bleed for me.

"Nothing will make sense to your American ears."

[mexiica-blog]

hello hello it me!! im sorry i havent been online!! it’s bc of work and other personal problemas but i promise i’ll be back soon!! pls b patient im a delicate flower <3

[repetition-of-hatred]

[siccario-blog]

soulcrux:

The stranger’s question almost goes unnoticed at first – contrary to his gaze that’s locked on him and Mei feels his stomach turn at the mere thought of his appearance shoving the other away. Amber irises shamefully look away, lips no longer curled into a smile; it’s not a pleasant feeling. His inner voice mentally scolds him for being so careless as to forget about his scars. 

“I… uh, drink,” he awkwardly motions to the glass in his hand, all the while avoiding eye contact. “I.. go out sometimes too… Just get wasted, in general. End up with someone in the same bed then regret it. Rinse and repeat. ”

     body language is the universal       language of man. and emiliano       understands.

                  “ the latter is not                      something you                      enjoy. ”

      his gaze does not falter. thoughtful       silence on his part. scans the jawline,       the outline of the man’s nose, yet he       CANNOT HELP but focus heavily       on those curiously alluring scars.       stories written on the flesh--alas,       the THINGS they must tell ! sonnets       of violence-- who wrote them on his       skin? .  .  .  and then:

                  “ I like them,”

      he says.

                  “ your scars. I like                      them. ”

      the trick is to tread away from the       animals on the defensive. emiliano       applies it to the situation-- brings       his visual attention to his glass.

                  “ I like your eyes                      more, however. ”

      look at me. the undertone of his       words. I want to see everything.

[siccario-blog]

soulcrux:

He can’t feel embarrassed – not with the way the stranger positively reacts to his awkward statement. Nonetheless, Mei looks away, taking another sip of his drink just so he can have something to actually do as the cogs in his mind work through a way to make him reply. He doesn’t really mind whether others look at them and see something more than what they are at that very moment. 

“It doesn’t really matter whether things happen for a reason or not. We’re all bound to die sooner or later anyway; so we might as well enjoy life while we can, don’t you think?” A subtle smile as he leans in closer is enough of an indicator that the half-breed already feels comfortable with the company. 

                  “ Oh, yes.                           I most                           certainly                           agree. ”

      it is a murmur, however one that       appears to give the impression       that he has removed himself from       the conversation some. rough little       lines on his conversational partner’s       countenance, one-two-- ah, three.

      he tilts his head slightly. the one       going through the side of his       mouth catches emiliano’s attention       the most. these . . . they give him       character. interest is severely        p i q u e d .

                   “ but do humor                       me a moment.                       how do you                       enjoy life? ”

      onyx eyes trail upward along and       settle to look into pretty amber       ones. his appetite is sparked.

[a-riisa]

**

[siccario-blog]

soulcrux:

Despite having far too much toxic pride to admit it, Mei feels smitten by the other’s voice and actions – it’s something to be ashamed of, definitely, considering he isn’t a foolish teenager anymore. The last thing he wants to do is scare the attractive stranger off, so he tries as hard as he can to hide his eagerness. Another sip is taken from the glass; he doesn’t realize that he’s been drinking far too fast. 

“Are you saying it’s fate that made us meet? Don’t tell me you believe in things like that. I’m not here for true love.”

     that truly provoked a sound       equivalent to a laugh. a scant       exhale decorated with a smile,       a modest smile in which waters       the seed for his laugh lines to       bloom before the eyes and       within plain sight.

                  “ well, to the                      nosy                      bystanders,                      you are here                      for me. ”

      what is that?-- this coquettish       little something skulking in       the underbrush of his even-       tempered words?

                  “ coincidences                      are odd things.                      I wonder how                      they come                      about. ”

      he looks at him again in the       position from before: cheek       on palm and smiling eyes.

                  “ have you a                      clue, señor? ”

[siccario-blog]

hhemeraa:

Like a cat sneaking into a room he didn’t belong, golden eyes glittered at the scene with a mixture of delightful disgust and passive excitement. He knew he’d be seen, but that didn’t stop him from trying to remain as quiet as possible as to not disturb the show and yet he was suddenly addressed as if he were to participate. Attention switched immediately to the set of tools, pliers resting neatly in view, and with a few simple strides, Myles did his due diligence to assist. 

“Here… and you should probably lock the door next time.”

     he takes them and absently       admires the weightiness in his       palm.

                  “ yes. ”

      metal fangs grip bone. back       and forth, back and forth,             t                 w                      iiiiiiiiii                                   s                                         t --

                  “ next time. ”

      -- YANK and the tooth is       scattered somewhere over       there. wet wailing. emiliano       tilts his head; apathetic.

                  “ there are                      nails on the                      table. do                      grab me one,                      please. I,”

      he begins, tossing the pliers       aside and stretching trembling,       pale eyelids with his thumb       and forefinger open. leans       forward and looks directly       into a milky blue eye.

                  “ would                      appreciate                      it. ”

[siccario-blog]

soulcrux:

The half-breed’s lips finally curl into a smirk, a dark brow getting raised albeit amber hues are still focused on his own hands holding the drink. A breathless sound escapes his throat – he’s never been good at playing hard to get; he’s already hard to want. It doesn’t take him long to take another sip, holding it in his mouth for a few seconds. 

“It’s not often that I meet a face I don’t want to forget, y’know?” he releases the glass, eyes taking a short glance towards the other’s features. He knows it’s pathetic – going out, drinking  just so he can forget about his miserable existence, but sometimes it’s worth it. “But I’m fine with not knowing your  name… Or anything about you, for that matter. What are you doing here?” 

     with a dull clink the glass rests.

