desəˈkrāSH(ə)n

to treat with sacrilege. Multimuse. Multiship. Oc. NSFW. Selective.

[wontaec]

ʷʰᶦˢᵖᵉʳ

[desekrashen-blog]

Late night coffee shop stops had been Sanghyuk’s favorite thing to do since he hit puberty. There was something calming in the bitter smell and the cozy atmosphere that allowed him to forget just for a moment who he was. He could pretend he was normal, that he didn’t feel the sleek metal of a gun muzzle pressed against his spine. But regardless of how much he enjoyed it, he was never allowed to let his guard down... it was too dangerous for him. 

Long ago, when he was only eight, the young man had been taken by a group of men in all black, the flashes of red against white walls haunting his dreams for half a life time. There hadn’t been a reason initially for his abduction. At least none that made sense to the child. But he was kept as an errand boy, running things back and forth that no one would have thought to check him for as a child. But as he grew older, the more the leader began to realize something. 

There was another boy that was kept with them. He was able to boss Sanghyuk around and use him for his own needs. The son of the leader was just as cruel and vindictive as his father, if not more so and many of the scars that the youth possessed came from the boy that was his age. But once he was fourteen, Hyuk was taken under the leader’s wing and was groomed into being his son’s double. The two boys looked eerily similar and the captive began to wonder if this was what his life’s true purpose was. To be the tool in an evil circle of violence. 

Hyuk learned all of the weapons that he could, realizing that by being the son’s double, he was likely to be killed one day protecting the other that had a black soul. Even though he had been taken into such a cruel world, the boy tried his best to hold onto the faint memories of his youth and what little good he had left in him. But with every kill and every interaction he could feel parts of himself withering away every time. It was devastating but there was no way out. He would be found and killed. The limit on his life was short and he knew it, he knew that his time clock had been destined to be cut off short once he knew what he was to become. 

[justicesmith]

In a Heartbeat (2017)

[glassmoonfortuneteller]

This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen <3

[jicoco]

@shn-wxnho

[changkyuh-archive]

#happyhyukday

happy birthday to our beloved maknae, han sanghyuk!

[leerang]

Happy birthday, Hyuk ♡

[javjavi]

[darynberry-deactivated20170114]

[desekrashen-blog]

Ken: Ravi, you deserve an award for putting up with me.

Ravi: You are my award, Ken.

Hyuk: Leo, you deserve an award for putting up with me.

Leo: Hell yeah I do, you're a real bitch sometimes.

[vevovixx]

Savage Kitten stricks again. ฅචᆽචฅ

[positivedoodles]

[Drawing of a pink and white penguin holding a purple flower and saying “May this month be everything you want it to be.” in a blue speech bubble.]

[oh-teen-posts]

[staypozitive]

[staypozitive]

[desekrashen-blog]

Quiet, that was what he preferred. It gave him the stillness he desired to let his mind wander. As time progressed and years passed, it seemed as though Dorian let himself get trapped in his mind for longer periods of time than ever before. Memories... all of the memories would filter through and sometimes, he would wonder, just how he hadn’t gone insane just yet. The immortal wanted to remember everything from his past, but it would never be plausible or possible. It was why he carried so many trinkets to trigger the significant memories. A small part of him wondered if he had forgotten something or someone important along the way, especially in the beginnings when he had first started this journey of immortality. Perhaps it was why he was so very persistent on keeping things now and remembering. A part might have been missing and he never knew... so buried it was deep in the recesses of his mind. 

Sitting alone in his study, listening to the heavy ticking of the clock would drive any man mad. That was his conclusion and he was spiraling... it seemed to be about time too. Five centuries of living would do that to any man with a soul... Did he even have a soul? Yes... he was certain he had one. It made him wonder further then, did it have an expiration date? His body certainly hadn’t, but perhaps his soul was waning. It could explain why he was changing, no longer carefree to the whims of his mind and body as he once was. 

