i can scream out loud,
but i'm wasting my time.
this pain only reminds me
i'm still alive.
{ i'm still alive - saving abel }
 
@holy-platypus
 
-
 

 
it was six thirty on a friday night and most college students would be out drinking at a party or having dinner with their friends. sasha, however, was in the university library at her typical table (the middle-back, able to be seen from a passerby in the back and front of the building) with at least a dozen open books spread out in front of her. her big brown eyes were on the words on the pages, flickering between pages and books, but she wasn’t registering anything. though her face was blank, she was in turmoil. her insides were in nervous knots and butterflies fluttered in her stomach. she felt like she was going to throw up. but this was usual. she was breaking the rules, and she knew better than to break the rules. the library was fine - it was one of the few places she was allowed to go to - and she didn’t have to be home until it closed. but the fact that she was deliberately meeting someone was probably one of, if not the, worst rule she could break. she wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone. if they tried to start up a conversation she was to politely shut them down or just not respond. but not many tried so she was safe. but then she’d met cameron.
 
like always, sasha was at the library. however, unlike many - okay *all* - other days, that tuesday, the library was busy, full to the brim. quite a few of the freshman classes’ tests were falling on the same day, and the poor kids were scrambling to study. many of the tables that were left unused were filled with stressed eighteen-year-olds. cute. but all was well. sasha still had her table to herself. until, that is, around five thirty or so and someone had tapped her shoulder. he was tall and blonde with kind blue eyes and an easy smile that made her want to smile back at him...and a load of books. though she’d been hesitant at first to allow him to share the table with her - thomas would be furious if he knew - it would be rude to make him go elsewhere, so she cleared off half her table. he was nice and started up a quiet conversation with her (99% one-sided) before they went back to their work. but then the next week, he’d returned and, though the tables were opened up again, he asked if they could share a table again. that was when she learned his name. cameron *lastname.* this time, their conversation was slightly more two-way. only slightly.
 
and it’d gone like that for nearly two months. he’d come back every week - then slowly more frequently - and they’d spend half of their time working, then wrap up with a bit of chit-chat. slowly, he’d pulled her out of the shell she’d been cowering in. she liked him. she really did. he was so nice and so easy to talk to. and it was the library. she was talking to him, but the library was safe. so thomas couldn’t be mad. or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. but the days when she woke up to remember that she’d see him at the library after class were always the best. she *wanted* to see him. he chased away the storm clouds that seemed to cling to her. and that was a million times worse than just talking to him.
 
with a quiet sigh, sasha closed her eyes, putting her elbows on the edge of the desk and resting her head in her hands. this was so wrong. it would be this third visit this week, one they planned out. he never questioned why they couldn’t go elsewhere - he just said he’d bring something - coffee, probably, or pastries. and at the time, it had been a lovely idea. but this morning had been horrible. after he’d chased some random girl out of their apartment in the small hours of the morning, he’d woken her up and had his way with her. and then when he was through, she made him breakfast. which, evidently, wasn’t good enough. the plate had been thrown at her, but she’d ducked out of the way - which hadn’t been the right choice, clearly. that earned her new bruises, including one to her face that she’d struggled to cover up with her make up. he’d never hit her on her face before - he was far too smart for that. but she supposed he just didn’t care too much anymore. it wasn’t like she had friends to notice. only cameron. and with this morning’s events, she was becoming increasingly antsy and unsure about their meeting.
 
when a soft tap came at her shoulder, sasha all but jumped out of her skin, and she nearly fell out of her chair. she took a moment to recover before she turned her eyes upwards. cameron. she was half expecting it to be thomas. unable to help herself, all her anxiety melted away, and she smiled and got to her feet, hugging him gently before quickly taking her seat again, her eyes darting around nervously. shit. bad move. she shouldn’t have hugged him. tucking a lock of hair behind her ears, sasha closed up a few of her books and set them to the side while he put his goodies on the table. she glanced up at him with a shy smile. “hi,” she said softly. “how are you?”

@holy-platypus

but you came over me
like some holy rite
and although i was burning
you're the only light.
{ only if for a night - florence and the machine }
 
-
 
@holy-platypus
 
-
 
andi couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept. it could have been hours or days or even months. she had no idea. her mind was racing, and she just couldn't shut it off. formulas, theories, facts, date, memories, conversations - they all sped through her mind, jumbled and indiscernible.
 
it had started on the tuesday she came home form a business meeting in dubai. (how long ago that was, she couldn’t say.) people rarely visited her, and none did so without an invitation - especially family - so seeing her aunt olivia in her living room, red-eyed and sniffling and cradling a cup of coffee had set off the first alarm. the woman had hardly made it through ‘andrea’ before she was breaking down into sobs. it took a good fifteen minutes, but olivia finally choked out the words ‘your parents were in an accident. they didn’t make it.’ andi hadn’t said a word. she just turned around and walked downstairs to her workshop.
 