                  “ did you not                      state you are                      fine without                      knowing                      anything                      about me?                      your question                      is quite                      contradictory. ”

      thick accent curls around the       vowels and consonants-- lullaby       of a SIREN composed just for       THEE. bewitching is his voice,        frolicsome, layered with an        enticing softness manifested       from an enigmatic                                    d a r k n e s s .

       emiliano has the unabashed        AUDACTIY to toss a wink        in that man’s direction before        his attention shifts to the        adornment of liquors.

                  “ I am drinking                      here with                      you, am I                      not? ”

[siccario-blog]

soulcrux:

This is a game he’s been part of many times before – the subtle flirting, vague yet obvious body language, tone of voice. It really has been quite a while, though, and Mei can’t help himself to the tempting offer he’s mentally created for himself. 

Stay. Buy him a drink. See where it goes.

“I guess I am,” he mumbles out, lips curling into a tiny smile. It doesn’t take long before both drinks get placed in front, amber hues looking down to inspect them. “I don’t think I caught your name,” he half-breed speaks, pulling the glass towards his own lips. It’s a bitter taste – he doesn’t really like alcohol. 

     emiliano has a fixed stare that       has settled upon the drink of his       own. illuminated within the dark       hues is the faintest, most subtle       satisfaction.

                  “  what need have                       you for it? ”

      he croons, grazing the tip of his       index finger along the rim of the       cool glass-- absent of malice, of       any defensive venom. an impish       desire to know; this is the finger       of vocal beckoning, the crooking       of a finger to ‘ come hither. ’

      lifts the beverage with a delicate       grip and takes a drink. emiliano       looks over the rim of the glass       with tranquil eyes-- glinting,       tranquil eyes.

[dnsweetl]

[siccario-blog]

soulcrux:

@siccario 

There’s silence that follows the other’s words, the inner cogs of the half-breed’s mind working as hard as they can to provide the voice needed to speak. There are already red flags all around the stranger – yet Mei doesn’t really know why; his inner instinct is telling, no, begging him to be careful around this man. Whatever it is, he definitely knows what he’s doing and Mei finds himself a victim –  sitting on a stool next to the other, still keeping a safe distance between them. 

“I’m surprised, really. All alone, without a drink? People might think you’re waiting for someone.”

                  “ no longer. ”

      he rests a pink cheek on a cool       palm. the corners of his sharp       eyes, they smile oh so pretty.

                  “ you are here. ”

      full mouth curves into a half-       smile, the kind with the boyish       charm and a hot enticement       seeping from beneath-- RED       RED danger of an INCUBUS.

                  “ are you the                      gentleman                      to buy me                      a glass,                      then? ”

      strands of black hair, like       feathers, rest against his       handsome face and they       paint emiliano benign. 

[siccario-blog]

"You with anyone here? Y'just seemed lonely, is all..."

                  “ I am alone but                         not lonely, señor.                         And if it is the                         case that you have                         used me as the                         scapegoat of                         your projected                         loneliness, who                         am I to deny but                         a momentary bliss                         of the bearings                         alienation has                         flourished? ”

[siccario-blog]

chirisaku:

     « 極道 » No matter how you explained this meeting, it was strange. Had he been a complete stranger, it would have been less so, but he was not. His presence here itself gave away his lack of trust towards the hitman. To be fair, he had never seen the need for one ( he’d rather deal with it himself and not leave any loose ends ) so suspicion towards an outsider was expected.

    Nonetheless, their inherent charms do not go unnoticed, and as much as he does take a moment to admire their exposed figure, temptation abated before it even began to take form. Had it been under any other circumstances he might have offered a compliment.

    “That’s good to know,” he stated simply, “I assume it’s done then?” 

    He did have a lot more questions ( like whether or not bathing in lakes was a hobby of theirs ), but he assumed they’d rather keep that to themselves.

     lithe fingers dip into the wet       blackness.

                  “ it is done. ”

      and glide along a shoulder,       down a bicep, a forearm.

                  “ you need not                      worry. what is                      man without                      the use of his                      head? ”

      mankind without using his head,        ‘ figurative ’ is the word chosen        for discussion. ah, but per contra--       this case is quite the literal one.

      the only sustenance of detail he       has to offer at the tongue and then       resumes to bathe in water and in       silence. he is  A L L U R E  in       wickedness and debauchery ;        and to the stricken by his hand:       he shall hath black wings       manifest on his maimed back.

[yaoifunlife]

Ten Count

[siccario-blog]

     submerged in the moonlight       he disrobes-- vessel of EROS.       sublime are the sinewy contours       beneath brown flesh and so       s e n s u a l  as they move with       his grace to discard pieces of       tailored fabric stained carmine       one by one; slowly, one by one.       a small pile in the grass and he       dips a foot in the dark lake, then       another. wades through the       water until only his back is to       display, sewn with welts of an       old time.

      cups his hands and water drip       drips from his head down, down       along his face, his neck, his       delicious back. soft footsteps       sound soon after and emiliano       turns only his head. a silhouette       beside his sullied attire.

                  “ it is not my                      blood, ”

      he murmurs-- purrs? perhaps.

[siccario-blog]

     louder than the vocal overtures       of affliction coming undone unto       tender skin-- CREAK goes the door.       loudly soft and softly loud. fingers       clad in white latex, buried to the       KNUCKLE within bleeding nostrils,       eyes that of onyx gemstones look       upon the darkness with a       p a s s i v e                           glaze.

                  “ have you a                         moment?                         will you                         pass me                         the pliers? ”

[siccario-blog]

                  “  Taiwanese whiskey                             is it? such a fine glass.                             what means of business                             have you to treat me                             to such an exquisite                             delicacy of the palate? ”