With his fingers pitched under his chin, he continued to search within himself, blinking only when his eyes burned. There had to be answers, he was searching for them... they had to be out there. And... and just maybe they lay at the fingertips of one man in particular. One being who lacked a soul, who lacked the mortality that Dorian himself felt he no longer possessed. Perhaps... perhaps... 

It was always a perhaps, a maybe, a what if... Blake warned him and told him over and over again, time after time to stop living in those moments, but Dorian felt he needed to ponder upon them. He needed to know, he couldn’t continue to stumble about his life so blindly without understanding. He felt... he felt as if he had finally found a purpose. One that would drive him to his end if he didn’t clearly comprehend what was going on. Blake had become his answer and his ending and it would never cease to terrify Dorian. 

How could it be... that a Demon, someone who was just like the source of his predicament, was what the mortal man sought? It confounded him to no end. It made no sense... That he would seek to live the rest of his life with one who could not even begin to love him. The word felt like a bitter slip of medicine on his tongue. Love was something so... destitute, so craved in this world... how could he ever deserve or create it? His time should have expired long ago along with his allowance of love and all of it’s thralling adventures. Yet... her he was, on the precipice... staring down at the bottom and there was nothing but Blake and his inevitable smile. 

It tore at Dorian, tore him from the inside out. There was no way around it, no way through it, no way over it. He was stuck... at a crux of his long, arduous life and... and yet he wanted nothing more than to stay. To feel those electrifying touches, to stop questioning, to just indulge as he had done his entire existence. He wanted to become a glutton, to drink all of the affection that was given to him and to feast on the attention provided. The feeling was like one he had never known before... exciting and terrifying. 

Maybe it was because... because Dorian knew if Blake chose it, they could truly last an eternity together. There would be no running away. There wouldn’t have to be an end... it could be an endless summer of hazy pleasure and kindred minds. But.... but it would grow old. It would wither and waste away and Dorian, the poor tender hearted immortal, wasn’t sure if he could stand that. Could he carry a love for someone who would never return the emotion for the rest of forever? Could he provide that... even a fraction of that to someone who could grow bored just like he has done time and time again in the past? 

Dorian felt... it was once impossible. But something... something wild and mystical about the Demon had imprinted on his soul and he was changed. He was different. No longer did he walk away without feeling the empty ache. No. It hurt... It made him weep at what he was giving up. All of the memories... all of the lives, it meant nothing if he couldn’t feel that warmth and security and it all made him feel pathetically weak and mortal. If Blake knew, if he only knew a fraction of his fragile soul... he would never stay. Dorian was irreparable. Too much time having past for it to heal properly. It was worth nothing, dusty and old like many of his possessions... a relic of the past that lay forgotten at the back of a cupboard. What would the Demon ever truly want with a mere mortal man who had nothing to offer but attention and companionship? It would become boring... maybe not immediately, but eventually... eventually it would. 

That was Dorian’s reasoning. His reason to keep running away and hiding, but he wasn’t sure his heart... his mind... his soul could take much more of it. Blake provided something for him that he hadn’t ever felt or comprehended before... So perhaps... perhaps even if the inevitability was there, it would be worth it when his existence was wiped away. At least he would have loved properly and fully... at least once.

[desekrashen-blog]

sakruhlij:

[...]

“ Vous êtes la créature la plus magnifique jamais mise sur cette terre “ Blake’s voice is a sultry whisper before his mouth merges with Dorian’s, the kiss immediately becoming heated as the Demon’s tongue slips past the immortal man’s lips, wanting to taste every corner of him once again, and the tantalizing fingers that were teasing at the man’s cock have now traveled lowered, thumb and index finger circling at the hilt that they stroke softly at while the rest of his fingers squeeze at the man’s sack, intending to get his cock to become full erected while Blake’s own growing  bulge inside his pants is pressed onto Dorian’s naked thigh, rubbed against the toned muscle in search of more friction, in hopes to make the foreplay last as long as possible so that their actual sex can be enjoyed by both of them for as long as possible.

