shade.

minimal writing blog. side.

[gildedweapon]

"Bang! Gotcha!" "Right through this demon's heart."

[dethvoid]

i think Dark wouldn't like vampires for the sole reason of 'oh you're being a little pissy because you can't go out in the sun? i can't even enter walmart'

[chinzhilla-archive]

🎶 he was a boy, it was a semi-corporeal smoke entity of dubious origins and intentions, can i make it any more obvious 🎶

[endocathexis]

A. Hering’s Death and the Maiden - edit, version 2 & 3

v. 1

[lifeinpoetry]

Lux

Maybe we should stop         telling stories     of how the light heals and start talking        how much it hurts    when you’re outside:                              every drop     of sunbeam     sinking

into          your                    skin                               and​

                                       gutting     [you]                                                     from                                                     the                                                     (inside).

— Saquina Karla C. Guiam, published in Honey & Lime

[lifeinpoetry]

“i’m / looking at you, / shadows painting / skull-sockets like war paint / and eyes that want / to swallow the world / as how the void / wants to swallow you.”

— Quinn Lui, from “how the world ends,” published in Bone & Ink Press

[scandalousladysuggestion]

I’m in my “imprisoned in the Tower” era.

[pwesident]

listen bro we love hanging out with you but your incorporeal nature is really making it hard to pass you the bong

[boyboobs]

i promise it wont slip through my form as you hand it to me i promise

[slogthor]

[dethvoid]

@gildedweapon

Lethiferous girl, cascading golds and greens; a nigh fragile bubble for the gleaming, molten silver that bursts with a spark. A herald. A pale rider. She breathes gun smoke, speaks flowers. Thorns ‘twould rupture and choke, do not; rust ‘twould corrode, does not. Heart full of cogs, down to the gun grease flowing therein, it all comes to a still for moment. For a chance. To be reflected in those garnets embedded in obsidian.

For he sees her as she sees him. The veracity 'twixt them. Organic and non. Tangible and not. Adored. Loved.

Always.

Gelastic, velvet lips that press such tender chasteness, 'twould wound even the greatest warrior. Akin to a phoenix, she dies and is reborn from each touch, each glance, each syllable that tumbles forth from his throat. Long has she sensed him, that chilled-warmth. (Heretofore) Long where the days of sitting in his shades, shadows; anything and all, just for a chance, a moment. Such as this.

Silvery voice hitches, a small shiver down her spine from his mark, ❝ D-Dark! ❞ Jovial whispered exclamation, elation rises as does she, w-well of sorts. To half turn, throw her lithe body 'gainst his in hug to squeeze perhaps the life out of him. Head cants to let the last rays of the sun be blocked by her locks. Safety. Here in her arms, he always would be. Would he not?

Kismet.

Pallid hand raises to cup his cheek, run her slender thumb along the angular jawline that she too presses a saccharine kiss to; bullseye. ❝ I-I have not been here, ehm, too long. ❞ Since noon. Filled with dreading greens and swirling greys, stomach doing strange flips like what Dante did with the batter on the stove in the mornings.

She bites her lower lip, eyes full of his image alone, ❝ Hello, the one I cherish the most. ❞ Another whisper, afraid of the world to shatter this moment. Afraid this was another idyllic dreaming of the day. ❝ D-Did you miss me? I missed you. Ached for you. I-I am sorry for making you wait…❞

His name is but a song on her lips; euphonious voice which rises above the common noise from below. The bustling streets of the city has left them secluded in plain sight. Ivory takes his name in her mouth with her hand on his heart, as if a precious thing, to be kept secret in this meeting of lovers. A power that leaves him sundered.

The name she speaks has belonged to him for mere years, mere raindrops collecting in the well of his lifetime. Oh, but when she speaks it, she cherishes every letter on her tongue. A sweet sound, in every pronunciation. When Ivory says his name, does it truly feel as his.

Yet the shadow cannot help but let a laugh fall from his lips as she leaps to throw her arms around him. An eager embrace, messy and contagious, as limbs cross and they behold one another. Parting his legs just so to give her room in between, he holds her just as close as she does, spite the rays undoing the flesh of his limb. 

