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Just can't believe this, man This is another night of these thoughts Can't get this out of my head For the third night in a row, Eren stared at the darkened bedroom ceiling, sleep evading him once again. Suspicion and doubt cluttered his uneasy mind while poisonous thoughts ensnared his imagination, tainting his perception and slowly crushing his faith in you. No. It’s impossible. She would never… In anguish, Eren shifts positions and confronts himself with your sleeping form. His emerald hues slowly travel its length, pausing on your soft curves before catching on the steady rise and fall of your chest.

A/N: Part 1 of 2. Check the description for a link to Part 2. Listen It's just a cruel existence like there's no point hoping at all Sleep escapes the darkened orbs staring eyes wide open at the walls before them. It had been months since you left the Armed Detective Agency, its physical capacity too limited to keep your brilliant soul contained; at least, that’s how Osamu Dazai saw it. Traveling the world had always been your dream. Since your very first day at the Agency, a never ending stream of books espousing the excitement of distant lands were your constant companions, random brochures and shining ads crammed in-between their

Drip…drip…drip The incessant falling of liquid pounded its way through your drugged subconscious, loosening the strands of fogged webbing encasing it.  Seconds later you groan, coming to with your head lolling on one side, heavy from sedation and lethargy. Dried spittle crusted the corners of your mouth, evidence that you had been out for several hours. Where am I? The question darted in and out of the recesses of your brain, its answer an elusive phantom dancing just out of your reach.  Dazed, you motion to get up only to be encumbered by harsh fabric digging into the creases of your wrists and ankles, binding them together in

Rumor Has It by Adele She, she ain’t real She ain’t gonna be able to love you like I will She is a stranger You and I have history Or don’t you remember? RUMOR HAS IT… Strung together at the beginning of a sentence, those three simple words was all it took to turn your seven year relationship with Erwin Smith into one of absolute torture, filled with self-doubt and never ending questions. It began with a simple whisper, hushed tones passed back and forth behind raised hands and covered mouths. Over time, the whispers grew into full fledged discussions consisting of theory, conjecture, suspicion, even wagers; nothing

Ryuji Suguro leaned against the door frame of one of the culinary classrooms at True Cross Academy. Sure enough, he found his classmate, Irene Marquez, chopping away at her vegetables, completely oblivious to all that surrounded her.   Typical, Ryuji snorts.  We’re learning how to summon low-level demons while she’s in here wasting her time on another one of her hair-brained food recipes.  When is she ever going to start holding herself accountable to the duties of being a Page? Ryuji sighs loudly and pushes himself off the door frame, making his way towards the back of the classroom where Irene had settled herself.   “So

Read this story with the music link provided in the description... Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember, and a song, someone sings, once upon a December. Darkness.  It surrounded you. So immense that your mind couldn’t breathe under its suffocating weight.   You called out. No one answered. Thousands of questions swirled around in your dimly lit conscious.  You could remember nothing except a few faint impressions, lost in feeling. Someone holds me safe and warm, horses prance through a silver storm.  Figures dancing gracefully across my memory. Where did you know that song from?  Its me

~Begin Text Message~ LadyKiller: Ready for the game tonight? You: Yeah. Especially since I missed last night. LadyKiller: Good. You: I just hope it doesn’t storm. LadyKiller: Weather looks fine to me. You: I’m staring down some pretty nasty cloud formations right now. LadyKiller: Better watch out, __________. They’re coming for ya. You: Yes, they are. I feel like a baby seal being hunted down by a giant walrus cloud. LadyKiller: Awww, you’d make a cute baby seal. You: Which makes me all the more desirable for those blubbery, puffy mammalians. LadyKiller: Are you calling me a fat walrus? You: What? No! Lady

He knew it was for the best. Too many souls depended on you for survival. It would be cruel, nay viscous, to steal the livelihood of those poor, unfortunate mortals for something so selfish as love and the nonsensical concept of starting anew. Flexing his mechanical fingers, he prepares himself for the inevitable. “There is something I must tell you.” “Can’t it wait? Our bus is leaving in five minutes.” Genos stares at you with unblinking eyes. “I'm not going.” You give him an incredulous look. “Nonsense.” Several moments pass yet the resolute cyborg says nothing. Self-confidence shat