Things had changed, for the better or worse Dorian would never know for sure but he definitely could feel it. The immortal man had once hated being pampered or adored in bed, preferring for carnal rough desires when he had come to realize his true nature. He had no consequences, nothing to hold him back from the rough pleasures in life and he had relished in it for centuries. But now, with his jeans sliding off and his body laid bare for the man above him, he could not imagine any other way to seek out his desires. Something with Blake had changed him, made him succumb to his basic need to be indulged and let every motion wash over him in crashing waves. That was what the Demon did for him, broke down his walls he had built so high and held so strong with a whirlwind of everything he had never known he needed. 

The feeling of his skin brushing against clothes had Dorian trembling, quaking for the touch of flesh instead, but he was indeed a patient man that could await his full pleasure just so he might taste Blake for a moment longer. The touch of Blake’s hand on his cheek had him sucking in a breath, keeping his breathing even as the fingertips trailed down his body and he was certain parts of his soul were marked by the touch. He could feel it, down to his very core, every stroke every lingering emotion that resided within himself. They all collected together, following the Demon’s fingers until they burst and slid through him as soon as he was touched and his eyes closed to see the burst of light behind his eyelids. It was electrifying, exciting, and intense. He had no intentions of closing his legs or trying to stop, rather he let himself lay more open and more prone for the man above than he ever had for anyone else before. 

Anything he was going to say got lost on the tip of his tongue, the feeling of lips on his own satisfying a part of his cravings. What was once lust driven now felt like a compulsion to savor and save every taste and every brush of their tongues together as one of his hands came to settle in the dark locks of Blake’s hair. Dorian was in no rush as the Demon’s hand catered to his length, teasing his sack which elicited a quiet groan of need from the cursed human. Every single touch was exciting and familiar, as if the other man had taken it upon himself to learn just what drove Dorian up the wall. His hips started to move shallowly, the thrusts small and slow in a tiny show of his wants as his toes curled. He felt the weight of Blake’s arousal against his thigh and wanted to tease him, wanted to let him wait until Dorian was completely gone and needy before he even touched him, but his desires were always too great and the sheer want to feel Blake moan against his lips always won out. 

With a steady hand, his palm came to curve over the bulge in the model’s pants, pressing against it slowly to give him more pressure and friction. Dorian gripped at the curve through the fabric, massaging just to give him enough of a taste of what they both know he could do before he started to make quick work of the buttons and zipper with his fingers. There was always something satisfying about letting his fingers dip past the cotton underwear to feel the heat of Blake’s body and arousal trapped in the clothes, a flutter of pride that yes, he Dorian Grey did that to the man who could make him lose all sense of control. 

[desekrashen-blog]

sakruhlij:

A some-what guilty chuckle spills from Alexander’s lips as Oberon is quick to caught onto his intentions, and the hand that reaches upon his face to help him tuck away his hair strands, delicately brushing over his skin, have him lowering his face to hide the flush taking over his face. “ Perhaps i am… “ The Vampire confesses while glancing up at the Faerie through his eyelashes, the pink of his tongue making a brief appearance as it brushes over his bottom lip. Alexander is always, and for ever, grateful for Oberon wanting to give him nothing but the best all the time, but at his propositions, the Vampire gently shakes his head, an apologetic smile blooming on his face as he hates rejecting the Faerie King pampers, but he had already planned an evening of his own.

“ Those are really good options, and i appreciate it but, “ Alexander’s head lowered once again, but this time it is to find Oberon’s hand, shy slim fingers slithering in between the man’s in a loose grip. “ i had already planned a little something. “ Pink is once again replacing the natural paleness of Alexander’s face, his gaze once again fixing on the man’s, and even though their golden color is almost gone, the memory of them, and the slightest chance that the color can return is enough to make him endure the heavy feeling that threatens with nesting on his stomach once again. “ Would you like to come back to my place? “

At the sound of the soft chuckle, Oberon’s fingers still in the soft hair of the Vampire, his gaze still gentle as he kept looking the man’s features over and over again. Perhaps he was looking for differences (he couldn’t find any) or trying to memorize his features for good (just in case). “I encourage you to continue my fair prince... It’s rather flattering that such a being as yourself would deem me worthy of your attentions.” Then he caught sight of the look Alexander gave him and everything went into overdrive. It was alluring, beautiful... and every single inch of the faerie was attracted to the man he courted so very long ago. Even if he tried to forget, bury those memories deep, his heart and body never could. It amazed him that he was still madly in love with the man and would give him anything he desired, even go so far as to relinquish his throne and become an ordinary human. Oberon just wanted to show Alexander how much he meant to him, no matter the expense or cost. 

