the malice

choke them on the ashes of the dreams they burned down.

[naileadevoras]

[k-wame]

-I insulted her. Or him. At this point, I'm not even sure it's a girl. Prisma (TV Series 2022-) · S1·E07

[machiavelli]

Lorenzo Zurzolo for Gucci˙✩°🪷⋆｡˚☆

[connorlang]

Connor merely picked up the french fry that had landed on his chest and popped it into his mouth. There would never be wasted food around him. Not if he had anything to say about it. "Lupercalia is a waste of time? You mean to tell me you're not interested in throwing your hat in the ring? You and your noodle arms could win alpha, I'm sure of it." He looked around the empty Waffle House and then back at Carmine. "My cousin told me I should've done it, but I thought probably not."

[carmineverga]

"I'm not really interested in leading them," he was very careful with his words; many who were not such prominent figures within Lupercal were often at the mercy of Jonas, Napoleon, and Carmine's fun. The Malice had never officially been apart of the pack, that was certainly where the Verga family's demise had began; a small motley of wolves guarding a den of vampires, it was their weakness. Carmine only became stronger through each lycan heart consumed, he wasn't interesting in being their friend nor their leader. "I'd love to know why they thought you'd lead this place to victory," a lazy grin spread; it wasn't anything personal to Connor, the Malice merely thought this shitshow of a community was hopeless.

[napoleonriot]

Slow, languid strokes brought Napoleon's open-mouthed and toothy grin inches from Carmine's as he breathed in the moan that the volatile passed from his lips. Drawn up through hot air and threaded desire, Napoleon tucked it away within his ribcage to be tasted and dissolved later on. Sequestered away with his undying appetite, Napoleon savored the taste of Carmine's resolve, smoothed across the tarmac of his tongue. He pulled with greater intention and tandem, friction the second most prominent source of warmth between them, the first being the steady thrum of the volatile's broiled heart.

In the warm, tepid air of the blanketed windows, the air had grown stifling. Lust drew a scent of its own and it permeated the space around them as the late afternoon sun did nothing to hide the breadth of their sins. Napoleon preferred to let it linger, he liked the thought that so much finery could still reek of sin, and that whether from debauchery or hedonism, every inch of this estate had been claimed by the Valter.

"Again." Napoleon urged, his teeth bumped against Carmine's as he knocked their foreheads together. The sheen of sweat that had blanketed his back had dried now to a cool air, cast adrift along the plains of his spine, the divets of his back and the blonde small hairs that bristled at the nape of his neck. He'd hear that devotion over and over again from Napoleon's blown-out lips and ravaged mouth. Until there was nothing between them but skin, seed, and the electricity that pulsed under the fascia that decorated the violent wolves wrestling underneath.

[carmineverga]

A sweated palm wrought friction as Napoleon tugged and pulled, a firm grip which allowed each whisper of a pulled moan to be drawn from the Verga volatile. The rays of sun hit the small of Napoleon's back, it shone brightly into the stark bluish green of the Malice's gaze, Carmine's own claws gritting into the slope of Napoleon's collarbone, the edge of his ribcage. Two hands, claws digging slightly deeper as the Riot brought the Malice closer to the edge. That sliver of violence remained, no matter how indelible, though Carmine's chest rose and fall with each intentioned stroke from the other, that typical glare of Carmine's spliced with this enthralled devotion to Napoleon as he was quite literally in the palm of the Riot's hand.

His teeth bumped against Carmine's and the volatile cursed, that warm feeling that pooled within his gut hard to ignore as his words fell into the crook of the Riot's mouth. Something of a whimper, spliced with a, "Fuck," as Carmine spilled between them, back curved as Napoleon sent him over such precipice, still swollen lips capturing the Riot's lips. Less vigor was packed behind the sloppy kiss, his chest rising and falling as his seed fell upon his own abdomen, spilled over Napoleon's enclosed hand. Carmine's hand fell to grip Napoleon's wrist, cock bloomed and sensitive to each lingering touch.

[eleanorxvalter]

Words of decline had been spoken, before Carmine had sat all the same; good boy. For a moment, she had simply moved to study him. To see if she could understand what Napoleon saw in this other one. A volatile, of course; which did indeed work in Carmine's favor. But he looked rather malnourished, a little sickly, if she were to be honest. Perhaps that was indeed her brother's type. "You don't like me, do you?" A smile had stretched her lips all the same, though there was hardly any warmth behind it. No, Eleanor hadn't initiated this talk for pleasantries.

