#nchntrss

 limbs  tangle  in  a  frenzied  rush,  flushed  skin  pressed  to  flushed  skin  and  breath  mingling  with  breath  in  muffled  MOANS  barely  contained  behind  kiss - swollen  lips  that  grasp  and  suck  and  pull  at  exposed  flesh  whenever  the  chance  arises,  as  if  to  capture  by  any  means  necessary  any  part  of  the  being  opposite  him  in  the  dark,  the  goddess  whose  attention  he  can  only  PRAY  to  hold  for  any  length  of  time.   DARK ENERGY  dances  along  his  tongue,  her  touch  like  an  incantation,  her  very  presence  spellbinding,  and  the  flash  of  heat,  of  pain,  as  unforgiving  nails  rake  against  his  scalp  and  draw  his  head  back  harshly  by  the  hair,  is  as  welcome  as  rest  to  a  tormented  soul,  a  final  damning  contract  that  leaves  bruises  along  his  throat  and  weakens  his  will  and  steals  away  any  sense  of  self,  any  semblance  of  thought,  that  is  not  connected  to  HER.   only  her.

for @nchntrss

Clovers, pink daisies, little white sprays that look like baby’s breath but aren’t because she found them on the sidewalk. Glitter, too, hot pink and holographic-- and a tuft of fur from both hyenas-- and a sky blue Crayola crayon-- and the whole thing’s wrapped together with two Hello Kitty band-aids. It’s a fistful of good intentions.

“-- So-- I brought you these.” Good intentions are presented to the witch. “An’ I mean, I don’t, um, I don’t know anything about, like, what you do, but? Um, yer heart--” when I slashed open your chest and dug it out with my bare hand-- “-- had a bunch of. Like. Grass an’ stuff on it. Or somethin’. An’ so I figured, y’know, I’d, um, I’d bring you this stuff, for... y’know. So you can tie it on there or whatever. On yer new heart, I mean.”