I will be taking a hiatus. Upsetting news has come to the home front. I apologise.
I’m still here! With December here it’s OT season for me. & my health is a roller coaster at best; I appreciate your patience 💕
rem isnt one to really wear lingerie or outfits for her partners; she will upon request, but otherwise she sees it as just more clothes to get in the way of the main event.
"maybe it's not okay right now. maybe it won't be for a while. whichever it is, i won't leave you." - leslie
his voice is soft against her ear, breath exhaling little puffs against the shell of it. She's curled on her side, staring off at the wall for what feels like hours. In reality, it's probably only been a few minutes; her legs feel numb as the poison works its way through her veins. It feels like forever; the constant ticking of the clock somewhere in his room, echoing around inside of her head and getting louder and louder with each beat of her heart. He promises words that are so sweet, so meaningful that Rem finally closes her eyes and feels her eyes burn and scream as they turn to sandpaper behind her lids. She knows, without having to open them, that the crimson has drained and the blue has taken over. She never meant for him to see her like this.
He starts to lean away and fear grips her-- the fear of being left alone to deal with the agonising process of being rebuilt. Rem typically takes her injections at home and lets herself be broken down and rebuilt like a toy on an assembly line before coming to wall market to indulge and ride out her high. She had been so careful around him, to let him see that she wasn't the monster she so desperately tried to hide from the world. However, fate was cruel and the bitch liked to take whatever she pleased, whenever she pleased.
Her arm lashes out, lightning quick to stop him from moving and he shushes her again, lips pressing right behind her ear. He wasn't moving to leave, just to get comfortable behind her. His arm loops around her hips, tensing and drawing her close to his chest. She feels an odd sensation bubble in her chest-- her heartbeat quickens beneath his touch and she wants to push him away, to claw at her skin until the uncomfortable sensation goes away. She sniffles, lashes nearly fluttering open when she feels a wet trail leave from the corner of her eye. She hates him; she hates the man behind her for making her feel something. Rem hesitates, sniffling again before she turns and hides her face in the crook of his neck.
bottled emotions
tell them. tell them right now. you keep your emotions bottled up and it is doing absolutely no one a favor including you. you're the type of person who incorporates your feelings into art because you have no idea how to say it out loud. you fear rejection and the fact that you might not be good enough. i'm sensing recent heartbreak or unrequited love. if it's for you, it will come back to you. you're enough, i swear.
tagged by: @poeticphoenix
tagging: @ivory-paragon, @taleswritten, @aegisregalis, @sparkstick, @lionheartedscout, @pawnshcpdevil, @cloudvii
📸 aesthetic post with our characters.
@aegisregalis // gladio
"hey. you look tired. you alright?" from pouty fire boi
@taleswritten // Clive.
Rem doesn't hear him come into the library, so when he speaks she nearly falls off of the little alcove. Her hand reaches out, bracing against the wall as does her heels-- pressing into the surface of stone before she manages to get her balance back. Her head lifts, an uncomfortable tightness in her neck. She had been in one position for far too long and the sudden movement caused her joints to ache in protest. The book that had been in her lap lay on the ground, tented and no doubt a page or two folded in. She winces, more so for the piece of literature than her own aching body.
She glances around the library, blinking owlishly before turning to sit on the edge of the precipice she had called a seat. Rem likes being up high and covered-- it makes her feel sheltered. Her legs dangle, heels tapping against the wall before she slides down from her nook and lets herself bend down to retrieve the book and close it. She had been reading for hours, yet couldn't recall a single thing she had researched. A hand lifts, rubbing at her forehead before dragging down her features in hopes of clearing the fog of exhaustion; crimson eyes flicker over to Clive, nodding her head. She doesn't talk much-- most of the people figured she was mute.
"m'fine..jus' 'lot on m'mind."
"Ya gonna eat that?" It's a question that actually means: give me that food. He is not being aggressive about it though. They're friendly with each other after all.
Rem doesn't cook much but when she does, the poor thing usually makes too much. She isn't good with measurements; math was never her strong suite in any life, she'd like to believe. She simply puts in what her heart wants and usually, it leaves her with left overs. Left overs that she either eats, or someone else takes; she doesn't mind it if some of them go missing, at least it isn't getting wasted. So when she made chicken katsudon with curry and rice, it was safe to say the poor idiot made too much for just her.
Currently, she sits at the high bar in the kitchen with her legs swinging back and forth beneath the countertop. Her portion is nearly eaten all the way, but his presence makes her stop immediately. his power is smothering her, making the bite she has in her mouth taste like ash. Suddenly, Rem isn't hungry anymore. She's never hungry when he's around. She figures it's because she's still a young blood, a foolish child in the eyes of the others in hueco mundo. It's part of the reason she doesn't mingle with them-- except for Nel. She enjoys the other's company, sometimes. Halibel moreso than the child; her silence is often a peaceful sort of presence.
" no . "
she tells him, pushing the food over to him. He can have it; at least this time he asked. Rem has no qualms with Nnoitra. He isn't too mean to her, not like the pantera weilder. He teases her, but otherwise he tolerates her. Rem likes being around him, when he isn't oozing out his reiatsu to intimidate others. Her tongue peeks out, licking the bit of curry from the corner of her mouth before seeming to shrink into herself and her oversized sweater. The wind was getting bitter, whipping more at night and chilling her to the bones so she finally switched to her winter clothing; grey leggings and that comically large, white and black trimmed sweater that covered her knees when she sat down and blocked from her nose down at the collar.
" there's more on tha' stove. " she mutters softly, letting her eys dare to peek at his face from beneath her lashes.
axgmented reblogged
-est. 07/28/2022-
Multi-para, long term plotting preferred. Crossover & Multimuse friendly. ◈ MOBILE/CARRD. ◈ HEADCANON. ◈ META. ◈ WRITING.
halloween icon !
