i. these are the scenes of an unpublished nightmare .

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@mutteeth-blog
i. these are the scenes of an unpublished nightmare .
TO EXACT REVENGE FOR YOURSELF OR YOUR FRIENDS IS NOT ONLY A RIGHT , IT'S AN ABSOLUTE DUTY .
all i want is for @ghoulegacy to love me :(
fleshsubsumed.
she treks him, knowingly. like stars to their prerogative. light ceded to misery, to inherent dark, death—her. propitiation for the godhead devastation—her. that utter subsumption into void—her. all hers, unto him–hers—all nothingness—hers—made an everything to him. it excavates him; his are tombs, his makings and inner-workings, the totality of him realized here. tombs deceptively, unearthed to reveal life still unwearied and trying. life asphyxiated and upon its first glisten of worldly light spun mad, ravaging with desperate hands until they were skinless and writhing bones. serpentine coils about ungraspable opportunities. that’s what he is to her. a dead man trying. she laughs at him, knowingly, because of this and her duplicitous sincerity. duplicitous way of being, way of twice, parallels. love and hate; love and sex; love and possession. she holds him like silken tulle, draped about him like her corporeality is tailored for his encapsulation. it may as well be, the way this dying man talks to a so far dead girl, deluded with the conviction that either are flesh or in his case, here. her fingers caress him by jaw, trace to his temples, chin atop his head, her in his lap, lovely and uncaring.
❛ you barely know what to feel and you’d want to waste emotions on me ? you’re being kind again, kaneki .. i thought we talked about that .. ❜ her fingers entwine about white strands, tucks them behind an ear she nears, roseate plush a respite to his carcass, tickling lips. ❛ — your .. charity. ❜ she coos some cruel femininity, gorgeous and soft and very pernicious. her finger reunites with its sisters, full hand embracing him, thumbpad running over his cheek. her close mouth emanating low murmur like lascivious incantation, cue simper.
❛ you’re gonna make me sick. spare me your shit, okay ~ ♥ ? ❜
her ––- the boy who loves her is filthy, the boy who loves her is trying to kill her; and she deserves it, she really does. ruining everything he touches is the boy’s love –– he, so starved and undeserving, grew under a cold fist and this is the only way he knows how to kiss / kill. he, he loves like dirty sheets, bloody virginity, broken hymens. he plays inside of the girls he loves. ( he loves her, he lover her! –– saw something ugly in him, saw in her. ) her ––- her hair is soft plague, rots his skin as he holds. ( he’s already rotten. ) it twines through his fingers so intimately, and he thinks, he thinks, ‘ ah, this is another way to make love. ‘ tickles his contused knuckles, the split skin, his red. his fist is against the nape of her neck and he pulls until he feels amethyst snapping. ah. this is another way to make love. her throat is like the beach, waiting for his tide / teeth to erode her sand. she is black death –– the delicacy is deceiving. she is fleshy - white unblemished skin, snow fallen.
he is a child who knows nothing but take, take, take. take a bite. his other hand, so tenderly, thumbs at her jaw, swipes over her lips, and pushes between them. her tongue is a wet, disgusting thing. ( he wants her choking on him. ) ❝ shut up ––- just shut up. i hate when you talk.
❛ should just rip your fucking tongue out. dolls are better when they’re silent. fuck, fuck. ❞ behind the cradle of her ear, his nails dig unto her flesh, gripping, gripping, in the only love he knows how –– fury. his breath is a hot whip, trembling staccato. it’s lashes against her clavicle. his hold is a jail sentence. he bucks his hips up once, only once, before settling to let them shift uncomfortably between the tight embrace of her thighs. ❝ i hate you. ❞
just know that i’m super lazy with writing on anything other than my main blog ( which is todoroki atm ) but i will get to it, i promise!
@fleshsubsumed
she’s acid and he swallows. she’s acid and he burns –– like a shot of whiskey, like a gunshot. ( like a fever and his mom’s hand flattening down his sweat-soaked hair. ) archaic - rotten lips, her sharp god - whipped hieroglyphs; he cleans his ears, he kneels, he listens, and he bleeds. HE SWALLOWS, and chokes on her, wondering how could he still be this naive? her tongue is a blade and it’s bright as it strikes his skin and he falls, he falls, he falls. she loves him so much she slices his skin open with every syllable and nestles her way into his flesh. ( he wonders when the lines began to blur –– when he became her, and her, him. ) the cattle - brand of her teeth on his shoulder; it aches! her tender hurt, her rancor nails on his hip.
she cradles him like a cage.
