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@infernoath
docs. read rules before interacting. indefinite hiatus ; INACTIVE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.

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yael naim // toxic (britney spears cover)
@scrrface meow for me.
ok but do you homoerotically spray each other’s letters w your signature perfume for the other to smell ? bc we do
FT. MISUMI
° ❪ ♡ continued ❫ — gilbert / @infernoath ,
silence never felt so deafening until now . every second that passes without a meek from the other induced her heart to beat harder …. faster than moments before . gentle , doe eyes helplessly follows the silhouette of the man who is slowly becoming her god . a man worth worshipping and surrendering her adoration and devotion to . hands would tightly clench from the suspense the other is building up . all she is left to do is to pray to a guy she never believed in . asked just this once to help her to keep the only person who have acknowledged her fragile existence . once attention was finally won by her , body straightens up ; not to fix her posture , no . body’s reaction gravitates towards leaning closer to the other . other’s voice puts her anxious heart at ease . surprised at the unwarranted compliment the other generously sung of . certain that she is underserving of such kind words after rudely interrupting one’s business . however , she makes no attempt to dispute his words . aware that he knows better . tender smile was tempting to fall on such saccharine lips . the switch on the other’s tone allows it to fall back and retreat from making an appearance to what proves to be a tense situation still . head bows down in shame and didn’t dare to even look at him . eyes fixated on her hands clutching against ivory hued dress . the perfect fit to embody the kind of woman she is ; pure and clean . touch she yearns for the most made her heart flutter . foreign to such gentle caress , with skin only familiar with brute touches and rough hands . tried her best not to lean to his touch like a tamed kitten . too afraid to push her luck with the other . gaze adoringly switch to the male’s almost perfect feature ( all it’s missing is his rare smile ) . grateful for overlooking her rather harsh action earlier . once fluttering heart now beats in paranoia . every beat is ridden by guilt . eyes gleams not with glee but with tears she’s trying her best to hold back . once again proving herself that her existence is a burden to other’s . if she didn’t got involve maybe the other’s punishment would be much lighter . words are eager to come out but she is silenced with her own fear . body would shift in attempt to protest against the other’s decision but tried her best to hold it back . glimmer of hope illuminates in innocent eyes when the other continues with his statement . in one sentence , she got her going through different waves of emotions . surprised at the apology offered by the male . if anyone is at fault , it’s her and only her . guilt ridden mouth finally speaks as she looks up at the other . “ you didn’t do anything wrong . you just reminded me of our boundaries ” words tumbled out softly . the other could’ve hurt her unwarrantedly and she would still stand against her belief that he could do no wrong . would still believe that she is the one at fault . mind molded to think that way . heart made to believe that everything is her fault . pale hand from clenching it a little too hard and a little too long , reaches for his aid . “ it was different but , it didn’t trouble me . i was at fault and should be treated as such ” she responded in an attempt to carry all the faults rather than make the other feel he did anything wrong . “ don’t be sorry , it was deserved . i’m just glad you forgave me ” arms itches to wrap around the other’s torso in excitement but knows better than to cross such a forbidden line . for someone who’s form of showing of affection is through innocently tender touches and hugs , it’s hard for her to contain herself at times ( and this is one of those times ) . despite her crippling fear of how he would react —— she was unable to hold it any longer . lithe frame moves to wrap her arms around him . “ i’m really sorry ” she spoke with tears finally breaking away from her eyes . tears induced both by glee and sullen stains her cheeks . despite his words of assurance that they have reconciled , heart is still burdened by the thought that she could’ve easily lost the only person she has in her life . “ i won’t ever do anything like that again . i don’t ever wanna lose you ” she confesses truthfully . before she allows her emotions get the best of her and ruin a rather happy absolution , she steps away and maintain a respectful distance between them . back of her hand would wipe her tears as she tries to control her sobs . “ you really are no longer mad at me right ? ” once again , she desperately yearns for his validation .