Sometimes I forget that Rem is a manipulative killer.
❛ if you take side with my enemies , i will not hesitate to cleave your head from your shoulders. ❜
"cleave it then!"
Rem screams, pushing against that initial fear with the only other thing she knew: anger. It floods her veins, boiling through the hollow channels of her body and causing her limbs to shake. The rage courses through her, eyes filling with the cerulean glow of their shared genes, pupils thinning and her vision feels sharper. Her blazer is torn from her body, laying in a crumpled heap behind her as she storms forward, boots thudding against the concrete of the roof; brass knuckles gripped tightly in her right hand to the point of her joints screaming from the pressure of her grasp.
"tear it from my shoulders with your bare hands!"
rem shouts, that churning in her stomach causing waves of nausea to crest and fall like a wave. Her voice breaks, quivering with the unbridled rage she feels towards the image of his figure. He had to be real this time; the thrumming of her heart matched his own-- she felt his breath with every inhale of own lungs and her cells vibrate with intensity: they call to him, cry for a reunion between the two of them. She barely feels the tug at the center of her core: the lead that cinches tighter and tighter is ignored as she stands but a few feet from his towering body.
"They are my family.. they are my home."
she snarls, fangs gleaming as exasperation waivers her voice. She abandons the half-jargon she usually speaks, ire clarifying her words. Rem heaves, panting as she stands before the general in a sullied uniform; red dries to a rusty colour, staining the whites of her shirt and there are patches of crimson that are drying against the black slacks. The blood isn't hers, but of her comrades-- of the other turks and she feels tears prick at the corner of her eyes.
"we.. are not your enemies. you are your biggest adversary. your hatred blinds you and makes you a fool!"
her heart aches, the voices in her head writhing like smoke and screaming out for his touch. Her skin crawls, goosebumps breaking across the surface of her flesh. She's hot to the touch, outrage causing a flush to break across high cheekbones and her lip is tender from a wound that would bruise in the coming days. She feels a hiccup strangle her throat, and Rem tries to speak past it.
"if you are a man of your word then do it! end my suffering and bring this reunion she wants so desperately to happen, but know this, Sephiroth. The planet will not weep for you as it will for me!"
❛ do you see yourself a monster as I see myself? ❜
it had been a good night.
drinks had come back to back, the honeybees were putting on one hell of performance, and everyone was in high spirits. The nightlife was thriving down the alleys and buildings of wall market-- a night of celebration after a few successful missions; turks blowing off steam in a way of r & r. rem had even gotten a cute girls number, scribbled on the inside of a gum wrapper and tucked safely inside the pocket of her blazer. rem had thought about giving her a ring on her way home-- there was just something about a pretty blonde…
their merry band of misfits and delinquency parted ways, Rude keeping a very intoxicated reno up on wobbly legs as if he were a newborn fawn. He was grinning, mouth stretched in a smile and when he attempted a two-finger salute, Rude pressed his mouth into a tight line to keep himself from grinning at his partner's antics. Something told Rem he was probably going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. at their departure, rem had just finished off a cigarette and flicked the spent filter towards the side of her figure as she exhales the toxins into the air.
she shoves her hands into the pockets of her blazer, the fingers of her right hand sliding into the designated slots of her brass knuckles as her left fingers grazed the foil of the gum wrapper that the girl had shoved into her pocket. The thought makes her lip twitch in another smirk as she turns the corner, cutting down an alley in an attempt of a shortcut as she makes her way home. the turk had plans to hit the gym in the morning, to cross a few errands off of her list and maybe even visit the bar to check on the kids; if they had been good for a certain bar-tender, she might take them to the fair.
Her boots pause, the heel scuffing against the uneven asphalt before a sharp pain throbs behind her eyes and the suddeness of it all steals the breath from her lungs. the world stops, it has to, because nothing feels real. the wind no longer rustles trash along side the buildings, she can't hear the fading music from the clubs and no longer does she hear the chatter from the people indulging in what wall market has to offer. There's nothing-- just her shallow breathing and the pain behind her eyes.
Rem can feel her pupils flickering, reacting-- and she manages to lift her head just a fraction against the invisible force that presses against her whole being before her tongue dries out in her mouth. He stands before her, like a phantom come to life. Sweat breaks out across her brow, the colour draining from her face and the roots of her hair tingle with the feeling of fear. her body is unresponsive as her mind screams at her legs to move, to backtrack, to do literally anything but stand like a frozen fawn in the presence of a starving lion. her shuddering breaths sound far too loud in the eerie silence that surrounds them.
❛ do you see yourself a monster as I see myself? ❜
his voice releases the pressure around her throat, like an invisible hand recoiling and allowing her to breathe. The pain in her head is constant now, speeding up with the tempo of her heart. still, her figure does not move-- it does not obey her panicked thoughts of "run, flee, get away". chest heaves as she greedily sucks down air only to have it leave in a fearful exhale; hearing his voice confirms that the nightmare stands before her.
he has no idea, how much of a monster she is. how every night she wrestles with the desire to give into the haunting shrieks and ghostly demands of a woman who claims to be mother-- how the cosmos cries for her body to burst into starlight and bring forth the ruination of the planet. how desperately does she wish to paint the inside of the presidents office red, to tear his throat open and watch the very life drain from his eyes. Rem staggers, footsteps sounding just as deafening as her laboured breathing-- a hand shoots out, palms scraping across the surface of the rough brick in an attempt to keep herself outright. When he steps forward, her knees buckle and she grits her teeth together, ivories clenched as a wounded noise leaves through them.
"…am no monst'r.. y-ya weren't eith'r… at least.. no'back then…"