“But?” The word hands between them for a moment and Oberon’s heart lurches in flickering terror until he feels cool fingers slipping between his own. They actually felt warm, the ice in his veins making him colder than the vampire now, but he refused to think on it. “Oh... oh thank Gaia. I thought perhaps you didn’t wish to...” Which made no sense in the slightest. Alexander had just proposed the date himself, but some part of the Faerie king still expected constant rejection from the other. It was in that moment that he nearly missed the next words, but he stopped his thoughts and blinked. It made him want to laugh, but he held it in, opting to offer a bright, shining smile instead. “Of course I want to... I mean I would love to. I haven’t seen it yet, have I?”

[desekrashen-blog]

sakruhlij:

The sheepish and adorable expression on Sylar’s face was enough to have Oliver smiling in a goofy manner. The Vampire lived to make the man happy, he’d realized about that pretty much on their first encounter, Oliver existed only to please and make Sylar happy; granted that his instincts had gotten some-what in the way, but they have managed to stay together, and more important, to make it work with what they had and what they were now. “ As long as they’re in some way useful for you, i’ll feel accomplished. “ He admitted, his gentle expression however soon shifted to one of expectation when the undead’s attention was set upon the last ( and more meaningful ) gift. “ Don’t ‘really’ me, baby. Just accept it. “ Oliver was halfway climbing onto the small table now, his gaze bouncing between the box on the man’s hands and his features, and by the time Sylar opened the box there was already the biggest of Oliver’s smiles plastered on his face, one that didn’t last long thanks to the playful words spoken by the birthday boy, that made the Vampire burst into a fit of laughter, an amused sound that chimed over their heads. “ ‘m not even gonna complain about that, “ Oliver spoke between chuckles, shaking his head “ that’s one of the best things anyone has ever called me. “ He cleared at his throat afterwards, regaining his composure in a second and his gaze fixed on the golden letter, a sudden flip being made by his stomach. “ You don’t have to wear it, “ He mumbled rather softly. “ i know you’re mine as much as i’m yours. But i just… “ His phrase becoming unfinished as he bit onto his lower lip, a hand reaching behind his neck to rub on his nape. “ you know how much i like the thought of you being just mine. “

A rush of affection was coursing through the undead man’s veins and it couldn’t be helped. It was as if everything little thing Oliver did or said went straight through him, right to his heart and he could possibly feel the ache in his chest of it wanting to desperately beat again, just for him. Somehow, deep inside, Sylar knew either way he would have given up his mortality for the vampire, by either giving his soul to the demons to become one of them just to spend his eternity with Oliver. “They’ll be of use, I promise...” A smile still curled at Sylar’s lips as he shook his head slightly. He could see the excitement in the other man’s actions and the way his eyes lit up. His reaction had been appropriate, and the sound of the laughter from his partner made his chest swell with pride. It was such a beautiful sound to him. “Of course you would think it is, and it’s absolutely true.” He snickers softly before he moves to start to put the chain on his neck. The gold was cold, but it barely registered against his cool skin as he worked to latch it together with a quiet huff. “I’m going to wear it, I want to. I’m always yours, there’s nothing that will ever change that.” There was certainty in his tone and when it finally hooked together, there was a moment of triumph and relief on Sylar’s face as he straightened it so that the ornate O dangled just at the base of his throat. “How does it look? Does it suit me?” He turned his head slightly, baring the length of his neck in the process as a coy smile pressed at his lips when he put himself on display for the other.