many people had come to try to lure her out. aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, acquaintances. none could get into her workshop, though, and she’d turned up her music louder to drown them out. eventually, they’d leave. and then she’d locked down her house. no one could even get through the gate to the body of the house without her permission. slowly, they stopped trying. and finally, andi was alone. but she didn’t really notice. she just buried herself in her work. there was a bathroom and all her things were down. projects that had been left to the wayside were finished; prototypes were polished; songbird, her home computing system, was upgraded and some cobwebs were brushed out; cars were tweaked and oiled and waxed; and she even drafted up a few new concepts. not once had she slept - or, for that matter, eaten. there was water from the sink, but she hadn't thought to order food or drag herself out of her safe haven.
 
the funeral had probably passed, but there was no real reason for her to go. she was over it. it had happened. her parents were dead. end of story. there wasn’t much else to it. death was inevitable. even her father, brilliant as he was, couldn’t escape death. the whole thing was actually kind of comical. her parents had treated her with such indifference throughout her life, and there she was, not even so much as blinking over the fact they were dead. part of being a king, she supposed. her father was a drunk with violent tendencies and her mother was a thoroughbred wasp. in life, they regarded her indifferently. start reading at two? should have been eighteen months. graduate high school at thirteen? should have been twelve. graduate first in her class at MIT with a double-major? should have been three. as much as she resented them for it, it helped her. it made her work harder, push herself.
 
. . .
 
a series of three beeps captured andi’s attention, and she spun about in her chair and watched a man walk into the house and toward the basement. and when she blinked, she genuinely shocked to see someone standing at the bottom of the stairs, outside the door to her workshop. shit. it took her a few moments for her brain to catch up with her eyes, and she recognized the man as eric, her head of security and her personal security guard. he was such a sweet man. so genuine and committed to his job...which was good. because andi really didn’t feel like dying any time soon. and he put up with her bullshit better than almost anyone she knew. andi could honestly say that she trusted him. and she liked him a lot. probably a bit more than she should.
 
with a quiet sigh, andi rubbed her forehead before quietly telling bird to let him in. she didn’t much mind to what kind of states people saw her in, even her staff. hungover, half-undressed, glammed up, just woken up, drunk, in the midst of a fuc.k. it didn’t matter. she wasn’t ashamed of herself. but she couldn’t help but wonder what eric was seeing. did her face show her racing mind? were her eyes wide with dark circles underneath? was her skin pale?
 
as he walked in, andi reclined a bit, crossing her legs loosely. she clasped her hands in her lap to hide the tremors and looked at him expectantly. god, it was so bright. she was antsy. extremely antsy. she just wanted him to leave. damn him and his access. though rationally she knew that if she didn’t want him to be there, she could have just not let him in - he would have left. but for whatever reason, she’d let him in. why? she really wanted to know. because now she wanted him to leave. “eric,” she said with a vague smile, her voice rough from lack of use. “what can i do for you?” unable to keep still, she got to her feet and paced over to the more open area of the workspace. plus, she wanted him away from all her computers. she really didn’t want him to break them. “what can i do for you?” had she just said that? she really wasn’t sure.

@holy-platypus
 

i think we should start each others?
i have a lot of inspo for my male so? :d
 
thinking we start with:
 
a: them getting ready for battle and then kind of having feels when they get back because maybe he got hurt or almost did or maybe it was her
 
or
 
b: her helping him get ready to go and meet stannis. and then something happens with stannis and he gets hurt (basically stannis declaring war on his brother) and then she’s really angry and is all “i’m going to fucking rip his lungs out” and he’s like “calm down woman just come here.”
 
but yeah
beginning of feels
no, like, i love you
but feels
thoughts? :3
 
because meetings just really fuckk my shit up.
??

in 1231 at age sixteen, lennox had been exiled from france after a small “misunderstanding” and had traveled to england. she liked the rain and it wasn’t *too* far from her homeland. there, she had met alexis. from the very beginning, she’d been taken with him. he was all smiles and flattery and easy japes. tall and handsome - and a *lord* no less. and he was paying attention to *her.* it was a dream. he lured her - willingly, very willingly - back to his bed. though her virtue was not intact, he was so very sweet with her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and peppering her skin with tender kisses. for a time, everything was perfect. and then he changed. he became mean and possessive and soon she couldn’t leave the house. but it wasn’t so bad. until he started to hit her, that is.
 
it was two months later when lennox attempted to kill herself. a stray bit of rope and a chair and she would be free. she’d kicked the chair away and felt the life drain as she struggled for breath, but somehow, somehow, she’d woken up. alexis was there, a grin on his face. she was ravenous, and her head was throbbing. he’d said something about her being his forever, but her mind was elsewhere, on the fact she could *hear his heart beating* or that her blood was singing with delight, that she felt like she could take on the world with a hand tied behind her back. she spent the next two hundred years at his side. they traveled and they saw and they conquered and they killed...oh, they killed. each day, she prayed for death. but death never came.
 