OH , how she leaps into the gilded cage of his arms after he concludes the lesson , alike a little songbird that has chosen snug captivity over the strenuous fight for freedom. yet another ( this time , he supposes unknowing ) daring move is performed by her , for the infernal gentleman does not condone being touched prior to not firstly bestowing permission on one to do so , given he deems such behaviour towards himself disrespectful as someone who possesses both royal ichor as well as a greatly high rank among the masses. the referred traits are , however , presently concealed , not part of the cordial image he is painting his immoral self to be in the darling girl's mind. thus , he welcomes her in his fond embrace , silky fingertips once again indulging in a cafuné as he cards those digits through the onyx saturated ribbons of her hair comfortingly whilst he gazes down at her , always so deceivingly patient. doe-eyed and rose-cheeked , she truly seems angelic despite the tearful constellations shimmering across her complexion. ❝ all is forgiven. you have proven to realize your shortcomings , so if anything , i am rather proud of you. ❞ the pad of gilbert's thumb collects the glittery dew marring her lower lashes before his caress strays further from her visage , solely in order to rid his attire of the folded handkerchief he had formerly tucked in the left breast pocket as a decoration. having initially meant to then place the embroidered fabric upon her dainty palms for misumi to use the moment their frames abandon the warmth of each other due to the distance blossoming between them , he comes to a halt amidst the action : instead , his much larger hands closely hover beneath hers as he inspects the bruises , the hint of an ever darkening mauve hue on her skin not escaping his attentive nature. was this the reason she had shown up at his atelier ? were there , perhaps , more marks hidden underneath the layers of clothing ? courteously does he therefore guide the younger to settle in the lounge area of the room , kneeling soon enough in front of the vintage chair he has seated the elfin damsel in so as to bargain their height difference in his favour , the rich timbre of his baritone guaranteed to soothe the very second the charmer hums out a suggestion , ❝ there. whenever you feel ready , we can talk. ❞ the pyromancer eventually takes the lead in gently dabbing the lustrous sheen of teardrops off of her previously sobbing mien by aid of the embellished material , ruminating on the topic of what had happened to the soft spoken sweetheart earlier today while awaiting her own explanation , whereas the tender silence around them emanates a wholly differing character in comparison to the suffocating tension it epitomized in the beginning of their now resolved conflict.

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…and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.
Richard Siken, Snow and Dirty Rain (via illuminosity)
- 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒 ? - 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐄.
#OITSUKIGAMI , the 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘴 of the shrine from the “onmyoji” franchise. independent, highly selective, multi-verse & mutuals only, +21. gently loved & worshipped by 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 ! ♡
FT. MISUMI
majority of existence has been destined to be an endless humiliation . all too familiar with the feeling of being belittled by mere words ; have soul wither through mindless and spiteful words forced for her to silently stomach . it’s enough that she had experienced such thing , if there’s a way for her to prevent someone experiencing the pain —— she’d do it . though guilt instantly took presence after doing what she thought to be right . was she really in the position to say anything or ask anything from the other when he had nothing but gracious to her . welcomed wholeheartedly to such a beautiful atelier where she can freely express to her heart’s content without the lingering fear of someone sneaking behind her to destroy her art . at the absence of the other person in the room , that’s when the fear in the consequence of her action started to fully take control . heart heavily pounds against her chest . bruised hands from the little altercation with her father attempts to conceal the loud thumps in her chest . words were followed wholeheartedly as if she was fulfilling a long awaited prophecy . knees willingly placed against the floor . doe-eyed feature gleams with fear as she shamefully looks at him . mouth was tempted to plea for forgiveness once again but knows better than to do so . she might only end up agitating the male before her . head soon bowed down . once again completely submitting herself to the man that she now views as her guardian angel . awaiting the punishment that will be served to absolve herself for disrespecting him in his own place . “ i’m sorry for acting on my emotion , i promise to do better ” voice tender and trembling . hands tightly holds on each other while she tries her best to hold back her tears . she has no right to cry . she’s in the wrong .
