outcast always mourn

Happy birthday to @vrake, my twin in name, mood and soul. I am always so very grateful for your presence in my life, the steadfast loyalty you give to me, and the ability to just exist with you without pressure or stress. I wanted to grab this commission of our babies because you deserve to smile every day, but especially on your birthday. I hope you have a spectacular day and are able to enjoy yourself.

mad? goddamned right i’m mad.

don’t crap around with me.

and when these pictures are developed, i’ll have something in my scrapbook to remember you by.

you can’t buy off pain. not with all the money in the world.

i’m hurt. i feel all busted up inside.

child, answer me.

hungry? there’s a pot of coffee made and eggs in the fridge.

looks like someone did a pretty good job on you.

if you can’t defend yourself, you’re lost.

this is a city of outsiders.

someone’s pulling your leg.

beats me, bud.

i’m an accessory, all right. i’ve been an accessory all my life.

why don’t you sit down and drink your milk and we’ll have a nice, long talk.

you’re playing me for a sap.

i can see you’re all broken up about it.

cream or lemon, my dear?

sooner you go, sooner you’ll be back.

if you weren’t such an old fart, i’d bust you up like a soda cracker.

you wanna live your miserable fucking life, go right ahead.

i feel like something bad is going to happen to me.

look at us. we’re still breathing.

i know the difference between someone who cares about me and someone who doesn’t.

i bet you still think you’re the victim, don’t you?

i missed you. we fit.

you can’t rise above something if it’s eating you up inside.

i fucking love that. i love when you stoop to my level. 

the truth is, sometimes i miss you so much i can hardly stand it.

we could’ve had a good life together. real fucking good life. but you didn’t want it.

i wish i knew how to quit you.

we always do this.

can we just talk for a minute and i’ll fuck off after if you want?

you’ve got a pretty good track record of being insane.

if it was a good morning, i wouldn’t be here.

i’m not hiding. i’m avoiding.

we don’t have to be friends for me to make sure you’re okay.

you’re kind of brutal with other girls.

i’m not gonna lie, i am enjoying your panic right now.

i guess it’s my fault. i always come when you call.

i’m guessing you’re the one who’s always biting your tongue to keep the peace.

you think i don’t know what’s going on when i go weeks without hearing from you?

i want you to tell me why you look so fucking scared.

i’m not, like, turned on by drama.

i have way less complicated booty calls i could make.

i’m tired of being angry at you.

you can’t expect other people to take your relationships seriously if you don’t.

you don’t care about me. you just don’t know how to be alone.

we both want to keep seeing each other. it’s stupid to act like we’re not gonna do it again.

it’s like a sick cycle.

we’re not even nice to each other half the time.

you stay here so much there’s a drool stain on my couch.

you’ve been staring at photos of her for an hour.

do you think i’m broken inside?

you’re only nice if there’s a reason for it.

i’m not a fucking idiot. i know everyone thinks i am, but i’m not.

so hard to watch you self-sabotage. makes it impossible to stay mad at you.

please. get off your high horse. 

you keep making impulsive decisions and making everything worse. 

this is crazy. we’re saying crazy things to each other. we love each other. 

have you not noticed how much i like you?

some day, someone’s gonna get so far stuck under your skin, they’re gonna rot there.

i still love you just as much as i always have.

i’m not ready for this to be the end of my story.

oh, i never murder on the first date.

you have a lot of shit to figure out before you’re dateable. 

look at you. you just need me to make you feel better.

it’s hard to enjoy sex when i’m angry with you.

you’re literally incapable of being alone. 

i didn’t think i could hate you any more than i already did.

do you think i’m embarrassing?

sometimes i don’t know what version of you i’m going to get. 

i’m honestly not someone who gets very excited about things.

you’re not gonna go there and turn some light on. it’s pitch black.

i was in the middle of a self crisis, but you loved me.

i'm trying to remember who i was before i met you.

you can figure out who you are and we don’t have to break up because of it. 

you walk like someone who grew up being free.

i feel like i need to be away from you.

you’re not really here. you’re, like, gone.

do you feel like you have someone looking out for you?

you’re the only person that i don’t want to leave.

if you go, it’ll be so painful for everyone.

i don’t know who i am. i don’t know what i want the rest of my life to look like.

i’m really… not a person.

thank you for being a great first love.

i’m sorry i was a coward. i really hope you can remember me as more than that.

i’m not gonna comfort you right now. i’m not gonna comfort you about the most painful thing i’ve ever experienced.

i can’t force you to want to be with me. right? you’re free. you can do whatever you want.

i’m sorry i’m not, like, upset enough about you.

i’m an avoidant asshole, i don’t know.

you’re, like, fucking broken inside. 

you said you loved me.

what you’re asking of me is not realistic.

you make everyone sad.

you get lukewarm pep talks when i’m unprepared. 

i don’t need anyone to tell me i’m a piece of shit.

how hard is it that you can’t be a dick to me right now?

