call me holy

is this some type of self-purification or am i just trying to justify my worth to a woman who touched me and said i'd never be clean. god, save me. i'm dying inside, i'm rotting into filth.

[sancteum-blog]

“Can you just fuck off already?”

+ meme: prompt list !+ status: accepting !

     business-esque smile kept in place, unmoved even by blunt words thrown callously like whetted knives into her shallow heart. any other time nari would have left, went about her pious life and forget this exchange. however, she had a peculiar set of instructions given by her unreliable boss: ‘the customer has asked you hand this to her in person.. i know it’s a pain but observe her reaction, report back to me, okay? nari-yah, are you listening?’

     which is to say this was the only reason the mere flowershop assistant was duty-bound to follow this woman in an annoying fashion with a bouquet of flowers in hand. a comedic scene of a waif of a girl pestering this fashionable woman (wasn’t she famous?) – how degrading. nonetheless, nari was persistent. she liked her job well enough to heed the demands, albeit forceful instructions edged closer to harassment. “i have to give these to you..” once more presenting the bouquet of flowers that were far too grand to have surface value meaning. oak leaves encompassed the edges to give a strong structure and creating a dignified appearance despite the sympathetic message that the other flowers presented. nari had studied flowers for a long period of time, knowing their simple language. purple roses expressed sorrow while the white lilies implied resurrection added with yellow tulips and rosemary signifying in memory of. each expertly placed together by gentle hands, accented only with sprigs of lavender for devotion, tendrils of clematis to whisper that the receiver was unchanged for eternity and a touch of queen anne’s lace to imply there was a safe haven. “the sender wishes to remain unknown.. oh but they did say they’ve been supporting you for a long time..”

     keeping to script, carefully repeating hallow words that she had memorized religiously despite the want to keep it buried in her throat. to say the least, the bouquet carried the weight of a person’s feelings to which nari found suffocating. the scent was nauseating and plagued her lungs with unease, leading her to breathing softly from her mouth; any other time would have been fine for she adored the different floral notes but due to the impassioned message conveying consuming devotion she could only guess how demanding the sender was. her imagination conjuring up sentences that could be paired with this arrangement of flowers: ‘it’s pitiful how things ended but rise again. i’ll always support you, this will never change. i’ll protect you.’

[quietvoiced]

[sancteum-blog]

◦ jacob’s ladder

@jeonqup  

    her index finger gently traced fragile stems, sliding against the curve ever so softly. the imagery seemed akin to a lover caressing their partner’s throat, seemingly loving however one wrong move and life could so easily be snatched. the action is done carefully as if by her mere corrosive touch the delicately wrapped bouquet of jacob’s ladder (otherwise known as lily in the valley) would have wilted to their impending death. despite this, her amorous gaze was fixated on them laid upon her lap, comfort and pride sprouted inside like weeds in a vacant garden. not because she is a florist assistant, oh no. the flowers reminded her of a game she played in her free time-- animal crossing: new leaf. well into being an adult yet nari had too many child-like tendencies that rendered her unable to progress from girl to woman at the age of twenty-two. nonetheless, the flower is reminiscent to the one in the game. which is why she brought it, to surprise her friend. a fellow mayor like herself. their meeting was in the game and eventually in real life, nothing special although interesting.

    friend, how cute is that term? (friends who only know each other for surface value, for town value!) nari had yet to show him her ugly insides and instead revealed the pious and umblemished town under her ownership, where all flowers were in an ordered fashion and her villagers were nothing but amicable. molded by the palms of once holy hands and church-yard fingers that have long lost their virtue, in other words created by a fraud-- a con-artist! the town itself exemplified what she so achingly, desperately wished to personify: clean, clean and so---- clean.

    lost in her feelings of self-disgust and pride until a breeze brushed against her face, her attention drawn back to the present. a reminder that she was alone and that the boy had yet to arrive; she wondered if he forgot. with that in mind, her free hand dug out the phone from her pocket, a few taps of her fingers against the screen unlocking it before quickly going to her messages to inquire where he was.