instead she got gabriel. he was tall and lanky and dark-haired and kept alexis in check. with him there, alexis never wanted to hit her. lennox was always trying to find ways to get him to stay. it was refreshing to not live in constant fear of her...boyfriend? fiancé? husband? when gabriel was there, she was safe. and he stayed. why, she honestly couldn’t say. but he had. he’d stayed and protected her from his brother. he made her laugh and would sometimes sneak her blood (alexis liked to keep her underfed so she wouldn’t be able to fight him.). it was refreshing and she felt alive for the first time in centuries. she became bold, and she relished in the sight of alexis becoming angry. but never did anything. and then gabriel helped her escape. he created chaos in town - spreading the rumor that alexis was a vampire - and waited long enough for them to come with their pitchforks and torches he’d bundled her up and helped her escape.
 
but they had to run. alexis was always one step behind them. they ran and ran and ran, and lennox learned gabriel’s secret. he loved her. all the better for her. she let him be her protector and let him have her in as many ways as he wanted. she kissed him tenderly and told him that she loved him and fell asleep in his arms. but she was always planning. what would she say to alexis if he caught them? would their camp be far away enough from the road? and then one night, she’d slipped out of his arms and run away from him.
 
that was almost four centuries ago.
 
-
 
yawning from behind her hand, lennox walked into her apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. her bag went onto the table next to the door, and she stepped out of her shoes, beginning to pluck the bobby pins from her hair. it only took half a second for to her to realize that something was wrong. someone had been in her house. someone was in her house. she could hear their heart beating; she could smell them. and she knew that smell. her head snapped up, instantly going to the couch in the living room. he was just there, stretched out like he’d sat there a thousands times before...like the last time he’d seen her wasn’t nearly four centuries ago when she’d lulled him to sleep with a quiet song and a murmured ‘i love you’ and then run away.
 
quickly, lennox composed her face, and her features melted into a tender expression, her eyes softening and a small smile tugging at her lips. “gabriel,” she whispered softly.
 
-
sorry that was really long o.o
 
@holy-platypus

@closest-to-heaven
 
-
 

on her first day of college, harlow met cooper. he was a striking man. tall and lean with vibrant blue eyes and dark hair and a white smile and cheekbones that could glass. any girl would have their panties down in seconds, and harlow knew that well. cooper liked to spank. he liked to spank and bite and pull hair and call her names. and though harlow hadn’t liked it too much, and when she pinned him down returned the favor, he stopped short and grinned at her like she’d just given him the best present in the world. and then they’d laid there in her bed, half dressed, for the next four hours, and she’d poured out her soul to him. he took her to sanctum the following day. they’d been best friends ever since.
 
over the next three years, many submissives passed through harlow’s hands. blonde, brunette, ginger, dark, fair, thin, curvy, muscular, tall, short...it made no difference. they all left. mostly, it was harlow’s doing, but a few had initiated it. but harlow didn’t regret it. she looked for perfection. perhaps that was a bad thing, but she didn’t see herself changing any time soon. there was a girl out there that would be perfect, who would call her ‘ma’am’ and love the kiss of a riding crop against her skin and crave her praise. that was all she wanted. and it seemed that, today, her odds would go up. though the majority of playing and time spent between dominants and submissives was spent actually *in* sanctum, two had left to live with their dominants full-time and another three had moved. that opened up five spots for their ‘income season,’ and since harlow was without a current sub, she would be meeting them.
 
-
 
with a sigh, harlow got to her feet and walked to the large window that overlooked the busy streets of *city*. interviews had not gone well. they were all untrained - which she wasn’t sure was a pro or con - but none of them were right. the first girl had called her harlow, which had prompted an immediate dismissal; the second was very sweet and bubbly but very, very dumb; and the third wore something that harlow wouldn’t even want to see on stage in vegas. was a bit of intelligence, manners, and modesty too much to ask for? but it was more than that, she knew. she was hard to please. it was a fact she had long accepted. she sought perfection. nothing more, nothing less.
 
a soft knock came at the door, and harlow straightened, smoothing her hands gently over her dress before turning about as the last woman entered. she was short, probably half a foot shorter than her (with the addition of her heels) with vibrant red hair and full, soft lips and big brown eyes. harlow allowed her a very small smile and walked forward, offering out a hand. “you must be tia. i’m harlow aspen.” lightly, put a hand on the girl’s back, guiding her forward a bit. “please take a seat.” harlow took the folder that tia carried and sat down behind her desk, smoothing out her dress and straightening up some papers and placing the folder, still closed, atop them before looking up again. “tell me about yourself,” she requested. “anything that comes to your mind. age, favorite color, how you found sanctum, your limits. it doesn’t matter to me. just talk.” though the personal details weren’t of much importance, she wanted to get a feel for the little redhead. clearing her throat, she crossed her legs and clasped her hands in her lap, dark eyes fixated on the girl in front her.

@holy-platypus

@closest-to-heaven