❝ i hope i don’t find myself regretting bringing you with me, rize - san. ❞ his words are a quiet rage, unslumbering threats.
starter call!!!
I reach out in love, my hands are guns, my good intentions are completely lethal.
Margaret Atwood (via larmoyante)
YOU SAY, don’t call the splintering of your bones art –– this mending is science, it’s progress. inside your broken ribs, your heart pulses, stings; and clutching at your chest, looking downwards at your mottled, dead - blacken fingernails, you find yourself DISGUSTED. this heart, your childish heart, is disturbed at the sight of scars, your scars. lain out and tallied down, oh, you torn little boy, dressed as a SURGEON ; for once, for now, you can be anything on this FOREVER HALLOWEEN.
O’ darling, it’s make believe.
srry rize / eto / touka i’m gay for @kannibahl :/
YOU SAY, don’t call the splintering of your bones art –– this mending is science, it’s progress. inside your broken ribs, your heart pulses, stings; and clutching at your chest, looking downwards at your mottled, dead - blacken fingernails, you find yourself DISGUSTED. this heart, your childish heart, is disturbed at the sight of scars, your scars. lain out and tallied down, oh, you torn little boy, dressed as a SURGEON ; for once, for now, you can be anything on this FOREVER HALLOWEEN.
O’ darling, it’s make believe.
@bingeats
On Aphrodite ; her hair weaves through the cotton strap of her dress, criss-crossed as elegantly as the widow’s web. Purple tinted, poison tinted, archaic assassination like rancor-rotting skin, frothy snarling saliva, and sagging bone-white eyes. She’s death but venom has never tasted any sweeter –– like the obscene amount of sugar in his coffee. His eyes water simply from looking at her –– they sting –– but he can’t bring himself to stop.
i am you. you are me. me.
describe yourself ( or your character ! ) on anon and i’ll say if ( i’d ) ken’d date you ( accepting )
absolutely convincing and faultless logic i agree 100% best ship 2k13 - forever??? forever would recommend 1546354/10 hate + hate = no hate it negates itself therefore best ship thank u goodnight
Kaneki Ken in Young Jump ; x
humble me this - who is your delicate ravage? who splits the sunflower stems into a dulcet arabesque? who parts the dew on hemlock trees into a fugue of pearls?
Scherezade Siobhan, from “Nom de Guerre” (via oofpoetry)
hello, you seem like you have it quite rough... so as someone who only sees it from the outside, i wish you all the best and!! just know that i would die to have your writing style because it's so extraordinary and still so beautiful! oh and i think that you are very pretty as well <3 i hope you have a great day!
i really don’t have much more to say other than thank you and that i really appreciate the time you took to send me this message. honestly, this was so sweet of you. i woke up, logged on here to see what’s up, and read this, and now there’s already a smile on my face so, thank you! i hope you have a wonderful day as well! ♡
💕 disgusting kissy noises :)))
@rudbeckiia
smoke sits in his lungs like the mineralized ash of pompeii –– it coats every lonely inch of them and caresses the deepest parts of him. splits him open with a noir-kohl burn scorching down his throat. it sits, and he chokes on it –– second-hand smoke shotgunned between his red raw lips. coughs of smog escapes his gritted teeth like the angry puffing of a volcano. he’s ready to erupt. mouth incinerated, molars white-hot, tongue a gooey slab of lava –– he trails his tongue along the slope of hide’s bottom lip, pink sobbing saliva. for a lack of better words, it’s gross. his breath taste cigarette-stale, spit taste like tuna, an empty can of fish pushed to the edge of hide’s coffee table, plastic fork sucked white and abandoned as well.
‘ that’s gross, ‘ he complains before hide has a chance to gripe about his stinky breath. ‘ i don’t want your second-hand smoke –– i have my own cigarettes, you know. ‘
hide grins. it’s something feral and mischievous and close enough to his own lips that kaneki could bite them and split the swollen puffy flesh open. he doesn’t, but he finds a moment to appreciate the intimacy between them –– and how that same intimacy doesn’t threaten the sanctum of their friendship.
a ghost smile haunts his mouth and his palm presses firm to hide’s cheek, pushing his friend, barely balancing on locked elbows, off the couch.
‘ you’re gross. ‘ teeth give a cheeky flash.