I AM STEADILY REVAMPING THIS BLOG + ATTEMPTING TO ACCESS ALL MY ICONS/GRAPHICS/ETC. PLEASE, BE PATIENT! however, like this post to plot w/ me in the meantime :^)
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@sinforged-blog
I AM STEADILY REVAMPING THIS BLOG + ATTEMPTING TO ACCESS ALL MY ICONS/GRAPHICS/ETC. PLEASE, BE PATIENT! however, like this post to plot w/ me in the meantime :^)
for all have SINNED & fall short of the GLORY of god.
&. ELSA ;
LANGUOR - KISSED LIDS, woven from stubborn silk, refuse ascension & deign themselves to the embrace of counterfeit slumber. slow exhale, expelled from atrophic lungs ; coupled with delicately wrinkled nose, makes for the image of subtle vehemence, muted disagreement. ❛ NOT YET. ❜
AH, BUT SHE IS NO FOOL. feigned doze begets an audible sigh of simulated contempt, and raven guides her fingers along the lithe curvature of a waist she’d ache to hold when it ( inevitably ) left her side. tugging, tugging ---- beckoning home closer whilst lips wander to the canyon of porcelain collarbone. ❛ please ? ❜
✿ kick my a ss : ' )
kiss me ! accepting : ( 18 ) – stomach kiss.
❛ hush. ❜ WORDS BEFALL CHERRIED LIPS as a gentle sort of coo, fingers ( nimble, careful ) ghosting beneath fabric ———- a phantom against flesh. hallowed. reflective of inherent vices as raven leads a tease of wary index along the fragile slope of a queen’s inner thigh. her touch carries across valleys of uncharted territory, all while open - mouthed sighs of stay, stay, stay find themselves etched into elsa’s abdomen. palpable flesh beneath wicked lips ! silent pleads only to fall upon deaf ears. hunger. ache. try as she may to subdue desire, she is a product of sin : lust and greed condemn ichor ———- ravishing her senses in the same way mouth and digits ravish her partner’s flesh. bite, squeeze. simultaneously inching upward and downward, ebbing closer and closer to heat.
—— WHILST HER TONGUE DIPS BETWEEN ! tracing circles beneath naval, willpower coaxing downward the wanton journey of fingers bound to misbehave : slowly, she reminds herself. slowly. ❛ i’m taking my time. ❜
send me a ✿ and i’ll generate a number.
kxllercolt:
1: aggressive kiss
2: all over kiss
3: back kiss
4: cheek kiss
5: eyelid kiss
6: fingers kiss
7: firm kiss
8: first kiss
9: forehead kiss
10: french kiss
11: gentle kiss
12: scar kiss
13: hand kiss
14: jawline kiss
15: last kiss
16: neck kiss
17: rain kiss
18: stomach kiss
19: underwater kiss
20: upside down kiss
@winterbred !
LIPS, THOUGH THEY WANDER, claim homage against porcelain planes of cheek, seeking familiarity amongst warmth ; seeking comfort betwixt lethargy woven through the broken drag of slurred words. this distance, no matter how slight, seems infinite. ❛ wake up. ❜
» reaction meme
Send in a symbol for my muse to react to one of these.
💋 your muse kissing mine
❤ your muse telling mine “i love you”
👅 your muse offering mine oral
🖕 your muse giving mine the finger
💍 your muse proposing to mine
🎁 your muse giving mine a present
⭐ your muse inviting mine to see the stars
💐 your muse giving mine flowers
💰 your muse giving mine money
🚗 your muse offering mine a ride
🍴 your muse inviting mine for lunch
🍨 your muse inviting mine for ice cream
🎤 your muse inviting mine for karaoke
📷 your muse asking mine to model
🐈 your muse giving mine a pet
🐎 your muse asking mine to go horse riding together
🚿 your muse asking mine to join them in the shower
⛄ your muse asking mine to help build a snowman
❄ your muse throwing a snowball at mine
ELSA.
