UNDER CO.

jang seonghwan. xxix. purveyor of death.

[lythrosophy]

Do you ever shut up. No. Even when you are dead, you still never shut up, Hyunseung.

“We cannot wait / for angels. We’ll be our own gods now.” @oculvus

+ A dazzle of matins, candles and sun-gilt flesh, and there upon the pew, we have the sacred, shoulder to shoulder, with the cursed. “Dear Lord, I pray for this lady to open her heart to me.” In these words lies a theatrical cadence that incenses her  s w e e t  blood, evoking an antiphon so petulant it is endearing — amen to that morbid humor of his. He chuckles, eyes straying to the marble body of our Messiah before they return to her, rays of the sun through the stained glass windows making an aquarelle dream of her face. “And should I truly be dead by afternoon, please let her know that I have always loved her, always will.” This one comes without mischief: this one, an earnest confession.

[tatoshinobu]

▬ This is my first follow forever/appreciation post thing, in all four years of RP. And, to be frank, I’ve never really felt a need, nor gathered enough attachment to do this before. However, I can honestly say that it is also the first time I’ve felt so utterly welcomed, too. Therefore! this is a post to show my appreciation for all of you fools that make my time here a wonderful one. I’ve been working on this slowly for the past few weeks, and trying to ensure I dont miss anyone out (so hopefully I didn’t). Thank y’all for tolerating my garbage-fucker of a muse. I regurgitated some sentimental crap idk man & please overlook this lame graphic? It’s more the content rather than aesthetics that I’m going for this time

Much love, always xox 

Keep reading

[lythrosophy]

+ rules: you can only say guilty or innocent. you are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you or asks you. repost, don’t reblog!

tagged by.  baby. [ @madeintokyo ] ♥ tagging.  @tatoshinobu, @oculvus, @orphous, @lostxlancet, @satvrnide, @grimgott + if you've done this already, please ignore!

asked someone to marry you?  guilty. kissed one of your friends?  guilty. danced on a table in a bar/tavern?  guilty. ever told a lie?  guilty. had feelings for someone whom you can’t have?  innocent. ever kissed someone of the same sex?  guilty. kissed a picture?  guilty. slept in until 5pm?  guilty. fallen asleep at work/school?  innocent. held a snake?   guilty. been suspended from school?  innocent. worked at a fast food chain/restaurant?  innocent. stolen something?  guilty. been fired from a job?  innocent. done something you regret?  guilty. laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose?  innocent. caught a snowflake on your tongue?  guilty. kissed in the rain?  guilty. sat on a roof top?  guilty. kissed someone you shouldn’t?  guilty. sang in the shower?  innocent. been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?  guilty. shaved your head?  guilty. slept naked?  guilty. had a boxing membership?  guilty. made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?  guilty. been in a band?  innocent. shot a gun?  guilty. donated blood?  innocent. eaten alligator meat?  innocent. eaten cheesecake?  guilty. still loved someone you shouldn’t?  innocent. have/had a tattoo?  guilty. liked someone, but will never tell who?  innocent. been too honest?  innocent. ruined a surprise?  innocent. ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you can’t walk after?  innocent. erased someone in your friends list?  guilty. dressed in a man’s clothes?  guilty. joined a pageant?  innocent. been told that you’re beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said?  guilty. still have communication w/ your ex?  innocent. cheated on someone?  innocent. got totally drunk one night and you have an important exam tomorrow morning?  innocent. a total stranger treated you by paying your fare?  innocent. got so angry that you cried?  innocent. tried to stay away from someone for their own good?  guilty. thought about suicide?  guilty. thought about murder?   guilty. how about mass murder?  guilty. rode in a stranger’s vehicle?  guilty. stalked someone?  guilty. had a girlfriend/boyfriend?  guilty. gotten totally drunk during a holiday?  innocent.

[lythrosophy]

resurrection,

+ many, many apologies to everyone who followed and are still following even while i was inactive [ i will follow back immediately after reading your muses’ biography, etc. ] but thank you so much for your interest in hyunseung. i will be active again very soon, i still have messages to respond to, though i am open to plotting as of now! please like this if you would like me to approach you so we could start something. ;u;

[lythrosophy]

AHHH

what is this.. is it anger?? excitement?? disappointment??? i don’t understand.. .

[lythrosophy]

magnets,

+ Idiosyncratic twin of the melanic skin currently molded to Nut's body, serving as the ether for an acre of grandeur, over velvet sofas where an army of hearts sit batting in trochilidine prestissimo at tales being bodyprinted around thin pillars out of a serpent's panache, are neon fires hung by a breath, slathered upon the walls and floor to cradle the platform in an accentuation of the maquillage and light-play – the intermittent moon-falls amidst this mediam noctem permitting a hiemal hand to charm the envelope full of cheap threats into the palm without risk of discovery.