[ SMS → DJ MOON ] // 1:35PM

┈  DJ, DJ ! where are you? ┈ remember it’s at Cheonggyecheon Stream.. i’m sitting near the water with a red coat. ┈  ｡ﾟ(ﾟ∩´﹏`∩ﾟ)ﾟ｡ it’s a little cold so please do come soon ┈  i have a gift. (´∀｀)♡

[sancteum-blog]

“All you do is whine.”

+ meme: prompt list !+ status: accepting !

    irritation scorches her insides and appears physically in the form of splotches of red on her cheeks. her annoyance nearly bubbles over and almost escapes her mouth before she tempers it down. replacing it instead with strained laughter as her features are painted in faux shame. “is that so? i’m terribly sorry.” the apology is forced and accompanied by a meek tone fractured by disdain. wishing to lash out, her true nature pressing against her skin as if to escape but she could not allow that when his words ring true.

    instead using her teeth to bite against her tongue lightly to prevent herself from speaking anymore as her gaze shifts away from him. the fact that she complained at all about her job seemed to aggravate the man in front of her, unbeknownst to her even if it was all speculation on her part. assuming from how expressionless and cold he was, she couldn’t help but think he appeared more of a stranger than before. she hadn’t known him long (hadn’t known him at all if she thought about it) but she figured that indulging herself into the simple customs of lamenting over a bothersome job would draw them closer, even by a margin.

                                               she was wrong.

[sancteum-blog]

dosvda:

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep that’s getting to him, or maybe it’s just his imagination, but he swears that he’s seen this exact scenario played out somewhere before. There are a few choice titles that come to mind, but he dismisses them in favor of paying attention to the situation at hand.

In front of him stands a girl that can’t be more than a couple of years older or younger than he is; a girl that has just tripped over her own two feet, landed in his arms, and tried to play it cool. She smiles and laughs, but it’s fairly easy to tell that it’s difficult for her to stand. The grimace blooms across her features, confirms what he already knows. And so he returns her courteous smile.

“I can help.”

There aren’t any canes or walking sticks on the premises, so all he’s really got to offer is an arm or a shoulder and his own two legs, but it shouldn’t take too much time out of his day. This might be his one charitable act for the year. Best to get it out of the way early, right? Usually he doesn’t get around to it until December.

“If it’s sprained, it’s gonna hurt a helluva lot just getting inside. Lemme help, just get you to a table or something.”

It’s a moment before he then offers her a hand to go with the smiles and maybe he hopes she’ll take it. Maybe he doesn’t.

“You don’t even have to worry about paying me back.”

  holy faith told her to accept his benign offer (Mother taught you manners!); however, common sense warns her with blaring alarms that this interaction would sprout the weeds to the garden of her life. nonetheless, her meager fight put up earlier dies down and holy faith easily won out. as it always did. her hand hesitantly placed against his own, undoubtedly their hands were the perfect fit much to her dismay. gripping it lightly it though there was some sort of revolution as there is fascination; a cause and effect.

   “you sure you don’t want anything? not even coffee?” a poisonous tongue dishing out lies and continuing the masquerade of a pure-hearted girl who seemingly prolongs his stay. which leads to the question: why is she continuing on with this horrid, caricature version of a tacky rom-com?

   the answer is simple: she was too devoted to her image, to the pretense of a normal girl to ever break out of the mold. disgusting but painful truth, one that she herself would never admit out loud. instead she accepts his company, a physical representation of fodder for her growing image of a ‘benevolent person’ who denies no one. not even him.

   “the shop is actually a couple blocks down from here.” a quiet murmur that falls into silence as she took a step towards the mentioned direction, pinpricks of pain shooting up her leg but she ignores it steadfast. there has been worse and this is little in comparison. with that said she remembers something she had long forgotten amongst their cliché meeting– her gratitude albeit it being reluctant.

   “thank you, you know.. for this.”

[yourmusings]

RP starters: Heated argument.

content warning: death baiting.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Leave. Leave right now.”

“What more do you want?!”

“I really wish you were never born.”

