#desperatous

[liberons]

⌜     (     STARTER  CALL     )   ▷▷            ❛    FT.   FRANKIE   !       @desperatous​​    :

their  home  was  only   starting   its  decent  into  vacuity ,    and   yet  ,               it felt anything but.    as if the simplicity behind it had erupted  /  as had always been their way :  nebulous  &  cataclysmic.    he knew.     standing here now,   levi isn’t sure why he ever expected much else.    sable quicksand was a  bootstrap  impossibility to escape from.    they knew.          ❛    is that it for our room ?    ❜     he asks,  turning to where frankie was packing.   his steps inch closer with an instinctive reach—  stopping just short of her back,  right where her hair usually drapes to an end.    right .   now’s not the time to  test  their waters.    his fingers curl together,  and he wraps a hand over the  fist  it creates,  glancing back at the bed.        ❛     should we bring our own sheets . . . ?   ❜

[destructivour-aa]

hey hold my hand, bro, it's important :/

crams  his hand into hers       B/

[lunima]

// ☾ STARTER CALL  ⇢ @desperatous

" ––––– I  might  have  done  something  really  stupid. ”  she admits over a steaming cup of tea .  binding a possibly hostile spirit to ones self with blood was not her brightest idea to date ( though it was certainly her most creative and magically ambitious )  said spirit was lurking around her shop, likely introducing himself to the salamander that heated her stove while she chatted with her friend.  “ Or  incredibly  noble  and  kindhearted.  I  can’t  decide. ”

[nobledied-blog]

          “ I...I think I broke it, I’m sorry, ”  she looked like a sad, guilty pup.

|| @desperatous ||

[liberons]

ﾟ 〢    ✕    //     ⸻                ⌜   @desperatous​ ⌟       asked   :

fingers catch his wrist, dirt stained and snaring. her movements are purposeful, no hesitation as she slides between the horses flanking them and presses him back a little against the still equine. around them, chaos. the nervous hymn of troops ready to battle, but she's tacked her horse next to his on purpose, to give this fleeting, silent moment. "i don't need to say it," but she's going to. optimism is not a strength of hers, but she feigns a light smile. "be careful, levi ... i love you."

                                how   did   he   think   it   would    feel  ,                to have the weighted heaviness anchoring down at his  chest ,   for once ?   that dreadful nightingale’s song,   hanging  in the echoes of the night.    but its beats are  jagged  in rhythmic freedom.    grave  &  uneven beneath the screams  &  chaos that surround him.    the wind blows in another long,   tragic hiss and he fears that creeping,   careful hesitation ;   that magnetic pull .    the jinx of tragedy that  simmers  in his blood.    how did it feel ?   filling   /  whole.  earthy.  dry.    enough to lose  sense  of why else his chest would be beating this way.   forgetting his old panic.    enduring this one in its stead .

death had taught levi how to spot the fissures in those around him.    to  predict  how long it would take before their skin is nothing but cracks.    frankie had been  filled  with fractures since the moment they met.    and now she’s somehow here .    diamond - green eyes as resolute as the  invasive  species she’s proven to be.    hiding nothing under the frenzy of laughter  &  lascivious desire.    those words fill him deep and he grabs her in that same  frenzy.    frenzy not met by the usual sting of his shoulder blades.   he breaks around her in nonverbal response of the weight she’s swallowed in him.   ‘ i love you ’   /   against a wall   /   teeth grazing your lower lip,   ‘ i love you  ’  /   against my skin / fingers wrapped   /   around your hair.     ‘  be careful  ’   /   in the gentle breath   / that softens slowed movement,   brushing sweet down to her neck,   eyes locked in hers.

he doesn’t need to say it .    she didn’t need to,   either.    he didn’t need to accept her advances and she didn’t need to give them to him.    what good could it do ,  he asks.    it’s a death trap ,   he thinks.    there’s no point ,   but ,        ❛     . . .   i love you too ,    ❜      he tells her,   and hates how his steps  stutter  drawing back.

[destructivour-aa]

is smooching his toe beans allowed? 👌🙊😭❤

💖💖💖💖  sure, if you wanna fuckin die   💖🐱🔪💖

@desperatous

[liberons]

there's a pizza box on the table, surrounded by candles and pink rose petals. red heart-shaped napkins are spread neatly over valentine's day themed place-mats, and a decent bottle of wine rests next a messily wrapped gift. she moves around the room, matches sparking between her fingertips as the door creaks open and an excited grin stretches across her features. he barely has time to take his shoes off before she's yanking him into the room and pointing towards the decorated table. "surprise!"

〢▓█  ✕   𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐓   ▷▷     @desperatous

                            nothing but an opium solution  :  she     is venom leaked into his river styx  /  guttering addiction  /  oh,  how he soaks her up.   less  &  less rigid,  at loss  /  losing until he drinks her relentlessly  /  and the liquid only makes him more parched.    tangled by her lotus leaves .   he stands stirred by her vortex of passion,  shaken silly by such simple an act of  compassion .   his  venus  night  trap ,  pulling temptation of skin  &  bones.   her foolhardy heart has him wrapped around her fingers ;  finally  fallen  to her curse and having spent too long without sign of soil since.

❛   you …   ❜     his voice tampers off,  unsure of where exactly it began.   he’d barely thought of the holiday—of what exactly that  meant .   so  unused  to this state of closure.   he all but surveys the scene,  coughing reflection :       ❛   surprised you did all this without breaking anything.   ❜     he says.   his chin tilts a crooked eye up,  as if assessing whether she was about to delve into some  ulterior motive .   but he forgets that initial suspicion with the shut of his eyes  /  heavy of hidden emotion.   he twists a hand out in favour of reaching for her skin ;  heated gypsum under freckled reform  /  flickering  spice  in cherry red light .   he brushes back those fallen strands to leave bare the skin of her neck,  soon hidden by the hold of curled digits.   so smooth to his touch  /  body heat’s radiance welcomed in his own  brumal  bite.   as if fighting for more reach,  his thumb reaches  &  skims,  brushing over her lips before begging them down to his.    he presses sweet a few seconds before parting movements draw him back.   his eyes open slow to offer proper response now that his mind has cleared of its quiet hysteria,  lightest glint of  love  in silver reflection.       ❛   happy valentine’s.  ❜

[lunima]

// ☾ ; BELLS JINGLE OMINOUSLY IN THE DISTANCE ⇢ @desperatous

HER BROW IS FURROWED AS SHE STARES AT THE LIST IN HER HANDS. The ink has nearly soaked through the parchment from all of her scribbling. None of it is familiar though and she wonders if she’s not making it all up. Personalities bled and warped across her fragile memory, twisting fact with fiction until she was left confused and frustrated to tears. Her friends were strangers now, their hopes and dreams and desires once cherished were scattered like ashes to the wind, slipping from grasping fingers.

❝ –––––– Erm, did I used to remember this stuff...? I mean, what everyone wanted for the midwinter festival? I-I feel like I should know this. . . but. . .  ❞  She mumbles, digging the heel of her palm against her forehead. Sometimes she feels as if she’s just pretending to know these people, though her heart begs to differ.