now my collarbones all crystal | dump

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:100%;"]i can't really be 'back' without having a dump full of writings and characters now can i? anyway, this is it! feel free to browse, post, interact w me, pm me about anything here if you'd wanna plot, whatever! thanks for stopping by! <3

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:100%;"]so, um, i think it's official this is another one of my Big Relapses bc i wanna shamelessly bring wolfsbane back? im such a slut for my old og character,, but like? he's such a staple of mine and i gotta just embrace his problematic ass self ??

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:100%;"]His fingers dusted down the curve of his back, finding his spine and gliding their path along the valley there. The morning sun poured in through the slits of the blinds, warming the room and creating geometric patterns on the white and beige sheets that lay lazily upon the two. It was silent except for the distant songs of birds outside, the moment seemingly belonging to only them; no one else existed here, in the tangled bedsheets of their great love.

His hands continued, now leaving the valley to curve around his sides, grazing his ribs to find his chest. Where the tattooed vows lay, forever promising Uma to him, promising their shared forever. There was a certain mingle of adoration and guilt that seemed to be caught in Bane’s gut. Remembering their falling out, the man wanted to rid himself of those times. This was all that mattered to him- watching adoringly as his beloved dozed gently beside him in bed, his soft skin glowing in the sun’s streams. This was all that mattered to him. How could he have ever thought differently?

Wolfsbane’s grey irises trailed over his frame, as if committing it to memory. He himself lay next to Uma, propped on his elbow as his other hand danced lightly over his fiancé’s form. A moment more passed before Uma rustled in the sheets, slow movements until his eyes opened lazily, bright blues finding Bane in no time. They exchanged a smile, one full of knowing. A familiar smile.

”Goodmorning,” Bane spoke deeply, voice still rough with sleepiness. He dipped down to press a soft kiss to Uma’s lips, hand moving to cradle his face. As they separated, Bane gazed into those deep eyes, finding himself spontaneously lost and found in them. Those eyes belonged to the boy who knew him, truly knew his soul, knew his routine, knew his making. There wasn’t any other Bane truly believed knew him as deeply as Uma did.

He placed another kiss upon his shoulder before moving to lay back down beside him, but as he hit the soft bed, suddenly everything was gone. Wolfsbane opened his eyes to find himself in another room, in another bed, in another time. A colder bed, a darker room, a duller setting. A certain fear flooded him as he realized this was his own room. His own present time. This was his own making- his own choices. Uma did not lay beside him, but instead a flat pillow.

The man felt his shoulders sink and his chest slowly resume his normal breathing pattern. This was just another morning in his life. But this one was without Uma. Without his soulmate. A sadness filled him, weighing him down like water. Uma was not here. Uma was no more. He felt like disappearing into the bed, like laying there until he began to rot away. But this was just another morning, just like any other morning. He would see Uma again tomorrow dawn, feel his skin in his dreams again, kiss his face and greet him before falling awake. Just like every other day.

  — just wanted to get some muse off. this is about uma and bane’s infamous relationship, and the aftereffects of bane coping with its end. i miss writing about them and truly think bane won’t ever be able to fully move on past his first great, true love. i think he’ll forever love uma, and live with his guilt and his regrets.

[marsy]

falls in
i love u & ur characters & ur writing sm i cry ty

[south]

[align=center][div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:100%;"]wipes a tear

tysm ur an angel <3
i love u ty

[Devilad]

[align=center][div style="width: 455px; text-align: justify; font-family: nyala; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 1px; color: #000"]*rolls over* ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ <3

[south]

[div style="width: 500px;text-align:justify;line-height: 108%;"][align=center]   
KYROS BASTIAN CHRISTIANO

profession. professional boxer
age. mid twenties- maybe twenty six

brief history. raised by a single mother from birth, kyros had been a clingy toddler, despite his mother's slight drinking problem. although they had rough nights, his mother loved him dearly, and he her. kyros did his part to look after her, and she went to great lengths to care for him as well, whether it be picking up so many shifts that kyros was continually home alone at a young age, or making money in the night with strange men. he lived in a low income home, but he never truly minded.
at the age of eight, kyros was walking home from school when he was kidnapped. dragged into a van and knocked out, his captors had little empathy for the child. soon, kyros was thrown into the world of child trafficking, namely in drug trades. he acted as a drug courier, and was 'paid' in money and drugs. by the age of nine, kyros was addicted to a number of substances. this created a cycle of doing whatever the drug cartels requested he do in exchange for these drugs. as he grew older, he was forced to face the violent side of this lifestyle, having to kill or hurt others at the whim of those in authority to him. by the age of ten, kyros knew how to hold and use a gun to end someone's life.
the boy repeatedly made attempts to escape this cycle, but failed every time. he was beaten and abused in attempt to keep him under their control, and the fear of this happening again wracked kyros' mind. he was arrested when he was sixteen, and held in a detention camp under charges for drug trafficking. he was finally released by the time he was nineteen, and has been trying to adjust to a normal lifestyle since. looking to make money, kyros soon became a professional boxer, using his violent history and impulses to his advantage.
mental illnesses. ptsd, insomnia/sleep paralysis, anxiety, depression, mild antisocial personality disorder
  - effects/symptoms. ptsd: kyros experiences flashbacks about once per month/every other month of certain traumatic experiences during his youth. he deals with an increased irritability and hostility in his usual behavior, and exhibits a self destructive behavior and social isolation. he deals with severe trust issues and his anxiety, sleep paralysis, insomnia, and depression all tie in with his ptsd.
antisocial personality disorder: kyros repeatedly shows no regard whatsoever with the rights and wrongs of society and shows extreme indifference to others' feelings. he is increasingly violent and impulsive, and disrespects others frequently. he also fails to consider the consequences of his actions, or frankly does not care. this greatly effects his relationships with others, as it is hard for him to establish and continually maintain relationships. however, he does sometimes show remorse for his actions, and he describes his experience with these symptoms as moreso of prolonged episodes he slips into unknowingly.