[carmineverga]

An odd stalemate formed as silently Eleanor's eyes peered over Carmine; it seemed to be this look over that was personal to the Valter clan, as though scanning for faults and weaknesses. Napoleon had done the same to him once before and a smile cracked open upon Eleanor's face after the longest pause. The Malice returned the smile, though dead eyes only stared back at the blonde, "Does that bother you?" It really shouldn't, Carmine's list of people he liked was a bare minimum, his dislike of others was never anything personal.

[napoleonriot]

And I hold you every night That's a feeling I wanna get used to But there's no man as terrified As the man who stands to lose you

w. @carmineverga & w. @xjonasx

[arcanespillo-deactivated2025080]

EO (2022) Directed by Jerzy Skolimowski

[napoleonriot]

Napoleon's hand slipped over the other as he ran his thumb over the crown, grip affirmed as he leaned a languid frame across Carmine's body. The lycan's green eyes twinkled faintly in the low light that filtered from the fading late afternoon sun. His grin was wolfish and bright, Napoleon's lips passed over Carmine's as his grip tightened, and he reveled in the warm feeling of the volatile's body beneath him. Napolone had always been wild and liberated, there never felt like there was anything holding him back. He'd been doted on because he was strong, careless, and ruthlessly devoted to his ego and sense of self. To be a Valter meant the world revolved around you, volatile blood pumped through his veins and his heart ran as rampant as the tepid strokes of his grip.

"Say it again." Napoleon insisted, his legs threaded through the other's, still clothed as he folded the fingers of his free hand through Carmine's hair and brushed their noses together. It wasn't a point of being worshipped, no, that was for hired help and servants. Carmine wanted him, and Napoleon was the other's everything: that wasn't just enough, that was everything to him.

[carmineverga]

A sigh fell from the Malice as hips instinctively rolled forth into the feeling of Napoleon's grip around him. A parallel voracity met in the middle, spliced between two volatiles, as green eyes bore into Carmine's; an instinctual recognition found within the grins painted upon each others lips. Napoleon was everything to him, it was as simple and devastating as that. The Riot pulled at the length of Carmine and it was as though each stroke wrought the culmination of such confession to bleed from his mouth again and again. What was everything to a creature who had nothing? His life had been splintered and pulled apart, each ounce of love and care scoured away from it until Carmine was left with the scathing loneliness only a monster could nurture. It was what he'd become, a monstrosity, something hellbent on destruction and it was under the very rampage of such deliberate destruction that he'd met Napoleon, fell to the mercy of him.

Carmine had been cracked open before, a child who was unprepared to have everything he'd ever known be destroyed; it hurt to become and yet somehow, as Napoleon cracked the other open again and again, Carmine found a sense of comfort deep within such confines. Napoleon was a mirror, sure, but he was also a violent legacy, a palpable influence upon this world; he'd set fire to it all to see Carmine smile and it was in that that the other volatile had become everything to him. "Everything," uttered uncharacteristically soft, the words were wedged between them, exhaled within a breadth of a moan. "You're everything."

[arcanespillo-deactivated2025080]

Lorenzo Zurzolo in Morrison (2021)

[arcanespillo-deactivated2025080]

Lorenzo Zurzolo, La Storia (2024)

[romeoverga]

Escaping his fate like he did was more based on luck than talent. Having escaped the flood and settling in Rome, practically adopted into his pack, Romeo got lucky, seriously lucky. He'd cared for his brother, more than anything else, even power, and now things had spiraled out of control. The Lycan wondered if their relationship could ever be repaired. "So you took it upon yourself to take revenge?" Romeo had been the one to avoid Sicily ever since, unable to see if their parents had been buried or not, if his brother had been with their parents all along or not. Turned out he wasn't. He still remembered the young boy, the boy who he remembered rather than the man he saw in front of him. A big brother complex, he still wanted to protect Carmine from the cruelties of this world. He hadn't, couldn't.

"You've changed, you're not the boy I remember you to be, so yes, even I underestimated you." He'd never do so again, "I'm sorry about what happened, I should've killed him when I had the chance, strike first instead of them." Should've, could've, he hadn't. "Rome's my home now, we can work together, brother," he was trying to reach out to the man, find a common goal before things would spiral out of control, "it should be yours as well."