To see Ivory in the final parting of the sun, a rare image, how she looks in all manners of the daytime remains unbeknownst to him. Violet light outlines her soft features. He can’t help but mimic, pressing the palm of his hand to her cheek. To remember a sight such as her; divine in flesh and steel, glinting like gunmetal. 

A kiss like a bullet, for her lips are gone too soon.  Dark longs for more by the time she pulls away. He wants her to drown him in them. 

❝ Hello, ❞  A repetition of her phrase,  ❝ one I have longed for the most, the one whom I counted the hours for. The one who owes me no apologies, because the fault is all mine.  ❞ as the demon speaks he begins to lean forward into her. Close enough to have their lips ghost each other’s.

               ❝ How beautiful you look in this light. ❞

[gildedweapon]

Jovial is she, laughter on her tongue that is akin to soft chimes kissed by zephyrs. Her own words back at her, she cannot help but find such humor and wonderous delight in it. Sheer brilliance that cascades like a multitude of rainbows as if a diamond 'twere being alit from within is what she sees. Gilded edges. This harmonious, loving feeling.

Rosy-cheeked like a babe to the world, such a thing is not far off from the truth, she shakes her head gently as if to chide him. She is ever so charmed by him. He could ask her to steal away into his shadows, be embraced by his form as trench coat enveloped her and she sunk into his darkness-And she would. He could-And would-ask of her to be remarked in that ancient way of his, to be reminded, to be certain down to the marrow and gun grease, to the cogged heart and to even the luminous soul within that crackled like jolted fire: that she were his, as he was hers.

And she would.

She simpers, roseate lips parting as if to speak yet leaning into that half-gloved hand (barricaded once more from that palm she sought), ❝ P-Perhaps I did poor protection, the sun fried your eyes. ❞ She teases, chuckling softly but the way he spoke about her bore it’s veracity as her cheeks deepened with dusted hues of cerise and vermillion.

She wish he’d say it again. Say how he sees her. Truly. As she saw him. Perpetually lost in those garnets embedded in onyx, to those exquisite eyes she adored, cherished; loved. It was in them she saw him. Past the porcelain mask. The smirking façade. An iron veil she plucked away easily with lithe, adroit fingers to rain a bullet storm of fervent kisses.

His breath on her skin suddenly makes her aware of how close they are. This desideratum 'twixt them. A mere gap, she has all but to lean forward slightly and velvet 'would melt with satin.

❝Still, you are very, ehm, h-handsome in this light as well. Do you know? ❞ A query she expects no answer to but means all the same. ❝ These that I adore, ❞ Her thumb brushes carefully by his eye, ❝ They sparkle different in such a way it takes my breath away. ❞ You take my breath away. ❝ T-To draw me closer… ❞

And she means it. Will-o-wisp. Light in the dark. Enchants her to follow thereafter, to drown in him and his sunless grace. Feathery, obsidian that oft felt like chilled waters (but never for her, warm; always warm). She kisses him; a kind of kiss that shames the eternity statue in all her perennial luster, velvet on satin, and the ache in her heart soars like Griffon. The swelling of her cogged heart that catches in her throat like a crown of thorns. A surge of storms that pierced her belly. Now all stills, quiets. There is the taste of him she longed for, sweetly demands more of. A deep, deep longing and sigh of relief.

Home.

❝ I love you. ❞

She was home.

[dethvoid]

His thumb strokes against the soft of her cheek; slow rhythm of tenderness and appreciation of a lover. The shadow watches with quiet admiration, and holds onto the image of Ivory laughing---The sun behind her now a figment in its own sky. The setting orange makes for a halo upon her head, bleeding hues unto aureate and emerald. An eternity trapped within the tower of the traitor's design could not have prepared him for this moment. His own physicality wavers by the dividing light, but lo' the shade wishes (no, he will) to hold upon this sight for how long as his consciousness continues between realms both tangible and immaterial.

❝ Ah, are you calling me a liar, by chance? ❞

He feigns hurt; eyes crinkling while he tries and fails to stifle the smile working away the ends of his lips. He would take her away with him if he could, to the life away from the light ruled by the sun, to hide them away perpetually in the darkness. His, all his. Forevermore.

