#glaswen

[noxpraelia]

colliding with a wall, then each other's lips. Heheh

‪‪❤︎‬ ˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 & 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 !    (  a  collection  of  75+ kisses.   feel free to specify the initiating muse.   potentially mature content within.  UPDATED 02/25 !  )

Salt. Copper. Dirt.

What she first tastes on her tongue. She almost spits it out on HIS face, but this obscure, brackish wine is perpetually essential to their ritual. Their ceremonial dance of fists, words, fang and claw; poignant violence. Her heart fucking ACHES, R A G E S--This is all a cruel joke threaded in gold and blood.

The maestro poses, their strings are pulled, and the show must go on.

A gasp escapes her, wind knocked out from the impact of colliding with the wall along with her tussle demon. He grunts in return, tit-for-tat. They are a palette of each other's marks, blood and bruises to tell all. One eye of hers is closed, slightly swollen. A nail broken (shame). The demon bears a busted lip with a shit-eating grin (pain), gold and blood adoring his face like war paint or an ascension to some unholy divinity; he could steal her away and she'd let him.

The strings are taught. In this brief reprieve. To tug back against what pulls; a step of many, a fight to take back what once was theirs.

She can see him. Oh, Gods. Like a pale minnow in black waters. Like an eidolon she'd had spoken to many a times in the morning dawn of winter's regret. Faint. A glimmer. A glimpse. There, there, there!

I see you!

Salt. Copper. Cinnamon.

Their lips mesh, violent than any fist swung, tender than any words spat. Coffin kisser. Corpse lover. Divinity blessing such desecration. Bruised fingers tangle themselves in his hair, his form pressing against hers. Another brief reprieve this time to their voracity, she pulls his head back slightly, her breath mingling with his own as a howling blizzard meets stormy seas at midnight.

It was like candle wax melting.

All of him, all of him.

Copper. Cinnamon. Sludge.

She crashes her lips with his, can feel his hesitance and in that second she flips him to have his back now pressed against the wall. The impact like an adrenaline shot, an echo of heretofore as he returns it. A ghost within a ghost. She can feel his arms squeeze her tighter, hands that yearn to roam like second nature and grip something fierce. She kisses him deeper, arms around his neck like a noose, tip of her tongue daring to part his lips to taste him better.

She likes it.

I see all of you...

Copper. Cinnamon. Sludge, sludge, sludge...

[stankycowboy]

"Stop licking the damn thing!"

The squeaking demand is just heard over the sound of the hungry creature dragging the finger bones of a dead man over his teeth; the grating scrap of each digit de-fleshed by his fangs loud in his own ears. Severen is distracted from the activity by the man’s shout. A confusing request, as he would have expected the complaint to be less specific. ‘Stop killing everyone!’, ‘Let me go!’, or the favorite of most: ‘Why are you doing this?’ He looks up to lock eyes with the frazzled, cowering man complaining at the far side of the room. He’d nearly forgotten there was someone still living. This one would be a more succulent treat than those that littered the floor between them. The dead were a fine source of sustenance, but it was hard to beat the freshly pumping blood of the living—especially one so fearful.  “But I was jus’ gettin’a the good part”, he falsely whines, following it up with a pout of his bottom lip and a howling laugh that brings to mind starved coyotes on the open plain. Thusly locked onto his next target, Severen rises from his haunches and begins to close the distance, each step punctuated by the hollow “CLINK” of his spurs. “You mi’hght be right though…” the flesh eater sighs, licking at his own hands now, enjoying the textured chew of the coagulated gore coating them, “I should stop”.

Standing before the huddled man, Severen slowly bows over to put his face just before the other’s, breath cold and rotten. “So’s I c’n start with you”.

[shoegazekid]

#246 inc: @mooninjunetyo @Venera4band @blankenbergerus @sfbalms & #glaswen #shoegaze

[noxpraelia]

“So, you’re kissing people?” He’s going to sneak in here too and take his chances. “Got one more for me?”

A 'tch' escapes her, lips pursing into a wry smile, ❝ Fuck, you just missed it. But, hang on. I got something special for you. ❞ Keep it in your pants, it's not like that.

Instead, she rummages through her jacket pocket, ❝ Hope I didn't drop it-Oop, there it is. ❞

She pulls out her pale fist, upturning it with a singular middle digit extended upward and a smile to show behind it.

[stankycowboy]

❝ are you stalking me or something? ❞  

Severen tosses his head with a laugh, no longer feigning deception. "Nah, I just don't like leavin' things unfinished". He closes the calculated distance between them all too quickly, grabbing the man's shoulder, grip firm, the squeeze intensifying as his smile extends. "It'd keep me up all day", the expression of offense or apprehension that once had been clear to Severen on the face of the unlucky individual blurs as all he can see now is meat. Striking forward he latches down with his monstrous jaws on his target, ready to drain the unfortunate dry. Stalking him? That was the least of the poor man's fears.