[carmineverga]

"Well, I was a coward before; helpless," a silent child who gravitated towards being a wallflower, each violent missive their father undertook, and each wrathful trait Romeo adopted, Carmine had bore witness to it all but never spoke much to show of what he'd been privy to. Iron Fangs, the Beast; two men in the Verga family who both adopted a carapace of truculence, Carmine once figured it'd be different for him, but a wolf could not shed their skin as the Fates nearly intervened and willed it so. The Malice had been born the night their parents had been taken away, mottled with silver chains; a boy wrought from the trauma of seeing all he'd ever known being stripped away from him. Perhaps Carmine hadn't been able to save them, but as each vampire was torn apart, fangs plucked from their undead mouths, it served as recompense for a feeling of family and security he'd never know again.

Napoleon and Jonas were the closest thing he'd come to discover to the feeling yet, but it hadn't sewn this hollow emptiness within him, hadn't restructured the gap that seemed limitless; this veil between some sense of normal living and this violent apparition he'd become. Carmine grimaced, with Romeo in the city, with the knowledge that this was his home it changed things; it wouldn't change the Malice's missive, it only meant he'd serve to be more careful. "Don't tell me you're apart of that heap of dogs that call themself a pack," crueler than Romeo likely remembered, the backhanded question slipped from his lips before Carmine could help himself.

[eleanorxvalter]

where. waffle house who. @carmineverga

There was no sight of her brother, and in that particular moment, was precisely what Eleanor wanted. She hadn't come for him. Instead, she had come for his little toy... turned seemingly something else entirely. So she had waited, shooed away any of the other patrons or workers that gravitated to her table. Until she caught sight of the other, a smile gentle at the edges of her lips, "Carmine, darling. Won't you come join me?"

[carmineverga]

Coffee server in his hand, the volatile quirked a brow at Eleanor. Napoleon was the Malice's family out of whatever trauma bond they'd created, and though he'd come to know Eleanor and the rest of them, he never quite considered them on the same caliber; always aloof towards them, a veil of indifference. "I'm working," despite his words, the Malice set the hot server down upon the table and sat in the empty booth opposite of her; Carmine knew better than to decline what a Valter requested.

[napoleonriot]

Carmine's tongue tasted like Napoleon's violent seed, washed together, the volatiles's tongues tangled together as Napoleon pulled the other flush against him. "I love waking up to you," Napoleon said as he ran his fingers through Carmine's hair, a firm hand at the side of the lycan's head as he looked at the man's dark eyes with his own. There was so much violence in them, and so much hatred. Carmine had all this passion and all this anger, Napoleon just thought it was delicious. Something that he could distil from the other and somehow take in for himself, he wanted Carmine to get everything he ever wanted: vengeance, blood, money, whatever it was Napoleon didn't care. He just wanted to ensure that they were standing on the mountain together when Carmine reached the summit. "Take your pants off."

[carmineverga]

Something spliced with both affection and possessiveness, the Riot pulled Carmine flush against his limber frame, swollen lips breaking into that casual smile the Malice so often expressed. "You're everything to me," vulnerable words fell from him, and perhaps it was the haze of having his face utterly crackled and blown, eyes still teary, but the smile broke open a little wider at the confession, Carmine hardly hesitating at the request. His hands fell as the volatile slipped his aching cock from the confines of his pants, one hand rolling over the base of it in a quick stroke as though it would quell his wanton and impatience for even a moment. Once a toy for the Valter, even here pliant beneath him, Carmine never felt so powerful; heady and drunk off the idea that with Napoleon there was nothing they couldn't quite conquer.

[xjonasx]

ψæψ

The best way to play one of Napoleon's games was to be in it for yourself. Jonas learned that quickly because it was exactly what Napoleon did. Vicious and indulgent was their way, a life of hedonism was meant to be enjoyed. They were the only place in the world left where Jonas could feel normal, which was why he knew exactly how to enjoy both his boys. "Next time, make smarter bets," he teases, chuckling as he lets his tongue roll over Carmine's until they kiss. It may have been the last bit of tenderness he gave though, because his idea was one that was clearly selfish in nature. Jonas pulls away to lean over and let his hand snake up Napoleon's body straight to his adorable head of hair. He was learning quickly how to take. "Give him a number," he says plainly to Napoleon, though his smirk was quite wicked. "That's how many knots Carmine has to take. You and I will have to work together to get him there though. However long it takes, it's a party."