characteristics. impulsive, aggressive, hostile, irritable, pessimistic, courageous, loyal, guilty, quiet, empathetic (outside of his "episodes"), decisive, remorseful
interactions. [i]kyros does not easy develop his relationships with acquaintances, unless it's negatively developing. the switch from acquaintance to rival is easy for kyros- the real struggle comes with making friends. because of his past, and because of the troubles he deals with stemming from that, he deals with a lot of social barriers. in order to understand kyros, one must know the root of him, and knowing the root of him is not something he easily shares with others. many strangers soon know kyros as the kid who causes trouble, or the one with "anger issues," or just an asshole in general.
  - kyros is not good at making friends. he's also not good at maintaining friendships. friendship with kyros is a bumpy road- hell, it's more like a roller coaster. the severity of the impacts of his mental illnesses varies day to day,

(wip)

[finny.]

CRASHES IN

[south]

[div style="width:500px;text-align:justify;line-height:100%;"][align=center]

  The lights were blinding. Bursts of glaring light poured down, spilling into the ring and illuminating both he and his opponent. The crowd was roaring, a mixture of shouted words that blurred in his hearing, creating a constant mingle that he was able to tune out. His breathing was loud, somehow louder than the tuned out volume of the crowd, and blood trickled down his cheek. There was a moment of disillusion before suddenly everything came rushing back to full speed.

  "C'mon, Donnie, focus, dammit!" His trainer, Stevens snapped. Adonis' vision cleared as he stared ahead at the older man, who was desperately trying to regain his eye contact. "You're fine, you're fine," He said quickly, a tone of brief relief as Adonis refocused on him, only for urgency to return. "One more round- you always finish by ten, Don, don't let him last eleven! Finish it. You've got to get out of the corner and gain the upper hand." Adonis seemed agitated by his words, shaking his head and swaying back in disdain. "You want to take home this victory to your fiance, don't you?" His eyes narrowed in response, eyes flitting back to Stevens'. "Take it home."

  With a tap of his gloves and a heavy exhale, Adonis stood up, his crew quickly scurrying off the ring. His opponent rose, a mirrored scene before the ref called it, the chime sounding as he shook his arms out. His opponent neared him, and Adonis put out his gloves in defense. A jab was thrown, but Adonis danced away before it could land, taking charge of the moment and meeting his own glove with skin, landing a clean cut to his ribs. The other winced, stepping back, as Adonis stepped forward in sync. He had gain advantage, and used it to his ability- landing two more punches before knocking his opponent into the corner of the ring. Adonis aimed another jab, only to be suddenly hit with a punch to the chin. He stepped back as he grunted in pain, flexing the muscle to study the damage. Minimal. Lucky. Adonis dodged as another hit swept just past his nose, and as his opponent recovered his lost motion, Adonis landed his own jaw hit, only this one's damage wasn't as minimal. The other's body fell with a thud on the white flooring, only just missing the other's feet. There was a small struggle before suddenly a mixture of cheering and booing filled the room as the ref called it.

  His crew rushed on, as his opponent's did the same to help the man up. Their faces were lit up with pride for Adonis, all celebrating his victory in excitement, but Adonis' face was only dark and bloody. His trainer shoved up to him, grasping his shoulder and shaking it with pride. "What'd I tell you, Donnie? Go take it home to h-" "Fuck you, Stevens," Adonis snapped, "Don't ever bait me with that shit again." He shoved past the older man as he made his escape towards his locker room.

  His family went through pain, having to watch as Adonis' 9-5 really was a true beating to watch. Coming home to a beaten and bruised lover was never a scene without a fight or a pitiful look, hearing about your fiance taking too many punches and being in a doomed career was always a bitter moment. He did this to support them, but the toll it took on them was just as impactful. His mind raced with worry as he entered his locker room, sitting on his bench as he regained his breath. His crew piled in after him, including a few groupies followed by a security guard. "What a knockout, Adonis!" One crooned. "Will you sign this poster? My brother's a huge fan!" Overlapped by a "You can't be in here. Ma'am, please-" His crew of medics buzzed about him, wiping at his face and applying creams and bandages. "Hand me a bandage," "Scissors, please." Stevens pushed his way to Adonis' attention. "Donnie, I'm sorry, buddy," Adonis growled in irritation. "You know I'm just lookin' out for us both. I wanna see you ha-" "Out! Everyone! Get the fuck out!" Adonis suddenly shouted, rising to his feet. "Now!" "Donnie-" "Don't. I need you out of here." The crowd began dispersing. "And go get my my fucking family, Stevens."

  The door shut with a clang, and the man let out an exhale, trying to calm his temper, head falling as he leaned his elbows upon his knees. He raised his hands to cradle his temples before realizing no one had even helped him remove them. He groaned in frustration as he attempted to rub the tape free to no avail. Where the hell was his fiance? Why wasn't he here already? Adonis slammed his fists to the bench's surface in desperation to unleash some of his irritation. Breathe, he tried to remind himself, remember what the counseling visits told him to do. Count, close your eyes, say a rhyme, nothing was helping. He needed to see him. Needed him to tell Adonis what to do. Tell him it was okay. The man squeezed his eyes shut, drumming his gloves lightly against one other as he waited. He would know what to do to help. He always knew how to fix it.

  - Adonis' little character writing since I remade him. This is a remake of one of Marsy and I's old threads I just used to refresh myself on Donnie.

[marsy]

hhhh my baby
i love ur writing sm and i love my donnie boy Blease