No doubt though, the devil hunter would interfere. A shadow remains tied to its shape. It must follow, yet he would be forever bonded to the herald of death within his right hand.

❝ Because I see you clearly. Quam pulchra es. ❞

The final words ( you are beautiful ), linger above just a murmur; sweet as her laughter caught by the wind, gentle as the way she smiles at him. One so young to the world, yet so full of life, full of wisdom.

The wish to bring themselves closer is fulfilled by her alone. Whilst she searches the edges between his eyes. Onyx and crimson look back at her with quiet happiness, almost reserved, as they crinkle by the edges. Verdurous eyes, what do you spy? Past this mask of flesh and meat, this familiar yet stranger gaze of his; his true face is faceless yet she sees him with the mastery of a huntress' mark.

He knows who she is truly seeing, and it's not this masquerade of posing as a man.

❝ They do now? ❞ Satisfaction attempts to suppress his elation, ❝ Though, surely, they only reflect what they are seeing. Yours are the true source of their light. ❞ Beacon amidst darkness, the soft ebb of crystalline grace which reaches unto the cavernous abyss and returns unscathed. She calls and he answers, as the moon does for the sun. An endless pursuit, but unlike the beings of the heavens above they are lucky enough to have one another to hold.

Heeding her wish, as she moves closer the hand he had kept upon her cheek brushes upwards, tucking blonde behind her ear. They kiss. A kiss of lovers intertwined; it shakes the foundations of what he is (a mere shade, devil shortly following after ). No heart to beat, yet something wakens as he tastes her, sweetened apple and light gunpowder. It thunders within him; more than needs or wants---Closer to what he has heard the Hunter speak of when mentions love.

Love.

Few devils would admit to the emotion, never him.

❝ I love you. ❞ The words stumble nigh in sync to the time she speaks.

Home, he's home too.

The shade pulls her gently into his embrace, jacket akin to the descending nightfall swathes over her form. In gentle silence they rest, until the sky melts from purple to blue to black does the shadow speak once more.

❝ The sun has set. Do you wish to remain here? ❞

Oh, he wishes to take her. To escape with her in his arms as of now. But he would never deprive Ivory of choice.

[dethvoid]

me reading aya's beautiful writing and looking at her stunning work in ffxiv

[gildedweapon]

' And no one shall have you. For you are mine. '

[gildedweapon]

To attend The Demon's Ball

[dethvoid]

From @gildedweapon / @cerisewaves

Indescribable, this feeling. This pull. Nay, this t u g. Like the currents of an undertow. Taught and dripping, encrusted garnets; threaded line that has her by the wrists, ankles, spun ov'r her pallid body-To him. Exigent is this.

Perpetual is this.

For one as she to slink away from The Shop, sun warming her back as if to call her away from the chill of shadowed corners. Of chain-link fences and broken glass. Of skittering creatures that no doubt knew better of what truly crouched 'fore them.

To the alleyway, then. Where light dips into darkness, melts into it just as much as she wished she could right now. Her cogged heart aches. Yearns.

She is reminded of swiss cheese.

"I miss you..." She whispers all around her, knowing, hoping, he'd hear her this time. Slowly, she slumps 'gainst the graffitied wall as if 'twere him.

Knowing, hoping.

He has been here the entire time; a ghost keeping his haunt in the city so named Redgrave. It’s his now, not only the devil hunter who only really owns his ruins of a shop. His doppelgänger instead ventures to the seedier streets; the alleys, the off-beaten path of urban environment. 

He knows the graffiti by heart without understanding most of it. 

The newest one sits upon the intersection of two alleys leading to one; two forms synonymous with human bodies clinging to one another. It’s distinct amongst the rest, depicting devils and violence; their odes to complaint and plea. 

This isn’t the alleyway, but he’s reminded of it with every inch closer she comes.

Unto the gates of the unfathomable. His endless darkness.

Where her whisper is a feather on the surface water, gentle upon the surface, however creating ripples where it sought to flow. 