SILENCE continues posing as the absolute ruler whilst the dawn-tressed beau , ever composed , ambles over to one of the large windows in favour of then directing the aim of his languid gaze at the city , extending the tension to test her resolve , to see if there is any fraction left of her bold defiance despite knowing very well it existed no more , shattered the moment he had warned her about her detestably unrefined manners. seconds waltz by , until the male turns around on his perfectly polished heels , the sunlight trespassing in through the glass glorifying his figure , scintillating above the golden crown of his strands like a halo , as though even the heavens were inclined by some celestial law to paint him as the focal centre belonging in the holiest of backgrounds ; the demon smiles a wicked , wicked curlicue , endeared by the damsel's uttered self-reflection , ❝ i am actually rather impressed. i have always known you possess an enormous heart. a benevolent fire , ❞ his serpentine tongue drips syrupy musings , the reassuring praise vocalised genuinely as he sets back to motion , ❝ however , ❞ the warmth of his voice eventually fades to strict neutralism , akin to the way summer melts away to autumn ; his alleged ‘punishment’ therefore comes in the form of poetry woven advice , ❝ you wield your compassion poorly. not every situation calls for your interference , especially if it is unleashed thoughtlessly , for you may burn the ones you wish to protect , too. in that regard , i do agree — you have room for improvement to do better next time. ❞ the antagonistic noble halts in his tracks at last after circling her , standing ultimately in front of his companion. ( is he the patron saint or the executioner ? ) gilbert does not offer her his hand yet , for instead , the pads of his svelte fingers ghost along the underside of her sweet jaw , the tip of a lone digit indulging in a caress with which he guides the younger to angle her mien so as to face him. his thumb settles on her chin to gently keep her still while the virtuoso simultaneously captures her by means of initiating a shared eye contact between them , too , resuming his talk where he previously stopped , ❝ incompetence is not rewarded favorably in my line of work — thus , i simply must discipline my underlings when i catch them slacking or performing inadequately. now , the fact you attempted to take his side may have only worsened his penalty — he was willing to learn his place 'till you involved yourself. in short , you have effectively cut him off amidst his apology. but , worry not , i am not coldhearted enough to hold him responsible for your unexpected involvement. ❞ is he not the most shameless of liars ? as if he had not considered severing the useless man's life minutes ago prior to her arrival. he withdraws his touch , solely to allow his palm to nestle on top of her silken hair , pampering her for listening to both his explanation as well as order , ❝ i apologize , too. i have a scary image i have an obligation to uphold given my position — unless i exude complete command in these affairs , i'd risk chaos . . . you understand , mm ? you're a smart girl. ❞ dulcet is the oh so low lullaby of his timbre , the improvised fairytale he's just recited to her nearing its conclusion — the chivalrous proposal of a velvet-sheathed arm to aid her in getting up from her spot , whereas his wisteria hued irises crinkle as a result of the spread of a kind simper across his mouth , ❝ it must have been hard to see me in such a light , right ? my darling , . . . i'm sorry. i sincerely hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me. ❞
Don’t give me one-sided unrequited love, give me two-sided unwanted love. Both sides are deeply in love with the other and both sides are like ‘fuck, really?? them??? really?’
He confronts chaos with discipline; He treats tumult with calm. This is mastery of Mind.
Sun Tzu, The Art of War (via rasmussenjames)

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FT. TONY
tw: heavily descriptive themes of suicide. please proceed accordingly.
Richard Jackson, from “Nausicaa’s Secret”
FT. ???
