Raven with a Cravat and Key

Not exactly, push pins?

  Groaning in pain, as i wrapped my arms around my head in a stance of protection,
i wrapped the several layers of comforters over my frail, shivering, form,
  The amused man towered over my form,
He  stood besides me with a decanter of 'pain killers', 
''Wouldn't want my successor dying on me, eh little Levi?'',
 the man spoke, as he etched a smirk on his complex, due to my suffering, 
i simply glared at the man,
I was not in any shape or form willing to argue with this old geezer, these withdrawls have been fucking up my system, the harsh but oh so welcoming torture,
I simply averted my gaze to the empty space besides his head,
Refusing to meet the man's lingering gaze, silently taunting me and the current position i lay in,
That did not please him, as he held the decanter out of arm's reach,
  I growled out, as sweat beaded my complex,
the pain became unbearable, 
 as i cried out as another wave of torment washed over my body,
I Stuttered out,
''Fucking fine, give me the b-bottle.'', 
the man loomed over me,
as he tossed the bottle besides me,
he stuttered out the dark chamber, 
Hastily my frail, pale hands pried the lid open,
as i popped four capsules inside my mouth,  
   I situated my body, underneath my comforter, laying on my stomach as my back muscles, ached.
  i should have learned, as many times as i experience this agony, it makes me crave more, as the prick of the needles increase and decorate my forearms, the rush of adrenaline i receive 
is ten times more addicting than remaining sober.
 tears pricked my eyes, as i felt bile rise from the back of my throat,
i clasped my hand over my mouth, and stumbled out of the comforters,
making my way towards the washroom, i collapsed on my knees
hurling into the bowl.
   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  "Jaeger, think you could beat me in a rematch?!'',
the two toned boy challenged,
   i mustered a cocky grin and directed it at the two-toned boy,
''You're on! Horse boy.'',
i out-stretched my tan arms, and laced my fingers, in a cocky gesture, 
As Armin shook his head silently but without a comment,
  Mikasa was currently situated on the beanbag in jean's room, along with
The blonde girl who always wore a     bored expression, Annie,
  And a brunette who was munching on snacks, Sasha,
both were leaning against her sides,
   As Jean begun the match,

  Haste fingers articulated in a fashion prior to a pro,
  As the match had concluded,
The brunette's mind was invaded by a wave of thoughts about a certain Raven,
  He felt as if he hadn't seen the raven in weeks.
  Even a certain science-crazed brunette was unaware of the raven's being mentally and physically seemingly the fact she had decided to question the brunette was a mere mystery as such the raven and brunette were far from being considered friends, hell even acquaintances.

   Without much notice the bright flashes of the screen displayed an assortment of pixels,
'Game over!',
  Unaware of the realization the brunette had concluded it would be better if he gone home,
  As he abruptly stood and slung a bag over his shoulder, ignoring the teasing taunts from the two-toned boy,
"I'm gonna head out, see yah guys.",
As farewells rang out through the room,
The brunette descended down the staircase,
"Bye, Mrs. Kirstein.",
he simply bid his farewell to the two-toned boy's mother,
As he trudged right out the grand- oak doors.

  Phone in hand the brunette splayed out on the sofa,
Legs crossed in an disorderly fashion on the armrest,
  An arm tucked comfortably behind his head,
Carelessly scrolling through his device to pass the time.
  Sighing the brunette gazed around the room silently, abandoning his phone,
  From prior earlier he had grown curious about the cold-natured raven,
He heard an array of rumors about the raven which he had no choice either to brush off or believe them because of how irrelevant some acquired to believe,
But irrelevant how so?,
  He wasn't close to the raven himself,
Hell he didn't even know the raven's last name, or personel beliefs and opinions whether they were biased or unbiased.
  He knew all too well what kind of person the raven was,
A Stubborn, but all too well dare he say perfection,
  He received the better of accomplishments, to be exact he was liked and disliked by many,
He received grades that could put a mere college student to shame,
Friends that cared about his well-being,
But it was vice-versa.
The brunette knew there was more to the facade than mere descriptions,
He had promised himself that he would figure out, why the raven's sudden appearance in his life was nothing more or nothing less than a conversation between one where the other wouldn't even think twice about remembering one's name.
  As if stop signs would be displayed around the raven, the brunette had decided to over-step the raven's boundaries, to see how far he could reach before he is faced with barbed wire, laced with electric shocks.
  Testing the water was risky,
Never knowing how hot or cold it might turn out to be,
But he learned it was now or never, to never regret the choices he made,
Even without knowing the outcone whether it was right or wrong,
Based on which decision would change the path of fate,
for better or worse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It felt as if magma was being injected into his bloodstream,
The pricks of the sharp end of the needle, gradually seemed to increase in patterns up his forearms,
Scars decorated his pale, contrasted skin,
    loosing count of how many hours it's been,
   The harsh grip on his wrist seemed to keep him aware of his surroundings and
Reality,
As a thin twine, was the mere glue to keep him from shattering into a million, little pieces.
  Was this the price he had been willed to pay?,
Was he willing to throw his life carelessly away in fear of the consequences?
Could this be karma's doing or was this his fault?
Unsure of that he was,
A deal with satan themself, could not save him from eternal damnation,
Was he afraid?, damn right he was,
He had every right to be having to constantly live in fear from the wrath of his uncle's superstitions that could cost the both of them.

He was fully aware of what ideals he had been binded to,
The guilt he would have to live through was like a tattoo etched in his porcelain skin,
Was he mentally prepared by doing so,
Recklessly damaging the mere body, his very mother had struggled to form in the nine months,
Was he nearly aware of the fact alone that he was silently killing himself,
  His own vendetta where his sanity was on the line,
   The self-loathing was completey lost on him however,
When had he grown to dislike him self to the point he was his own ball and chain, tightly bound around his ankle, dragging him further into the abyss of regret.

The only noise that could be heard was the bubbling of the concoctions that were strown over the burner,
And the shallow recognition of
Voices always reminding him,
As he ventured into a memory that had been dragged to the surface of the bare corner it had been buried in within his mind,

"I tried to convince her to get an abortion, as many times as i tried, she had fallen in love with you before you were even a fetus."
He lit the end of a cigar, a casted shadow over his aged-face, by his cadlemen's hat,
  Crossing his booted legs over one another,
A young raven haired boy was situated on the worn- out sofa of his home at the brothel,
  He carelessly swung his frail, pale legs,
"Tch, a prostitute as a mother, don't make me laugh.",
  The raven was well aware of the terms his uncle used, after having to live in the slums,
He chose to stay in silence, letting his uncle take his frustrations out on the raven verbally,
  "Yah, know Levi, it is you're fault were in this mess, precisely why I'm in this mess, i had my chance to escape and leave you to starve, but i hadn't grasped it tight enough.",
The raven frowned but nonetheless,
Decided to dwell on the mere appearance of his mother,
Her raven hair was always soft to the touch,
Well contrasting with her porcelain, sickly grey skin,
   His mother was beautiful and he knew it,
  She disliked the filth dearly, but still lived in the only place she could protect her pride and joy.
  The young raven loved his mother more than anything,
   He understood that this was his life, and nothing could have changed his fate, but the path others chose to follow.

The syringe was filled to the brime with the liquid,
   The raven bit his lip hard enough to draw blood,
As he hesitated, his hands slightly shook with the overwhelming sense that weighed his shoulders,
  The sharp steel, point was etched in his pore,
   As arms wrapped around his hunched shoulders,
Silent whispers invaded his concentration,
Multiple hands placed their haunted limbs on his,
  As one tone he knew all too well finally spoke out,
"Do it, little Levi.",

And so he did.