The shadow crawling upon dried paint and moss over the wall comes alive from behind, clinging to her waist, along her cheek, over her lips-----with the shudder of his ache for her, (no, let him correct himself: an ache implies he could go on without. Ivory is a must, a need). 

He comes alive with it, with the gentle embrace of her where once was only brick and tar. 

 The shade speaks:  ❝ Please stay with me here. ❞

In the dark, where light meets shadow---Upon the brink of human and demon world.

Anywhere, all he asks is to be together with her.

[gildedweapon]

'Always'

[gildedweapon]

'W-What's a kiss...?'

'Something sweet. Do you want one?'

'--...Y-Yes.'

[gildedweapon]

If you be my star / I'll be your sky

[dethvoid]

@gildedweapon

Lethiferous girl, cascading golds and greens; a nigh fragile bubble for the gleaming, molten silver that bursts with a spark. A herald. A pale rider. She breathes gun smoke, speaks flowers. Thorns 'twould rupture and choke, do not; rust 'twould corrode, does not. Heart full of cogs, down to the gun grease flowing therein, it all comes to a still for moment. For a chance. To be reflected in those garnets embedded in obsidian.

For he sees her as she sees him. The veracity 'twixt them. Organic and non. Tangible and not. Adored. Loved.

Always.

Gelastic, velvet lips that press such tender chasteness, 'twould wound even the greatest warrior. Akin to a phoenix, she dies and is reborn from each touch, each glance, each syllable that tumbles forth from his throat. Long has she sensed him, that chilled-warmth. (Heretofore) Long where the days of sitting in his shades, shadows; anything and all, just for a chance, a moment. Such as this.

Silvery voice hitches, a small shiver down her spine from his mark, ❝ D-Dark! ❞ Jovial whispered exclamation, elation rises as does she, w-well of sorts. To half turn, throw her lithe body 'gainst his in hug to squeeze perhaps the life out of him. Head cants to let the last rays of the sun be blocked by her locks. Safety. Here in her arms, he always would be. Would he not?

Kismet.

Pallid hand raises to cup his cheek, run her slender thumb along the angular jawline that she too presses a saccharine kiss to; bullseye. ❝ I-I have not been here, ehm, too long. ❞ Since noon. Filled with dreading greens and swirling greys, stomach doing strange flips like what Dante did with the batter on the stove in the mornings.

She bites her lower lip, eyes full of his image alone, ❝ Hello, the one I cherish the most. ❞ Another whisper, afraid of the world to shatter this moment. Afraid this was another idyllic dreaming of the day. ❝ D-Did you miss me? I missed you. Ached for you. I-I am sorry for making you wait...❞

His name is but a song on her lips; euphonious voice which rises above the common noise from below. The bustling streets of the city has left them secluded in plain sight. Ivory takes his name in her mouth with her hand on his heart, as if a precious thing, to be kept secret in this meeting of lovers. A power that leaves him sundered.

The name she speaks has belonged to him for mere years, mere raindrops collecting in the well of his lifetime. Oh, but when she speaks it, she cherishes every letter on her tongue. A sweet sound, in every pronunciation. When Ivory says his name, does it truly feel as his.

Yet the shadow cannot help but let a laugh fall from his lips as she leaps to throw her arms around him. An eager embrace, messy and contagious, as limbs cross and they behold one another. Parting his legs just so to give her room in between, he holds her just as close as she does, spite the rays undoing the flesh of his limb. 

To see Ivory in the final parting of the sun, a rare image, how she looks in all manners of the daytime remains unbeknownst to him. Violet light outlines her soft features. He can’t help but mimic, pressing the palm of his hand to her cheek. To remember a sight such as her; divine in flesh and steel, glinting like gunmetal. 

A kiss like a bullet, for her lips are gone too soon.  Dark longs for more by the time she pulls away. He wants her to drown him in them. 

❝ Hello, ❞  A repetition of her phrase,  ❝ one I have longed for the most, the one whom I counted the hours for. The one who owes me no apologies, because the fault is all mine.  ❞ as the demon speaks he begins to lean forward into her. Close enough to have their lips ghost each other’s.

               ❝ How beautiful you look in this light. ❞