15 Works by EternityCode
Listing Works
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Sam Winchester runs away from home one night, fleeing from his drunk father. In all of his misery and all of the rain, a man in a beige trench coat offers him kindness at a bus stop and he jumps the first love train he sees. Eventually, their meetings escalate and Sam cuts ties with his father, following the man (called Castiel) down the yellow brick road. There, he discovers that it's not what is seems and the boy begins to hate and fear but finds himself unable to leave. The silence becomes too loud and Sam just wants to be in love, reassures himself that he's still madly in love because he has no other option. He finds himself with two hands in pain, knows that Castiel's taking advantage of him but he can't care anymore. It doesn't matter that their love isn't traditional. Castiel will return his feelings one day, Sam just has to be patient the way Bonnie waits for Clyde.
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It smells like one thousand degrees and a volcano ready to blow when Dean Winchester finishes attaching the ankle chains onto his brother's foot. The look on Sam's face is somewhere between a grimace and a call for murder, Omega eyes bleeding red in the low light. The stench, it reeks of rebellion and defiance; oddly strong for an Omega, even a recently turned one. Dean knows this shouldn't be happening, that he just has to—can only hope to—wait out this period of tragedy. Sam though, as much as his mind's concerned, he's still ninety-eight percent Alpha. And Alphas don't like to be restrained, locked down and treated as lesser than. Before the chains on his hands are attached, he tries to convey somewhere between a plea for his brother and a threat for dignity but when that doesn't work and the cuffs finds its mark, it feels like goddamn torture on Sam's soul.
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Malcolm isn't gentle, he isn't kind. He's a gunman, a rogue with a stubborn heart all striped bare from his chest, something you owns and cherish. You're the only one who can tell if it's a grin or growl he cracks when he brings you close, hands across your hips and body pressing up against your narrow bones. You like him like that, you like those nights when he gets a little messed up, lets his restraints snap and break skin and draw up bruises and bitemarks across your collar and neck while you're leaving white crescent moons across his back in turn, the look under your tipped hat snarky and smug.
Series
- Part 8 of Telltale Intimacy
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It's a restless night for Kayn the moment Master Zed summons him to his private chambers with cold eyes, cold drawl and icy tone. His voice is barely a rasp, a caught-on whisper but a full-body shiver tears its way under the apprentice's skin all the same. The air burns like acid all around, poison drips from his veins but he can't get enough of the intoxicating madness because it hurts, it fucking hurts so good that he howls once again when the whip is brought down on his already lacerated and flaking back; thousands of broken veins ripple and blood flies when the motion is repeated twenty times too many.
Series
- Part 2 of Resolute Relations
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He is not merciful, no one ever expects him to be and Kayn is no different. The demonic hands that wraps around his throat is not an empty warning as Swain gives it a firm, unyielding flex and closes in. Relentless teeth scrape along his throat and down his collar where it finds its mark, drawing up blood and tearing open skin. Kayn almost hisses out at the contact but the icy smile upon his own features is a bold contradiction; if only looks could cut. The exhale is demanding-Swain no longer let him inhale, a hand cupping his jawline as the general brings him close with a blank look, too close for real comfort.
Series
- Part 1 of Resolute Relations
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The boy shakes where he stands, dark eyes wide and unseeing. Bloodied hands grip the farming scythe with such an intensity, he can't feel it in his numbing palms. He thinks his face is numb too because he can't switch the stray maniacal emotion back to irrationally terrified. He grits his teeth, his eyes narrows in hysteria and everything that shatters; dried blood clumps his lashes-it's like what the nobility calls mascara, he muses- and dried blood creeps under his fingernails where it becomes an obnoxious reminder of what happened just minutes back. The coppery stench of death lingers in the hot, sun-scorched earth where the crows begin to sing.
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“It's hilarious. You actually have me cornered. You're actually going to kill me,” the man with the ridiculous hat whispers and the grin that splits his face is terrible, terrible. The man spreads his hands around and waves them dramatically, crazed with adrenaline and the knowing end. The smile that catches his face is a disarray of emotions: disbelief, amusement, and sweet, sweet pain. The warning is heard loud and clear when the other man gives a threatening click on the trigger, but he either doesn't hear, or doesn't care or perhaps both, because he turns right around, grabs the double-barreled gun by its tip with gloved fingers, and shoves it right up close and personal to his beating heart.