Less than a moment subsequent to ensconcing the case in the inner pocket of his jacket, the smorzando, with which he – our ᴘʜᴀʀᴀᴏʜ of marble orchards – was hailed when making his way about the congregation to the booth he is now seated in, ceases with soft whistles, an acclamation he shares incognito alongside the man next to him, an accomplice who later rises to his feet and ghosts toward the exit in ending their rendezvous. Caramel gaze finally upon one of the dancers, he begins meditating on the face of, what he had first thought, bones finely structured to tug at his memory, eyes poetic with a  c h a p t e r  from his past ; is it her?

[lythrosophy]

under construction! starters / replies will still be written [ at a sloth’s pace, i apologize ] and i am always up for plotting ; i am just working on a more precise biography, so this is a semi-hiatus notice of sorts! i am also aware that there are plotting messages i have yet to get back to but don’t worry, i haven’t forgotten about you!

starter[s] ; @hydriade, @iso2108, @ssaecularis, @akarlii .

replies ; @sanggilx, @resplexndent, @gjvnhee, @jihnq, @inchvate .

[madeintokyo]

aegrvs . [ corpse groom. ]

Wɪᴛʜ ʜᴏɴᴇʏ ᴅᴏ vespertilian teeth cast against the erubescence of his mouth a nigh eldritch juxtaposition ‘tween red and white, timidly ensnaring his lower lip, yearning to cut into more sweetmeats ; an act that verily befits a winsome child of mischief upon All Hallows’ Eve, a soirée thrown with utmost delight every twelve months by the Old Serpent! With the marble of the worktop teasing the gap betwixt his vertebrae when he leans backwards and a coy phalanx tracing the open mouth of the naked vessel in hand [ a fine portrayal of a shy, ghost schoolboy ], jacinthe eyes collapse upon the Pharaoh, maker of neon funerals, ᴀɴᴜʙɪs – his own lover! Towards him does a humerus elegantly outstretch not long after ; the unfilled glass within a pale palm.

          “Could you make that juice for me? ♥”

[lythrosophy]

+ Vermeil plumes froth at rubescent maw in theraposid diaphane, a carcinogenic dulce torn from the nightshades – sapor turned like that of shisha, induced by the Halloween candy jungled upon his palate the preceding hours – swaying between phalanges ringed with a butcher’s elegance. Upon his ears is the terpsichore of a tongue nectar-budded, sialagogue – plucked from behind teeth [ those his mouth remembers as kishmish! ] lacquered with an ancient virus – espaliered to bloom horripilation despite the warmth in the kitchen, to cradle cultriform malar bones in a smile ; a glint for star anise eyes, peering from a face chiaroscuroed under the wagasa of canary-bruised bulbs, to plummet onto the glass offered by a schoolboy’s hand dipped in coconut milk, before uplifting to a gaze of lemon tea. “What’s the magic word, baby?”

[lythrosophy]

synergy ,

inchvate .

+ Nomadic footprints in the clouds of a universe floating from the encephalic depths — a syndrome they [ oh, you know those two, the fanged spintherism in your sleep! ] made for themselves, worn with pavonine hubris when they are eye to eye, followed by teenage adrenaline when they sway behind the chameleon pelage of their latibule ; the episode which is purpling the clock hands of that noon with a Lethean promise. This time brought about by the tachycardia of her curiosity, she wanted to taste his tradition and, in a party's skin, he tutored her ; the etiquette of brandishing blades and the teethwork of a wolf. Thus once aseptic bodies now each have over themselves a rubious cartography styled in tachisme running along the pale zardozi of sun-cut sweat that spills a thousand winks from chests synchronous with fire.

Drunk steps to the river of their personal ᴇ ᴅ ᴇ ɴ, class dismissed — in her hands, a poesy of knives and in his, a cervine skull. His laughter purls sacrilegiously along with the holy waters, 

                                                                                                                             "We look like demons."

[madeintokyo]

upon the skeletal hills of my clavicles, the ᴀʟᴘᴇɴɢʟᴏᴡ of your lips.

[lythrosophy]

and all that cerebral camisado from the ᴀɴᴄɪᴇɴᴛ rumba of our breaths.

[lythrosophy]

oaseur ,

// .

