#theempires

     Mani doesn’t do modern aus but for the modern au of the Edrington family with  @the-empires   she makes an exception   //   [  1 / ?  ] 

          You have a duty  !  But  what good is duty to a heart which no longer beats to the rhythm of the drums or war  /  what good is duty to a heart which no longer bleeds the blood rushing to the veins of a country ?  It beats for you  /  it bleeds for you  &  only for you. 

hi hello did someone say hornblower

*bangs fists on table* HISTORICAL MULTI

    II.    Flowers press against your ribcage as your eyes find her features before even the sun has the audacity to gaze upon her; you know you should not have allowed yourself to linger, but the darkness has spread through her room before you had found the strength to leave her side  /  stepping in tune with the shadows you found your way to her bed, and now that you can feel the gentle pressure of her hand on top of your chest you find that you cannot be brave enough to slip away before she notices. 

      III.    For a second you can imagine a life with her  /  peak between the veil of all things impossible only to find nought but her laughter echoing back to you. You remember her when the world stops turning, what do you fear most, the ringing of a gunshot or the hollowness left when she walks away from you? Doesn’t it scare you that you cannot figure out the answer to that question? 

      IV.    There are too many things left unsaid between the two of you, littering the floor on which you stand when you force your lips to curl up into a smile to congratulate the father of the woman you would have loved to have called yours on the wedding of his only daughter. How will you ever walk again now that every step you take is a step further away from her?

The tiny pieces of the love we swore we had?

I had not known of such a terrible event such as our own, 

and our timing was just right.

I had always left the light on, and the door open.

I thought fondly upon memories of the future that we gave up our last stretch of life to.

I wondered if it was hopes, or real memories we live out. 

A memory that flashes into notes and glittering auras. 

I once sat on Saturn, and so privileged, to sit on the day the Black Holes Disappeared. 

A glorious day, indeed. 

Though, without you, there are no black holes. 

Never knowing that the black holes were once vessels of which we spoke through.

Poking holes through the atmosphere, and reached out to feel around for a feeling we knew wasn't close enough.

Ripped through the stomach of the sky, where we finally met the Greater Obsidian Moon, and transcended into ages where we seared through trees, and dug through the branch.

I went from a hot, hot Southern, ghostly sun to a Western wringing, writhing sun. Through, venture North, and you'll see a dancing sun.

Anything left in between is stolen, and left to the Greats.

The Greats, pretending to be captains, and finding themselves to be thieves. 

My night was like any other night, quiet, moving fast.

Like a rabbit's heart beat.

Fear, endurance, strategic.

I knew somewhere on the Golden, silvery ends of the moon, I'd find what was left of the song the siren wrote.

She's dead now, and all those long before her.

I have not, but the hands of the sage, and the opposition of the Hermit.

Yet, I still stand here, waiting for more fire.