#mariawrites

(A/N: This is my first time writing in english. This is a way to let my feeling pour out and channel it into something somewhat beautiful. Feel free to tell me what you think. Please, do not share without permission.)

Security.

Noun

1.      the state of being free from danger or threat.

Sense of home. Sometimes that is exactly what we seek. Somewhere safe; away from all the noise and uneasiness that seems to surround us. We want to get away from our demons, from our fears, from our doubts. And yet, we seek for a place to unleash it all. We want to feel secure enough that it won’t come back haunting us. We want to strip down to our most vulnerable versions. The one people find ugly, unfitting, unworthy, and still feel safe.

 Everyone expects something from you. They want you to be  yourself. Your best  version, even if its fake. They don’t care. They only crave the feelings, the warmth, the buzz, the emotion, the joy that only you  seem to provide them. You are a beacon. The source of light they need to get by. Unyielding. Unforgiving. Strong. Enticing. Inviting. Beautiful. Perfect. You are as perfect as they need you to be in their eyes. Yet you still won’t move a finger to meet their expectations.

You keep watching your every step. You don’t want to lose yourself. You cannot let them tame you. You fight to keep your essence. Do your best to see through the cracks and find what are the meanings behind some of your actions, behind your words. You want to be raw. Genuine. Honest. You want people to feel that they can do the same, so you let them in. 

You let them see all that beauty and uniqueness that lays inside. Bit by bit you show your true colors, from the lightest to the darkest hues. It’s a complex range. Those who are adventurous enough to dive deeper into who the woman you are never come back in one piece. It’s a dangerous territory. Words sweet as heaven and a touch as vile as it can be. Addicting.

Sa Kabilang Kwarto.

It all started when people started talking about “Easter.”

All the talk hadn’t concerned Yolki Katsuki at first. Humans liked to talk a lot, and would benefit from learning the more silent way of the Egg. That was, until Yolkio Pliseggsky went missing from the carton.

Otabegg was the first one to notice it. “Where’s Yolki?” he asked Eggtor Nikiforov, the hottest egg in the entire refrigerator, and Yolki’s coach. Some of the other eggs were jealous of their complex bond. “Why in shell’s name do you even need a coach for?! All we ever do is sit around in this carton!” was what Yolkio said.

Eggtor looked around (with as much ease as his neck-less-egg-body would allow) and frowned. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him around lately.”

“We don’t have legs, Eggtor,” said Otaegg. “He couldn’t have just left.”

Eggmil Nekola screamed from the corner of the carton. “HE MUST HAVE BEEN… TAKEN!”

“Calm down, Eggmil,” said Yolki. “We’ll get him back.”

Otabegg, Eggtor, and Yolki huddled in a circle and made plans for how to escape their carton and find Yolkio. They decided that they would leave the next day at dawn.

When they were finally ready to leave (which wasn’t actually at dawn, since they couldn’t see the time of day from inside an egg carton), Yolki was nervous. He very rarely ventured into the outside world, and wasn’t sure where to even begin looking for Yolkio.

But the brave egg trio ventured on, determined to find their friend.

After long hours of rolling their round little bodies around the kitchen, Eggtor found something. “It-it’s paint!”

They followed the trail of paint until they saw a demon-egg sitting upon the countertop.

“GET AWAY,” screamed Yolki. “IT’S DISEASED!”

“It’s me, you egghead!” hissed the black and purple demon-egg. Startled, Yolki looked closer and saw that the demon-egg was actually a painted Yolkio.

“Yolkio! What have they done to you?” he demanded tearfully.

“Eggs don’t have tear ducts,” Otabegg pointed out.

“Shut up, Otabegg,” hissed Eggtor.

“They painted me for something called ‘Easter,’” said Yolkio. “I like it. I finally feel like my true self.”

Eggtor scoffed. “Calm your shit, Egglord.”

Just as Yolkio looked like he was going to give a sarcastic reply, the ground started shaking. They all paused and looked around fearfully. Out of the corner of his eye, Yolki saw a Human approaching with their hand extended.

“RUN!” hollered Eggtor. They all obeyed, rolling out of reach.

The human grabbed Otabegg before he could get away, picked him up and swiftly cracking him on the edge of a pan. Yolkio screamed somewhere in the background, then broke down into sobs.

“In case we don’t make it out of this alive, Yolki, just know that I’ve always loved you.”

” Eggtor mumbled.

“Don’t talk that way, Eggtor,” Yolki replied, his voice cracking. He internally giggled at his own clever pun.

His giggling was cut short by the sound of Eggtor’s scream. A hand was hovering directly over Yolki. He closed his eyes, ready to meet his doom… but before the hand could close around him, Eggtor charged towards him and knocked Yolki out of the way. The hand closed around Eggtor instead.

Yolki started screaming and crying. “EGGTOR, NO!” he shouted.

They locked eyes one last time before Eggtor joined Otabegg in the pan.

Yolki and Yolkio huddled together, sobbing, waiting to meet the same doom that had befallen their loved ones. The Evil Hand reached for Yolki one last time.

I refuse to give the person who killed Eggtor the satisfaction of eating my delicious eggy flesh, declared Yolki.

Using the last of his willpower, with his shell cracked and his resolve crumbled, he rolled out of reach and off the edge of the table. He heard Yolkio’s distant scream of horror, and felt a pang of sorrow for leaving his young friend alone in the world. But nothing mattered anymore, not now that Eggtor was gone.

He closed his eyes, satisfied with his choice. He had accepted his fate. There was even a smile on his face before he hit the ground and his body shattered to pieces.

(also if you have any ideas for Yuuri, give me those too!!)

(A/N: This is my first time writing in english. This is a way to let my feelings pour out and channel it into something somewhat beautiful. Feel free to tell me what you think. Please, do not share without permission.)

Security.

Sense of home. Sometimes that is exactly what we seek. Somewhere safe; away from all the noise and uneasiness that seems to surround us. We want to get away from our demons, from our fears, from our doubts. And yet, we seek a place to unleash it all. We want to feel secure enough that it won’t come back haunting us. We want to strip down to our most vulnerable versions. The one people find ugly, unfitting, unworthy, and still feel safe.

Everyone expects something from you. They want you to be yourself. Your best version, even if it's fake. They don’t care. They only crave the feelings, the warmth, the buzz, the emotion, joy that only you seem to provide them. You are a beacon. The source of light they need to get by. Unyielding. Unforgiving. Strong. Enticing. Inviting. Beautiful. Perfect. You are as perfect as they need you to be in their eyes. Yet you still won’t move a finger to meet their expectations.

You keep watching your every step. You don’t want to lose yourself. You cannot let them tame you. You fight to keep your essence. Do your best to see through the cracks and find what are the meanings behind some of your actions, behind your words. You want to be raw. Genuine. Honest. You want people to feel that they can do the same, so you let them in.

You let them see all that beauty and uniqueness that lies inside. Bit by bit you show your true colors, from the lightest to the darkest hues. It’s a complex range. Those who are adventurous enough to dive deeper into who the woman you are never come back in one piece. It’s a dangerous territory. Words sweet as heaven and a touch as vile as it can be. Addicting.