LOCATION: London, it’s boroughs and it’s people, the streets above and the sewers below, London is HIS and it has always been for as long as he has known it, he bears this knowledge like a king himself as he traipses the wandering streets and the city wraps ‘round him like a cloak
Indie. Private. Selective. || The Artful Dodger from Dicken’s Oliver Twist || Artwork by todd.
———THE TASTE OF HIS LIPS WAS SOMETHING INDESCRIBABLE AT FIRST. what was there to describe in a space of emptiness? the dark taste of the alien’s saliva slicked his throat, a kiss continued despite his suddenly overwhelmed jaw.
there were times in which he couldn’t quite wrap his head around their relationship. wordless, sensual love that managed to end with elliot against the wall, nichts between his legs, naked. he’d just gotten out of the shower, still wet and half dressed when they’d begun their little game. for a second, he could feel something between his cheeks, rubbing into his lower back. the man pulled away from the kiss for only a moment, arms wrapped around his partner’s neck as he angled to look at the large appendage wanting to gain access to his holes.
❝ fuck me. ❞ he breathed, resuming the kiss as he felt the tendril align with his entrance. spreading his walls, he felt full with the invading member. it wasn’t until he’d been pulled into nichts’s arms that elliot realized the pace at which he’d set, pounded hard like a toy for another’s use.
‘ something’s terribly sick in my head ’ ‘ these are my darkest thoughts , the bad things lurking in the closet ’ ‘ is this how i tear the monsters from my body ? ’ ‘ i want everything to stop ’ ‘ fuck your immaculate existence ’ ‘ today i want my heart to tremble ’ ‘ i want my teeth to shatter bone ’ ‘ today i want killing to mean living ’ ‘ nothing you do can hurt me but you better try ’ ‘ you can’t live without burning your comfort and safety as firewood ’ ‘ maybe the ghosts learned how to build stairs into the mountainside ’ ‘ believe me when i say there is no pride in this ’ ‘ i want to be one of those city sprites among termites ’ ‘ cleanse this body through tears and emesis ’ ‘ circumvention was futile , damnable ’ ‘ we’re all burning ’ ‘ we learn to laugh in the midst of the inferno ’ ‘ i realize now that i am the one out of place ’ ‘ i want to destroy all the parts that aren’t working ’ ‘ i never knew i had the capacity for cruelty ’ ‘ i condemn myself to failure without batting an eyelash ’ ‘ choosing to protect ourselves is not failure ’ ‘ nothing is working ’ ‘ at some point i stopped , i sank ’ ‘ breathing seems so difficult now ’ ‘ living was easy as breathing once upon a time ’ ‘ i don’t think it’s living , but it’s not hurting either ’ ‘ my body is a room made of glass walls and wooden floors ’ ‘ today , i ache for somewhere to hide ’ ‘ how do i turn the light on in my eyes ? ’ ‘ please , no one look at me today ’ ‘ i mused over all the times i had prayed to a god i do not believe in ’ ‘ the gods died laughing ’ ‘ you must learn fear ’ ‘ let’s not be enemies tonight ’ ‘ hold my hand while our greatest tragedies are lost and forgotten ’ ‘ you are only a murderer if someone cares ’ ‘ dreaming is so painful and i wish i would stop ’ ‘ i can still love you with my eyes closed ’ ‘ i’m not sure why you’re acting surprised ’ ‘ let me pretend that i’m made of magic ’ ‘ i am a creature of contradictions ’ ‘ remember your strength , unchanging and eternal ’
send me a number from 1-25, without peeking, and i will choose the suiting option for our muses and write up a drabble/starter/moment according to the image! (trigger warning for graphic sexual content and other mature themes)
‘ You come in here a LOT, you know. I promise the selection doesn’t change that frequently. ‘ It’s not given unkindly – contrary, bright eyes light up when they settle onto the familiar figure. An old spirit with a young face turned regular, turned a pleasant sight, turned to curiosity he wants so dearly to dig deeper into. Though he feels stuck if not behind his own desk then a well standing between him and the man made up of poor circumstance. But, he reminds himself every time when the topic arises, someone coming back so frequently isn’t just looking for BOOKS.
The small handful of novels by the register serve as an excuse to stand and move a bit closer, as though he doesn’t already KNOW where they go. ‘ … If you’re coming in just to say hi, I DO sometimes leave the house once the store is closed. On rare occasion. ‘
———THE CURL OF HIS LIP AS THE OTHER APPROACHED WITH BOOKS IN TOW. he rarely found himself in a situation where another had caught on so fast. perhaps it was the fact he’d been impatient with this, the small town deprived of many things he found interesting. it wasn’t that the place was boring, of course not… he found something he’d much rather occupy himself with. pushing back a lock of hair, the man plucked a familiar title from the collection.
❝ i’ve been eyeing your goethe collection for some time ; rarely do i find it in the original german, unless i’m special ordering it. ❞ flipping to a page in the hefty anthology, he placed a finger down on a random line, reading it to himself:
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