+ The cause of him pronouncing such a judgement upon her remains obnubilated – perhaps it is the argent talons of Selene combing her dusky hair, or the way her clothes melt with her January skin, but it is also possible that his vision has atrophied just a bit since having gone without practice on her ethereal being in quite a while ; a stranger familiar by frequent collisions between their eyes and little chats, the lady [ whose name is still unbeknownst to him, and who he supposes is not far beyond her fourth lustrum ] radiates a saccharine type of charm, always painting their moments together in tangerine. A smile creeps onto Hyunseung's own lips and, subsequent to her remark, he works his fingers through what he feels like disordered strands of his hair. "You don't think I look like a mess?"

[carvalhosmortos]

Visit Original Link

[fy-b2st]

[lythrosophy]

Tagged by: hydriade Tagging: madeintokyo // harlotryofguns // gadarenes // oculvus // sancteum // ssaecularis // inchvate + anyone who's reading this!

(Nick)name: JS, Anubis, 89 *

Birthday: 1989, September 3

Zodiac Sign: Virgo

Height: 5'11" // 180cm

Time: 0354, GMT+9

Sleep: Rarely; mostly when struck by his disorder.

Favourite Books: Do pharmacopoeias count?

Favourite Artists: The Weeknd, The Neighbourhood, BANKS.

Last Movie I Watched: Can't remember.

College: Tutored at a private institution, Gashadokuro.

Dream Job: N/A.

Meaning of URL: The aesthetically butchered form of the Latin word "aegrus", meaning diseased – due to his laboratory-made self.

[lythrosophy]

resplexndent .

+ Intermittent amaurosis of phosphenes, along with paroxysmal little aches – the disjecta membra of a battle fought unto the previous gamboge hour [ abreast of clinomania dancing his fingers away to weave into his chest a nicotine shahtoosh ] against the  a l c h e m y  within him – doesn't keep him from spending time outside and realizing his wish to try out this café, much less tatter that sacralized look of his, a ᴄᴏʀᴘsᴇ with the refulgence of a groom. In a place fitted up in a fashion refreshing to the eye, and so redolent of what seems to be fine coffee, it conveys to him the feeling that he would find no fault but mere comfort, as he indulges in his hot beverage and entertains himself with the steam moving like hips on an Arabian night.

Dragging one of the few available stools that line the counter, Hyunseung mouths to the barista his choice of drink, before his forearm perches upon the lustrous surface of the table and brushes with a pen he hadn't noticed earlier, causing it to drop. Irritation tugs at his dead heart childishly, but coolness is preserved; he flourishes the thin instrument at the nearest stranger – a face from Heaven –  once he has retrieved it. "Yours?"

[lythrosophy]

jlhana:

“I don’t know, how many other came before this?” She asks looking at the male and tilting her head, her finger pointing at the glass he was holding in his hands. Her eyes moved on his and she smiled again. She could not say she knew the man, but they had seen in that very bar a few times, enough to make her be brave enough to approach the stranger. He seemed ok, particular for sure, but definitely not dangerous, enough for her to move closer.

+ A moment’s peer into those feline eyes, despite his carousel brain, affords him the view of a vespertine party, and to that pianissimo issuing from a throat as though sculpted by an artificer of excellent taste, is then added the faint, approaching screech from the legs of her chair, a response that has his smile – the chameleon skin of teeth lined with s c u m – growing wide. He is far from what she had seen before, asked by the virus inside for worn sobriety, but instead of drinks, she might be the one to help him make it through the afternoon. “If you guess correctly, I’ll take you wherever you want, or even buy you something.”

[lythrosophy]

gjvnhee .

+ The slang for this district: incense, oshiroi, herbalism – the festival of sudare tanning under the skiagraphy practiced by sakura in a thousand mudras, suggestive of the early days when he toured outside Gashadokuro, of his psychosis for a clandestine love that once was loud, now mute from cardialgia. Reach deeper [ like where he is ], and one would find passages doused mainly in susurrant voices playing giggly prayers among little wars between footfalls, redolent of shrinelike tranquility, and note that they are outmatched in sense of physiognomy, but attractions there still keep the culture of lights the shades of koi, that has attained his appreciation for introducing him to colors he wishes he would often see when his head is lost in codeine feathers.

There for selfish exploration, never has Hyunseung been one to frequent the quaint shops just to kill time; preferring to binge upon the historical architecture with his eyes, which once in a while ghost through the clean windows for what he has no reason to purchase. By the next hour, nacarat fingers from the hanging bulbs picking religiously at the jagged pavement would bleed through the streets, forming bayous around ankles – the harbinger of sundown, and his oblivion to the time spent within the confines of this town renders his decision to return home indeterminate, blindfolding him to the  p r e s e n c e  that is lurking too close.