SHE ALLOWS IT, permits herself to be waltzed into ephemeral comfort by coaxing fingers and beseeching eyes. the couch is a saving grace, of sorts ——— concealing feeble knees and cushioning the fall of glass heart. elsa does not crumble, does not shatter into fractals of the ice she wields ; hers is a graceful decline into obscurity, marked by muted breaths and eyes in half - mast, and the gentlest tilt of head, because there is too much and too little of everything and she is a dying phantom of desire, marked to return to known normalcy by aurora’s song. ( drunk on desperation and a one - sided war. ) lithe fingers are bootless reassurances tangling in locks of ebony, tugging ever so slightly in a call for attention. ❛ WE WILL FIND a way, if we really wish to. ❜ barely does she comprehend her own words, covered in wispy lilt ; the war in her system draws first blood, the antiphons of her kingdom too heavy for ignorance. ❛ DO YOU wish it? ❜
AND ATTENTION SHE GIVES, virtue - less by nature ------ a wicked soul fabricated by evil hands, life - line laced within by an endless cacophony of vice : of sin. pride. lust. greed. unholy bootstrap lifted by the overwhelming pillage of heart. words of comfort are stalled by lips, pressed to jaw ----- mapping uncharted territory with vivacious hunger ( though gentle, still ) in the midst of the dismal likelihood she may be devoid of such warmth, such luxury for frightful days to come. no protest will make love stay. no protest will protect the fretful titter of a softened heart. ❛ ---------- i do. ❜ words, mumbled against the slope of foreign throat, crack. shatter. what is a demon but a stepping stone : fallen angel, though she was never quite holy to start. ❛ though i wish above all else that you stay. ❜
RICK FLAG.
raven. first guess is that it’s a nickname, an alias ; either to protect one’s true identity or simply to give one’s darker side a name. brain rushes, searching for something vaguely familiar, a matching accordance. little extraordinary activity goes on in the country, in the WORLD, without A.R.G.U.S. getting their hands on information. and so there’s a thread that slowly comes to mind. blurry at first, but then he remembers ————————
it’s something that he’d only heard of. and it must have been years ago. they had called themselves… ‘teen titans’ ? well, she’s not a teen anymore. waller had never sent him or anyone he knows of to investigate further. so he had never crossed their path. yet somehow HER ALIAS had stuck in his mind ( right. hers was the witch - like thing. ) because they’d said she was unstable in moral alignment —— a potential problem. or something of that sort.
right now, however, he couldn’t care less. what she did was to help him, perhaps even save his LIFE. figure straightens finally ; eyes remain cautious, unsure how to reveal what he could know IF she is who he thinks. ‘ rick flag. ‘ he pauses, the following line having proven to make most frown. ‘ i work for the government. you are raven ? “the” raven ? …the titans ? ‘
THE RINGING FAMILIARITY IS UNSETTLING, and any forward movement to facilitate an air of safety, of kindness, is stunted just as quickly as it had come. long ago had she stripped herself of any loyalties : to the titans, to her father, to herself. consistent endangerment of the ones she cared for ensured the lack of platonic and romantic flourish alike. she had lost her love, she had lost her friends. what right had she to be part of a team ? a demon devoid of faith ------ just as one should be. unstable moral alignment was a wicked understatement. ❛ ---------- not anymore. ❜ her feet ache, ache, ache ; they beg her to run, uneasiness a tyrannical resonance in her girth, fueled by a bedlam of the long - since - gone. a creature of discord, yes, but such tumult did little beyond inspiring simmering nausea. ❛ i haven’t spoken to, or of, the titans in years. ❜
A STEP BACKWARD : SHE WAVERS. ill at ease, though her knees try as they might to sustain a sliver of stability. ❛ what do you want from me ? ❜
( dis ) loyal daughter. guess who’s actually here.
RIOTCUT.
HERE IT IS: words no longer unspoken, he feigns the quiet surprise he’s been bound to from the start of their rather unusual conversation. never argue against the sun, he warns her, and as her digits curl into the fabric of his attire he finds himself oddly well versed with the mingling lights between their two bodies - like light an dark, unable to exist without the other. sun and the moon , something of the sorts. and here she is, under the coverage of his divergent eyes and disastrous lips that search for her mouth in a soft kiss.