@napoleonriot

[napoleonriot]

Napoleon's tongue tangled with Jonas's as the draegloth united their mouths. From his perch on the bar, the volatile had to bend towards Jonas, though the kiss was more of a smile than any torrid exchange. Napoleon grinned almost ear to ear before the shots were slid along the bar towards them. "One for you," Napoleon said as he passed one off to Jonas, "one for me." Napoleon downed it without much of a second thought; the third was predictable. "One for the good sport." His hand closed on Carmine's shoulder, his grip a bit tight but still playful as he pulled him in and turned the lycan around so he could face Jonas. Napoleon's green eyes sparkled under the torrent of the neons, his forearm moved across Carmine's chest, and the shot came to the other volatile's lips. Napoleon just looked at Jonas, though; mischief oozed off of him; this was what the lycan lived for. Carmine sandwiched between them; this was how it should always be. Shots emptied on the bar, Napoleon kept his hands on Carmine, one across his chest, the other over his abdomen. Affectionate and possessive all at once. "What's that make? Three? That's not enough, is it?" Words were spoken against the curve of Carmine's neck, though he had kept his green eyes fixed on Jonas until now. Now they clicked towards the edge of Carmine's jaw, "Especially since it's Christmas."

@carmineverga

[carmineverga]

Carmine often thrived at being some petulant spoil sport, a defiant edge as though he'd deny the mutual enjoyment which came from their shared indulgence. It never took long for the Malice to buckle in the face of Napoleon and Jonas, but he understood, plainly, that a little bite was often what the two also savored. Practically weightless, Carmine was playfully and raucously pushed and pulled between the two, once entangled possessively before Jonas, Napoleon immediately shifted the edge of power further away from Carmine as the volatile was positioned between the two. Before he could utter some empty complaint, the shot was tipped to his lips and Carmine tilted his head bag, shaggy hair brushing across Napoleon's cheekbones as the liquor went down his throat. A soured face was the only result, but it transitioned to a toying grin as though Carmine could best the two he adored the most, a willing prey before them, "I thought you already gave me my gift, Napoleon." Words held a biting edge as though that would triumph for the Malice, a lazy grin produced as his shoulders rolled into a soft shrug. "You're very giving this Christmas."

@xjonasx

[xjonasx]

ψæψ

No matter what, Carmine was leaving this party smelling of Jonas and no other. Napoleon wouldn't be able to try and take the accolade from him anyway, because Jonas would just make both his volatiles drip with his scent tonight. Problem solved, but he'd have to finish up Carmine first. "Yeah, you're wound up tight," he pointed out bluntly, sensing Carmine's tension the moment they locked into an embrace. "Maybe there'll be someone to hunt. I came, so no need to be careful." Jonas didn't care about rules or politics. Anyone who laid a hand on his boys was dead, no discussion. "I got your back, but I'm still not going to let anyone talk to you." Where their skin touched felt hot as fire but burned in a good way. Carmine's warmth was distinctly different from Napoleon's, but he craved it just as much. Jonas pulled Carmine even tighter into his body, growling from the sensation. "That's right, I'm the best distraction. Give me all your attention."

[carmineverga]

Carmine never appreciated being called out, no matter how often Jonas, and Napoleon, could effortlessly read the Malice. A scowl almost fell from his lips, but they cracked, instead, into an eerie smile at Jonas' subtle permission to do as he pleased; not that Carmine needed the push. He'd attempted, in some lengths, to go under the radar; no maiming in Rome, but what was one night under the disguise of a vampire party? It only served to inflame this silent war of vampires and lycans, something Carmine would be happy to oblige in. "When did you become my bodyguard?" Venomously jested, that empty smile cracked further as though imbued with a sliver of fondness for the draegloth. Carmine turned to face Jonas completely, this wall of muscle that would serve to hopefully drown his mind away from the vampires that swarmed every corner and crevice of the castle, "I think a hunt is just what I need, come on." Carmine walked backwards to pull the other into the amassed throng of people.

[fassylovergallery]

SUGGESTIONS #383: Lorenzo Zurzolo