eyes widened when she saw the male spawn in her living room ——– what on earth had she just done? had she summoned him? nah, stuff like that only happened in video games, right?! oh god. she took a step back before grabbing her ps5 controller and wielded it at him. ‘ okay, wise guy… what magic trick you trying to pull here?! ’
STOIC is his countenance , the lustrous blaze of his gaze simmering beneath to the poorly improvised weapon pointed at him ; thus , utterly unaffected , the enchanting man regards his surroundings instead , his focus momentarily shifting to the leather-bound grimoire perched on the nearby desk , which seemed to be left open on a certain page. a step forward , and a lone fingertip clad in emerald velvet soon brushes over the ancient ink whereas he leans lower in order to silently read the passage , the fresh droplets of crimson that had soaked through the edge of the old paper not going unnoticed by his sharp observance , either. he is fond of witches as well as warlocks — cunning darlings he adores bantering or indulging in risky dalliances with , yet she does not strike him as the kind , her aura redolent of a mundane human's. ❝ color me surprised. do college entrance exams require immense knowledge of witchcraft now ? still , you don't look as though you were pulling an all-nighter to study. nor as if performing a ritual was one of your homeworks. ❞ oh , but when he speaks again , the tenebrous honey of his voice drips — heavy , sweet , intoxicating — so , so enthralling on its own. he is jesting , buying himself more time to properly heed the situation. the unrehearsed hostility she has shown him foreshadows the possibility the infernal call was naught except a matter of coincidences : after all , who in their right mind would invite the devil into their home ? a flick of his wrist ensures the book is closed , confiscated , too , for it vanishes at his command ( deem it a small compensation for summoning him without meaning to , or so the male continues to speculate she had done so far. ) gloved hands cross behind the peremptory curvature of his back at last before gilbert turns towards the damsel , maintaining a considerable distance between them , as the corner of his mouth gives in to a sliver of amusement , ❝ so ? what keeps you up at this hour ? hopefully not a broken heart. ❞
But elegance attracted me. I liked the way it hid pain.
Zadie Smith, Swing Time (p. 100)
& all I could hear was hunger, sainted, / stretched between the shrines of my teeth.
Scherezade Siobhan, from “Volver (Dame tu mano),” published in Pidgeonholes (via lifeinpoetry)

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FT. TONY
quiet , quieter – in the absence of the thunderous , the grotesque , the torturous . between the golden glimmer of heaven’s hour upon them – granting , adorning each with their very own halo to gleam , pristine within the liquid shimmer of an ethereal blessing – perhaps the holiest the blonde has ever been granted to feel within . in their eternal worship of exactly naught specific do they remain dwelling on – with confessions spilling alike the lifting petals at the feet of the crime lord’s very own gardens . words spinning their own constellations in their illuminated midst , leaving a trail of glitter soon to leave , soon to dissolve , evaporate leave them with the break of anew nocturne to be announced – filling the never to be sleeping city with bright gloom of reflective illuminations , blinking neon and blurring , roaring traffic echoing up into the mountains of a desolated patch of estate – surrounded by high walls and gates . oliver’s choice of words is unapologetic – sincere , declared free of usual sin to echo within the dripping crimson amongst their palms folded for prayer . this , truly , stroke a different tone – harmonised , glided and floated with ease albeit the blonde having expected naught of such to be a considerable possibility . instead of such agonising wrath chasing a tortured boy no matter where to set foot – does it smooth along as if digits were to brush across silken shirts , as if the whisper of spirits to carry their whispers with the holy breeze to lift his being , leave him the faint doubt of something empyrean to have anointed him indeed . their voice dances among the monochrome keys he had turned to enjoy whenever distressed spirit would grant him such pause .
ever so slightly , between the speech to jump and ebb – follow the rhythm of a familiar pattern to ring , graze the edges of low registers to dissolve within the sound of nature’s rustling leaves by the evening breeze to brush across their faces alike , set to witness the setting warmth in eternal distances never to be reached – the faint taste of regret lacing the boy’s tongue grows less as he lets it flick over dried lips ; usual habit to die hard within the depths of an anxious soul , lips pursing to a thin line – taste of tobacco lingering , almost paralysing ability to truly give a reply ( or – merely a comfortable excuse within very own system to settle on ) . it is pure romanticism , fuelling the veins of the blonde – a passenger has he always been , merely a witness to his countless deaths indeed ; less alike oliver , naught has he been granted a release , a chance to regenerate ( still a rather mysterious occurrence to the elder ) . it must have symbolised an agonising truth he so furiously shunned his gaze of – denied , ignored and crushed such existence of ( mere for the price of survival – not within own greed ! ) . despite such cards to lay openly disclosed upon the table – a topic he has killed over , has strangled and choked over – does the criminal leader remain within the calm headspace prior created , hues towards the horizon of an aeon bidding farewell upon the hour .