❛ ———— & so i won’t, love. ❜
BREATH, CAUGHT. a stepping stone. a stepping stone. it is not often that her heart swells, but in these moments of phantom softness ? it bursts. nudity is an idle thought in the back, back, back of her skull ------ & at his confirmation, the refusal to leave, comes an audible exhale of relief. with ease does find his mouth, a harbinger of heat & chaos, darkness incarnate. yet, darkness can seldom exist without light & here he is, pressed to her lips, his lower caught fast between her teeth.
❛ i didn’t think so. ❜
RIOTCUT.
❛ and you underestimate what i am. ❜
HALF-GOD, HALF-BAD. her powers resonate between them, but his body is a practiced perfect statue of roman literature. not a second to falter a bone or eyelash, he stands as if he owns the place / finger to her cheek, still as ice. the glow in him is different from hers : it’s red, a pulsating forest fire stuffed between his ribcages, smoke and crimson - he has far from daunted when the crescent of his nail bites into her cheek. you’re breathing because i want you to.
THE TENSION shatters when he turns on his feet ( an abrupt motion ), shirt dangling over his shoulder and nonchalance dressed to perfection, as he makes his way for the exit.
❛ oh, but it is easy to make me leave. all you have to do is ask. ❜
❛ -------- i don’t. ❜ ANOTHER TRUTH, trickling from crimson cushions -------- gentle affirmation of awareness. she knows. she knows. as though the danger, the fear, doesn’t fuel desire. as though ACHE doesn’t further pool when she reigns inward his fits of rage. as though hips don’t twitch as his nail bites into porcelain : as though her legs don’t carry her ( instinctively ) to catch him as he nears the exit -------- fingers curling into shirt, tugging. what is a demon to a god but a stepping stone ?
❛ & i ------ ❜ breath, caught. hues of amethyst fleet ---- up, down. ❛ ------- never told you to leave. ❜
RIOTCUT.
❛ exhausting ? love, i’m the one going around stealing shirts. ❜
HERE’S THE THING : he knows he’s winning, but he speaks as if he hadn’t the faintest clue. she’s flustered, a little more than she might be vexed by the situation, but he holds no reverberating arrogance to himself for it. infact, he maintains what might accompany the quiet bickering : a soft voice, untouched by any accusation or fault. a finger to cheek, a drawl to voice - he speaks with mock concern.
❛ but you know, i’ll keep a secret. ❜
❛ ---- i think you underestimate how easily i could make you leave. ❜ COLD & ROUGH : her tone is stern, unwavering ------ laced with truth, a faint glow of blue from the nucleus of her palms. statement devoid of threat, notion benign. he could be gone. he could be. a snap of her fingers & a lift of her hands ? the power is hers just as much as it is his. yet she doesn’t protest. not really ------ not as she reaches for the fingers at her cheek, reassigning his touch to the swell of her throat. a dare.
❛ you’re here because i’m allowing it. ❜
RIOTCUT.
IT’S HIS NATURE TO BURN. but his instinct to burn others. the swift, silent victory resounds peacefully between them : and in turn, his smile his reckless. up, up, up - his eyes aren’t shy, his collective stature merely entertained. extending forward and swooping attire off the crystal cloor, he pivots with a nonchalance alike to his calloused indifference - but not without some form of mischief to follow him.
a hand out, careless as he was bold, brushing flat across her hip in mock comfort. ❛ there, there. happy as a bee. you can stop moaning now, i guess. ❜
GOOSEBUMPS ERUPT IN WAVES. decorating porcelain in the wake of his touch, coaxing the instinctive twist of abdomen -------- knotting in her girth, accompanying a stiff intake of breath. one arm wonders upward, upward, flattening against her chest : a poor attempt at coverage. she needs a shirt. but her feet won’t let her move.
❛ moaning ? quit jerking yourself off ; you’re exhausting. ❜
RIOTCUT.
❛ ——— yes, thank you. my shirt. ❜
❛ ——— hey now. i didn’t incite anything about stripping but you brought it up to start with. stop with the mixed signals. can’t tell if you want to make out or strangle me. ❜
❛ fine. take it. ❜ A BREATH, SILENCE ; actions don’t follow words, not immediately, & the delay is THICK with anticipation. tension. a combination of the two. yet ---- finally ---- fingers curl into fabric, tugging up, up, up. exposing inch by painful inch bare skin before she TOSSES the shirt to the floor between them.
❛ happy ? now stop whining. it's a shirt ❜