“I hate you!”

“Can you just fuck off already?”

“Shut up! Just.. Shut up!”

“All you do is whine.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I can’t do this anymore. Not with you.”

“How did that feel?”

“Oh my god, I don’t care!”

“No wonder nobody likes you.”

“Is this how little you think of me?”

“That hurt you son of a bitch…”

“Pack your shit and go. Get the fuck out of my sight!”

“Leave me alone!”

“I can break your nose if I want to.”

“Are you going to cry now?”

“I wouldn’t miss you. Nobody would.”

“You’re so pathetic!”

“I won’t forget this.”

“I’m going to break your jaw if you keep talking!”

“Why can’t you listen to a single thing I say?!”

“I have a right to be angry.”

“This would have never happened if you wouldn’t exist.”

“Get out of my life!”

“You’re nothing! Did you hear me?! Nothing!”

“You ruined everything.”

[bluebeardsfinalgirl]

victorious // panic! at the disco

[sancteum-blog]

hey uglie - an0n boo

      painted red lips twitch in annoyance, the callous statement held no weight; however, she has known him since she was a child. (a youth forgotten) knowledge gave her incentive to act the way she does: back straightened, lids narrowed into a squint and distance closed between the two as she spun around towards him. “SANG JINHYUNG.” voice raised just below yelling, her index finger jabbing against his chest with each word. “you’re the ugliest boy in south korea.. with your monkey ears.” a lie but unfortunately when put together she becomes just as childish.

[sancteum-blog]

hey sexc

   the imagery of lavenders sprouting from his mouth is a warning sign for her, BEWARE! but she has a penchant for nice boys-- all seemingly normal boys. (he’s anything but normal, isn’t he?) though not for the same reason most would think. “don’t call me that..” her face flushes  automatically, prominent against fair skin albeit bearing no significant meaning. merely embarrassed by his use of language. even if his outspoken personality is one of his redeeming qualities.

[simply-quotes-deactivated202002]

How could one person, who’d proven to be so inherently bad for me, so wrong, still be so utterly necessary for my happiness? It wasn’t fair.

R.K. Lilley, Lovely Trigger (via baeyeonsei)

[sancteum-blog]

+ hariiolate.

             {  @sancteum

    ❝  … i’m going to pretend nothing happened, i’m quite   good   at that.   ❞  not her actress  skills  are to be praised in this situation, but her  fear  of being in the center of attention  (  so different from what she was, so painful to look at  ) . ❝  but … do you need help?  ❞

      knees pressed into the dirty ground, hair in complete disarray. image of pure chaos and calamity, skin kissed with scrapes and bruises; an accident per-say. "is that so?" blunt-edged tongue lacking ill intentions, mouth softening into the perfect smile of benevolence. kind actions is key to being divine, a sham she plays well. "if you could help me up, that would be ideal." her legs shake, they tremble; she's scared, oh so scared. of herself.

[sancteum-blog]

+ @qwonjiyong

[ SMS: KJY – 9:34PM ] i am inside the church. hurry, it's cold.

   a harmless text defined by plans of a routinely night consisting of quiet whispers and understanding, where nari lends an ear and a comforting hand. both under the guise of longtime friends or rather companions of faith and dependency, either way the message is sent. her hand gripping onto her phone in a vice grip, the night's air rising unneeded tension. delicate footfalls silent when pacing back and forth in GOD'S threshold, keeping to the shadows in the meantime. important for her not to be seen, both did not have a profound connection that deserved speculation but it's better to be kept in secret. for his sake and her own, hiding behind their GOD and praying to a religion that can't save them in the meantime.

[dosvda-blog]

                                                                         B O R E D O M

                       NARITA Reizo under fire from critics about the disappearance of son Ryo                                      Confirmation that the search is off for Japanese boy.

2015. 10. 30.

It’s been three months since the·heir to the Narita name went missing. Since day one, it’s appeared that Reizo, the current·head of the company and foreign national hasn’t been amazingly adamant about finding·his child. The efforts to locate Ryo·have been·halfhearted at best, and some speculate that Reizo may·have facilitated the disappearance. There·have been numerous·headlines in the past asking whether or not·he [Ryo] was suitable as an·heir, citing that·he was very active after dark and that maybe·he wasn’t ready for the responsibility.