their question remains one – never to have listened nor thought of , never to have been asked nor hinted towards and so crown will turn , gaze to drift eyeing the immortal seating himself upon the polished marble of the railing – against the blazing skies upon and the whipping breeze of the dearly missed sea , in a distance naught seen . he remains silently , mere to watch – possibilities , half truths and lies to rush through a mind occupied , frozen and paralysed entirely by the inquiries left , carried by the smell of blooming eden beneath them . “ at the very beginning – uhh , perhaps i thought it would be easier , perhaps i did . “ , he denies such fact to inherit the painful truth indeed , scoffs and shrugs it off within the hesitation of words that leave lips within their attempt to explain – he had exactly intended such , had yearned and sacrificed – killed and stabbed , paid the highest price demanded ! merely within the hope to ultimately leave behind what had truly been left behind a dozen years ago . head sinks , had he not lived through entire tragedies , own executions in absolute silence ? “ however there is nothing on the other side . neither on mine – nor on yours , i dare assume . you are left – with what fate has destined you to be . “ , aware is he – of the gruesome , the grotesque sacrifice made by himself to inherit such macabre throne of all carved paradox .
even clearer does such depiction become – the moment other dives into further depths , pandora’s box opened by no other than the blonde himself . there is no other tool left for the male except to indulge within the attempt at faux smile – albeit reflecting amusement found within the unfolding tragedy at the feet of both equally rotten , equally lost souls . “ i wish you could . i wish you could . “ , almost muttered as if having slipped into absent – minded state . barely does attention shift , even as cigarette is removed out of his jewelled grip – forgotten had he the bitter smog to lift , evaporate within the wind , “ i was never given the chance to . i was never even given the chance to say – “ , crown sharply turns – until broad shoulders and suited back will face the higher seated figure . clearly – had the fool not have done such ; the overwhelming sense leaving the noose around own neck to tighten , cut off all remaining left unsaid – swallowing down – the rushing images flashing , in states of awakening as much as within realms of dreams to re – visit . sole consolation remains the breeze – soothing a burning sensation remaining within hues ; not triggered by the nicotine laced clouds , long gone . it lingers – alike ashes to blur sight and the closer prophecy unfolds by the explanation of other , do fists unconsciously clench , veins stretching against the skin visible despite hanging low and unoccupied next to a frame frozen alike carven statue .
“ sounds like a heavy description to carry . heavy , to fulfil . would you plant another for me – if i was to depart earlier ? made of opposites – then i shall continue to carry such . “ , it is the familiar , eternal surrender alongside existence – long made , long established . the acceptance of such utterly denied truth – always had been noticed and acknowledged within that bleeding heart of his to beat on quietly , slower – frame will turn on its heel to walk inside . his grand steinway , purposefully placed right next to the doors of grand balcony – curtains brushing the instrument’s smooth surface from time to time . wordlessly , does he perch himself onto the stool – and seconds pass in silence by a frame inheriting the eternally straight posture ; until it melts , until digits dance upon the monochrome keys and he lets go . liszt’s consolation – spilling with such frantic sentiment and yet gentle pace – that its force leaves the blonde – his back remaining turned towards the spot the other had seated himself in – to leave the wet stains on jagged face to simply flow ; to a singular drop dissolving upon palm .