"Don’t look back."

"I missed you."

"It’s too late."

"Please don’t go."

"You promised me."

"Who did this?"

"I forgive you."

"We were gods."

"Leave me alone."

"They found us."

"Trust me, please."

"I need help."

"Run. Don’t stop."

"It wasn’t me."

"I remember everything."

"Burn it all."

"Tell me why."

"You never called."

"It’s just rain."

"You owe me."

"She’s not breathing."

"Is that blood?"

"You were right."

"It ends now."

"We start over."

"Stay with me."

"Nothing feels real."

"I hate this."

"Do it now."

"They're watching us."

"Make it stop."

"It's not yours."

"I was waiting."

"He’s behind you."

"They’re all gone."

"Time is up."

"Bring them back."

"It’s our turn."

"This is wrong."

"Don’t let go."

"We are cursed."

"No one knows."

"You're not real."

"Don’t say it."

"I saw everything."

"Nothing ever changes."

"Call it off."

"What are you?"

"I found it."

the owls avoid him like the plague - an aggressive shriek and they take off as if their tail feathers had been aflame - rhaegar cannot, and will not, blame the animals for their reaction, the stench of sulfur and ash clings to him like a faithful shadow, the blood of a dragon courses through silver veins. which sane mind would not flee from a winged reaper? ❝ found you. ❞ not quite true, nagini had tracked potters scent to the owlry.

❝ ron and hermione are looking for you. ❞ but slytherin's heir makes no effort to guide the wizard down the stairs and out the door, he doesn't even gesture for harry to stand. instead he takes a seat on the bench next to his, a respectful distance away, they had been. . . compromised lately. the dark lord's arm grew longer each passing day, and not only potter's thoughts were poisoned by lord voldemort's handiwork.

he didn't look up as they flew away, knew it only meant new company and he held his breath, almost fearing who it could be. and as his voice reached his ears, Harry wasn't quite sure if he should find himself comforted or not ( though he guessed there was some camaraderie, an understanding he hadn't quite found yet, of someone sharing a life experience ) "Hey." it sounded lame, even to him but a small smile still managed to reach his lips before nodding. "I'll catch them at the common room or dinner at the great hall." even if he'd rather not be there at all.

/ / GHSTLNES an INDEPENDENT, SELECTIVE, PLOT BASED writing blog, featuring an ever growing roasters of canon and original muses ; majorly yellowjackets and wot based, and many others / lovingly tormented penned by cris [he/him lesbian, 28]  \ \

He doesn't look up from the leather-bound book he is translating for Kiri — He, sadly, had his aids on, in case of his mothers needing him, when Eliza strolled in. Nikko much prefers her when he can ignore her presence in peace. (His luck has been running low lately, and he is not surprised she caught him unprepared.) So he doesn't need to look at her — and he doesn't want to. They grew up from childhood rivalry, but Nikko prefers the twins when they are only words on a birthday card.

At least it's only one of them, now.

"No, Eliza," he calmly responds, tracing a particularly strange word with a gentle fingertip. It is cold in his room — It has to be; for all the ancient books, skeletons, and terrariums he has stocked. The shiver down his spine is completely out of annoyance, however. "I will not help you get rid of a body. Do you remember when we were kids, you used to lock me in empty rooms?" He remembers the ghosts too well; taunting him, begging him, screaming at him — clawing at him until he was bleeding and with marks no one knew where they came from.

(They were kids — and Nikko doesn't hold Eliza accountable for that. He did his fair share of fucked up things, back then. But he doesn't want to add another dead face to his roster.)

He finally looks up from his book, frowning. "How did you even get in the house anyway? I thought you were sucking baguettes in France, or whatever." Fucking French people.

"Good times."

It's a joke. She learnt over time that the ghosts bothered Nikko in different ways than they did her. But they bothered them anyway.

Humming, she picks a dinosaur figure to inspect it before putting it back down. "Picked the lock." She says easily, shrugging as she walks to his bed, letting herself flop down onto it as if it were her own. "Poor Aunt Cissy, if she ever heard you speak like that about good'ol France." A small smirk reached her lips as she checked her phone, reading over the replies. "But we got back a week or so ago, and mom thought it'd be a good idea to pay you a visit." And she was still waiting for her brother to reply to carry on with what she had planned.