Today, it was confirmed by a spokesman for the SMPA that the search for Ryo·has been called off, as it was, quote,·“taking up valuable resources that could be better used on more recent cases.” Reizo·has declined all calls for an interview.

If you·have any information about the whereabouts of Narita Ryo, please call the information·hotline at

                                                                       82-4-352-4986

[sancteum-blog]

+ @rvlapse 

      neither hatred or affection flourishes in her depraved heart, a duty-bound 'saint'. ( the term is loosely used, saints don't commit sins like she does ) watching after him, chasing after him to the ends of the world if the situation arises; his fate incidentally translated as her own. thus her actions of following behind him, skirts twisting between her legs from rushed footsteps despite clutching them in fistfuls. "noah-ssi, you musn't wander too far." they are tied by religion, by some factious hold that is neither benign or cataclysmic; just tiring. 

      "remember, I have to keep any eye on you." a recycled spiel, how many times has she repeated this? all she knows is that her mother said it too, her father probably did too. to watch him in his downfall, in his resurrection. as if he was some GOD to them, an artificial GOD-- he's just a boy with holy carved in his insides, right?

[sancteum-blog]

+ dosvda.

There are a thousand scenarios that could’ve played out today. The most likely ones were those that involved him remaining in his bed, dead to the world outside. he wasn’t supposed to wake up yet. 

Errands.

Not even that long ago, he had someone to do his errands for him. Didn’t need to go out and buy his own toiletries or buy his own coffee. There were people for that. he didn’t want those people, so now he has to do it himself.

Tired is all he can think as he propels himself forward, each step just muscle memory and willpower. Can’t even bring himself to light a cigarette.

And it’s all that courses through his veins as he slows outside the coffee shop on the corner. It’s all that he breathes as he’s startled into action by the woman - girl - passing him tripping over uneven cement. Reflexes jerk him into motion and he finds her arms with his hands; he pulls her in to make sure she doesn’t hit the ground. If he listens closely, he can hear the beginning notes to some movie’s soundtrack and he wonders if it’s coming from a nearby shop or if it’s just his imagination.

“Don’t worry about it.” he doesn’t feel anything as she begins to pull away, and he allows her the distance. Other than a slight strain on his muscles, he’s fine - and it’s not her doing, anyway. “I should be askin’ you that, don’t you think? You good to go?”

It’s easy to offer her a smile, a polite gesture to a stranger.

“Need any help getting to where you’re going?”

      "true." a nervous fit of laughter escapes her, hoping not to be confused for a giggle. even so, relief spreads across her body instantly upon receiving a couple inches of breathing space; he's normal - a hopeful thought. signs for the stereotypical love story brushed aside, be it by his polite nature or the distance between them. engrossed with the idea of ending the abrupt meeting and slink into the coffee-shop then head to work.

      "you shouldn't trouble yourself, look." obtuse bravado displayed and heightened with faux confidence as his hold turns lax. proving the truth of her words by stepping further away from him, a quick shake of her limbs. her actions proved to be more harmful than helpful. to her dismay a sharp pain began to hammer against her ankle and small shocks of electricity shoot up her leg without remorse. as if to warn her: abstain from walking on your own.

                                                    AS IF !

      "see, no harm done." lies sprout against the tip of her tongue as if spring had arrived for strangers with no superficial ties. unheard of her to try to have truth clinging to her mouth in full bloom for him. despite her easily weaved fiction, her features go pale in discomfort from the pain and a faint tremble from her injured leg conflicts with her words. "thanks for your concern, I am just going to the coffee-shop."

      preventing him from helping since this appears to be the prelude to a picturesque scenario for a romance film. she'd avoid it as if it were the plague, avoid it like how she ignores the flowery background painted behind him.

[shoujonotes]

[21pilotsdaily]

Migraine // Twenty One Pilots