THE AUREOLE bestowed on him by the soon to be slumbering sun is reduced to a milder glow , as puerile evening demands to overtake the celestial playground wherein the clustered glitter of distant constellations ought to come together in favour of leading home those who are lucky not to be strangers to the word. the skies are bleeding marvelous saturations of ruby now , epitomizing the romanticized highlight of the day's finale , much to his dismay —— if he could pin the sun on the horizon , if he could ensure this moment lasts longer , he would. nothing ever stops , though. the nicotine embellishment he had attained , too , begs to be freed out of the cage formed by two digits , lest the heat greets his ink-emblazoned flesh , kisses a foolish scar into the planes of gold there. ❝ the chance to say what ? ❞ belated is his cautiously expressed prompt , as midnight plagued orbs follow his companion's retreating silhouette , awaiting , before a melody imbues the castle with melancholy : thus , he chooses to turn away again , the breath he releases fragmented , as if it had been trapped in his chest for a while , knocking therefore impatiently at the gates of a pursed mouth. his exhale also bears the conclusive phantoms of smoke. he would not be very conscientious about littering if it were some unknown place , although considering the gardens bursting all tones of untainted life below would not appreciate the fiery guest , the boy diligently smothers the vestiges of the cigarette in the ashtray poised beside him , rather than simply throwing the rufescent shimmer off of the balcony. oh , how lovely it would be , to lay on the ground beneath , to be surrounded by prismatic petals , to sink in the earth , as opposed to battling the loaded emptiness devouring his ribcage at an alarming pace. ( l'appel du vide ) ; intrusive are his reveries. were he to decide on a sweep forth , to slide off the railing , he could grant his idealistic yearning for peace just like that. perhaps , the impact might have hurt less than the torment the act of listening to tony's composition embodies. he is not tired , nor had any airborne specks infiltrated his irises — the vignette of his vision is , nevertheless , invaded by a blurry lustre. it must be the wind , or the pernicious fumes , or —— he feels his throat dry up. swallows the knot down , deeply. it stays , gnawing at the inside. or , maybe both. the freckled rogue eventually attempts to get rid of the crystalline sheen by bringing the back of an aureate palm to his countenance , chafing the skin a bit too harshly until phosphenes caused by the friction gradually start manifesting in his view instead. the crimson blessings of the reversed dawn are fading , for seoul is to be cradled in moon's hold. hesitantly does he shift to face the grand clavier , finding it hard to take in the sight of great pathos. the scene shatters his crackled , vacant facade , for it is too ironic , too painful —— tony may have mourned the tragedy of beauty struggling to reside alongside the savagery of the monochrome world , yet , ——— yet he exists. he is ruinously beautiful. a soul so gentle , guarded by adamant walls he , himself , may never climb. ( a protective fort or prison ? ) how may he get through to someone whom had already drank out of the chalice of accepted fate ? oliver is quiet even as he abandons his impromptu throne , each step forward costing him tremendous courage , for he does not know anything , forced to improvise under the pressure of failing or worsening the hiraeth infected mood , if he so desires to sate the need to be of help. once he stands behind the seated figure , he merely watches , as equally moonstruck as he is anguished , unable to move despite wanting to. it is almost hypnotizing , the way the silken pads of the criminal's fingers caress the keys , as a desperately tender lover would , coaxing out sounds so , so terribly reminiscent of loss. tentatively , his hands rest atop the slope of tony's shoulders : a feathery touch at first , as he is uncertain whether to carry on or not , only for his arms to then slip lower till he encompasses him , his embrace as pitifully weak as his baritone , ❝ tony , ❞ a plea. it is hushed , strained , for he is humiliated , too startlingly aware he is not good at words , albeit the suffocating weight of witnessing the shorter in such a state devastates the usually unfazed immortal beyond remedy. ( what can he do ? what can he do for him ? ) ❝ 'm sorry , ❞ his wintery lips hide a repeatedly confessed mantra in the regalia of the male's locks as his own dips , dejected ; ❝ please. ❞ ( please , god , let him be enough. let him alleviate the other's ache. ) is he clinging on him as a subconscious means of self-consolation , to seek warm solace from the indescribable agony , or to be of comfort to him ? ❝ when night comes , . . . you won't be alone. not anymore. ❞ the dusk can be endured in the company of a cherished person. and the sun ? it may wither behind the mountains , albeit it shall rise tomorrow , too ; always luring them in by a bait of promising the mortal realm is worth suffering in , worth their martyrdom. is it , truly ?
*pushes you off a bridge* boop