Series
- Part 7 of Telltale Intimacy
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When he reaches out his fingers and they touch yours, it's marble white, and marble cold. Yet, somehow, it's reassuring in a way you cannot explain with mere words so you don't open your mouth, and you don't think, and you simply feel them slowly curl around yours and you remind yourself to breath, to meet his unwavering and demanding black eyes; they're anticipating and questionable, unblinking as they just stare into the twilight drama that is your mind. There's a searing a warmth in your stomach, so white hot and blinding, that you can feel yourself crack a smile, and you feel the foundation of your distress rattle and shake, but you don't meet his eyes; not in this life, you tell him, because there's only so much room for one L or Light in this small, cruel world.
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Madness is a Mask for the Weak by EternityCode for Rigoria, adriatic
Fandoms: League of Legends
02 Sep 2017
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He's screaming, his voice hoarse and wounded, as bruised and bloody fingertips scrape at the iron bars, ghostly blue eyes locked and shattering as he watches his world tumble over the edge and disappear without a sound; it's silent and deafening at the same time, and the bone-shattering boom that echoes across his skull the next moment is so powerful, he can't breath. He's sobbing, panting, hyperventilating because he can't breathe, because he cannot force his broken mind to focus on six-legged cats, and much less, the Reality; harsh, bitten Reality.
Series
- Part 6 of Telltale Intimacy
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Because he, being Twisted Fate, you simply did not believe him when he first told you, all too suddenly that this was his end. That he was going to die.
You had let out a harsh bark of laughter, an almost sarcastic smirk and went to help him to his feet; you had really honestly thought that he was playing it dramatic.
When your hands touched flesh however, a sharp sting of long suspicion crossed your mind. You pull back and your fingers, they stick, one finger to the next, strung over with crimson-red threads.Series
- Part 5 of Telltale Intimacy
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The thief and card master doesn't meet the gunman's gaze, but only offers a fleeting glimpse before he's glancing down once again, not quite sure how to place and calculate his current status, so he chooses to avoid it instead.
His hands close around the beverage's bottle and he just keeps looking down, like he's in a soundless white room, waiting on Eternity to knock for him, but he can't, because there is no eternity to chase after and there is only reality to follow by.
Finally, the long and awkward moment passes, with Malcolm Graves forgetting that he's staring at Twisted Fate, and Twisted Fate no longer realizing his concentration has broken, and the miniature cannon in front of him is very much real, physical and not something he can simply wipe off his mind just by shaking his locks of black hair and tilting the edges of his brimmed hat.Series
- Part 4 of Telltale Intimacy
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No doubt, you want to reach your hands up to your face and just feel your fingers stick, bound by the half-crusted over layer of tissue and broken veins just for the satisfaction of knowing those wounds are very much real and this was very much reality, rather to tell yourself that you've always been wrong about everything.
You very much want to poke at the wounds on the side of your face that is now dried, but pry a little deeper and you'll feel blood, flesh and everything that is alive under there, despite how broken you really felt at the moment, because you are one stubborn man with an even stubborner heart.XxX
Every time you place your palms against the jagged walls of Bilgewater, you can so clearly see, half a million miles away, a wall similar to that you are touching, with the palms of a man pressed against it; cold, bleeding, and still believing and holding on for a person that has already died inside.
Just those degrading thoughts sends shivers down your spine and you have you remind yourself more than twenty-one times that it's not your fault, but his own stupidity.
Series
- Part 3 of Telltale Intimacy
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“Yes, Fate?”
“I don't know what I'm feeling."
“What are you feeling, you bastard?”
“Come closer, and I'll tell you,” the Card Master grinned coyly.
“You're laying on top of me,” Graves pointed out, oblivious to Fate's sentence.
“You're no fun today.”Then, without warning, Twisted Fate had printed a slobbery kiss on the left side of Graves' cheek which was followed by a baffled noise of confusion. Then, Malcolm Graves was pulling Twisted Fate off of him with a rather rough gesture. Emotions flashed under the brimmed hat and Fate tilted his head questioningly.
Series
- Part 2 of Telltale Intimacy
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The answer hit the outlaw's tongue before his question was even on the verge of finish.
This was no final showdown.
This was no battle till the last man standing.
This wasn't even confrontation.This was surrender.
Twisted Fate was surrendering himself to Malcolm Graves.Then Graves was grabbing Twisted Fate by the collar of his vest, his gun dropping onto the docks, another feral growl escaped the man; the taste of both cigar and alcohol on both men's tongues.
“Fight, you coward!” Malcolm snarled, shaking the lanky man furiously.Series
- Part 1 of Telltale Intimacy
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Jhin goes on another one of his mass genocides. After he supposedly guns down and blows some village off the face of Earth, he talks to a small boy. And yes, he kills the boy too after he rambles on about how art is related to death and how the boy should be honored and all. He then hints at a grand finale.