[stankycowboy]

@glaswen asked: 🩸 56. Bloodlust

The sun had set, the night come anew, and with it woke the creature whose hunger was never fully satisfied. Rising out of the cramped confines of his daytime seclusion, Severen savors the first breath of fresh air. He clambers out of their stolen accommodations ahead of the others, planning to be out the longest; a feeling of particular insatiability surfacing tonight. He doesn’t spare the rest any words—this time is his own—and he has every intention to make the most of it. 

They parked themselves within the city limits, a risky venture, but Severen is glad for it; heady with the smell of fresh game none the wiser. There is a sharp smell to the wet streets, the heat dissipating in the cool dark. His spurs chime in time with the heavy click of his boots on the slick pavement.

The monster is out to prowl.

There are stragglers aplenty weaving their way down sidewalks under the halogen glow— he lets them by. Just one won’t do tonight. Populated venues always pose a more entertaining challenge; not only a meal, but a show to boot. But while there is always fun to be had, he still keeps an eye out for the seedier places, dive bars, head shops, someplace where exits are few and people take problems into their own hands.

He stops in front of a diner all aglow in neon. The late night greasy spoon is ponderous, the few tables and stools scattered with souls lost to work,  drink, or otherwise; in short, it was his kind of crowd. With a terrible, sickle shaped grin he approaches the finger smudged door and pushes through into the hot, pungent air. A bell announces him, a distracted waitress acknowledges his presence with words alone.

“Sit where ya like, be right wit’cha”, her statement interspersed by audible gum chewing.

Severen quietly reaches behind him and locks the door, then does as asked. He saunters slowly down the main aisle, surveying the small crowd with delight, already feeling their lives extinguishing beneath his hands, their life’s blood coating his mouth and throat. Anticipation feeds the fire and he is fairly abuzz with the sensation of it, but he isn’t ready to start, not yet, he can wait a little longer. A particularly wan fellow catches his glinting eye and Severen seats himself, theatrically, on the stool beside him.

“That any good?” He asks indicating with a pointed finger the spread before the man, knowing it would be shit either way, merely enjoying taunting his prey. He hides the frenzied eagerness from all but his eyes, sharply focused and blazing blue. A coffee mug is set before Severen even without his asking and the waitress, plump, short, hair in a messy stranglehold at the top of her head, asks in a bored droll “What’ll it be hun?”

“I’ll take whatever he’s havin’!” Severen replies in an energetic tone that has more menace than joy, nudging his forced companion in the ribs with an elbow and a laugh.

“Sum night, huh?”

It would only be getting better.

[noxpraelia]

“ say my name. ” ( hM )

first time nsfw sentence  starters !

pls have mercy. ..

Salacious dreams (Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming, thinking; they always were) bear licentious fruit. A bite of sweet flesh. A taste of salt and heat. Rapacious hands roaming, seeking, yearning.

Russet pools with ebony, noses touching and lips never parting. He scratches pallid skin with stubble, she doesn’t fucking care. His hands go to her back, pressing her closer (coalesced; a mess, evanesce into one another) and for a moment she freezes, the scars screaming at her in algid howls.

But he kisses her deeply and she melts in his lips; his embrace, in him. A soft moan of pleasure is swallowed by him as he is swallowed by her. Rolling of hips as she rises to meet him and his rhythm.

Faster. Harder. D E E P E R.

Winterborne eyes aglow, dazzling like illuminated aquamarines that shame the stars bleeding in midnight silky skies; the radiance dances across his heated skin, a common unnatural natural phenomenon. She moans more, each louder than the last, neighbors be damned if they fucking heard their sinner sonnet. She’s lost in the symphony, the crashing of waves, the crescendo that wasn’t too far off-A peek at his face, blue seeking blue, a desire so profound as slickness and rigid is apparent and another round is bound to start.

She moans into a small whimper, so very small and faint but in this house of cards it was all he needed. Sapphire to obsidian, borrowed power trembling in those hands that held her hips, digits digging into bone, “Say my name.”

Breathy. Husky. Him all the same no matter the fucking look.

Vituperate words swirl in her parched mouth and die in her sore throat, a thorny retort lost amidst the bliss. Beneath him she lays, movements stilled and pants shared between both. Breasts tremble as her abdominal muscles strain-And she smirks. 

“Make me.”

Cold spectrum flickers, she can hear him smirk in return and her own is wiped off as he pulls out without warning. Shudders of pleasure and disappointment course through her, the latter in a yelp. No coherent thought formed (the start of ‘that’s all?’ long gone), her legs thrown over his shoulders in one sudden motion as hot breath fans between.

Oh.

Oh~.

[noxpraelia]

incorrect quotes of your muse and mine @glaswen