. It's never meant with malice from Paul.

He's chastising himself internally for not keeping it together over a lie that wasn't meant to hurt. But yet another part hisses regardless of intent, a lie was a lie. And that made his skin crawl with irritation. But, shame easily overthrows it as he watches how Paul avoids looking at him the best he can.

...Great. He messed up.

Taking a moment to slowly inhale before exhaling quietly. Even if a part of him disagrees, his heart leads him to apologize. " ...I'm sorry for being harsh earlier. It wasn't warranted for something like that. You don't have to forgive me, but, I did wish to apologize. It's only right to own up to my mistake. "

"You didn't make me like this," his voice drops some, eyes narrowing at nothing. "I shouldn't have been made at all."

Rimbaud probably just wanted a normal day. And Verlaine would never be able to give him that ; he knows that he can't. He was missing everything that made someone normal. He wasn't even a someone ; he was a something.

A mistake.

The walk feels too silent yet too loud, his head feels like it's aching from tension alone. But, it's hardly a long walk even if it feels like it is. His fingers wrap around the door handle, letting Paul into the restaurant first. Hand gently taking his out of pure habit as he guides them to the host stand.

Small talk was.. annoying, but he still forced himself to be polite as he asks if they could be seated in a more private corner. Only for the hostess to nod eagerly as she guides them to their seat.

Another small crack ; another reminder that he didn't belong ; another piece of evidence that just solidified his earlier thoughts: he'd NEVER be human.