#lustsolaris

[thecrimsonmonster-a]

Would you ever accept Father into your life, in exchange for becoming a Sin's vessel?

"Since this sounds like some sort of recruitment tactic in order to get me to join a cult, the answer would be no.”

[thesaiyanprince]

Lavender eyes illuminated from the darkness, scanning the shorter figure before her, though not completely unimpressed by the stature. A crooked grin accompanied her gaze as a low chuckle rumbled in her throat. This man was not human, perhaps? Either way, that aura around him was enough to make Lust's mouth water.

The chuckle was what he heard first. Turning, he scanned the area around him and sensed a rather bizarre energy. It nearly felt as if it was more than one person combined into one but that didn't make the slightest sense to him. Pinpointing her direction, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared into the darkness. "What do you want?" 

[littlesandmonster]

+5

fragileyandere

shxsui

lust-solaris

axphonse

the-apprentice-markl

"Hello." The young redhead put on his most friendly expression, though the shyness was evident in his soft voice. "It's nice to meet you..my name's Gaara..are you looking for father?"

[uchihamother-blog]

flower-royale

lust-solaris

bialatebull

yourangryginger

tsuki-no-hito

— { ♣ } — "What's that supposed to mean, hm?"

[fierykage]

HELLO

If we kissed:

[] This wouldn’t happen.

[] Oh disgusting.

[] Again, again.

[x] Kiss you back.

[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.

[] Slap/Push you away.

[x] Be confused

If you asked me out I’d say:

[] Um no.

[] I’m taken-

[x] Sure.

[] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.

Can we cuddle?:

[] No.

[] Ew.

[x] Sure.

[] YES.

Sex?:

[x] Let’s do it.

[] No. You can’t handle my d.

[] FUCK YES.

[] No.

Should you reblog this?:

[] Yes. I want to send you one.

[x] Yes.

[] No.

[thecrimsonmonster-a]

"black bird"

Send me “black bird” for a darker memory of my muse’s past

“Zolf J. Kimbley, also known as the Crimson Alchemist.”

The accused figure stood in the center of the room, shoulders hunched forward, his hands bound tight behind his back as the bright light flared down upon him, as though he were the main actor in a bad drama, positioned center stage. He stared up through his tousled bangs at the men in blue all lined up neatly in front of him, sitting high above him behind dark brown, oaken desks. Their faces were shrouded in darkness, which only added to the intrigue of it all.

Too bad he was distracted by the romanticism of it all, as his mouth was parched and his wrists ached.

“For the war crimes you committed during the Ishvalan War—including but not limited to the murder of fifteen low-ranking soldiers, three of your commanding officers, one fellow State Alchemist, and creating unnecessary civilian causalities once a ceasefire had been declared—you are hereby stripped of your rank, dishonorably discharged, and sentenced to death.”

Death, huh?

He knew it should startle him, and yet it seemed so… expected.

“Are there any objections to this sentence?”

No one spoke.

“Then I hereby close this trial. Take him away.”

The soldiers had Kimbley boxed in at all sides as they took him from the inner chambers of Central command, through the dimly-lit corridors, and out the back exit. No one wanted to view the shameful monster that had taken the lives of so many innocents. It was a war—we had no choice! was the cry of the people of Amestris, grasping for a way out of their guilt. But what he did was reprehensible!

They had very little idea of the true meaning behind the Ishvalan War, of course.

—Massacre, Kimbley would always think to himself, a bit of glee bubbling in the pit of his stomach. It had been nothing but a spree of mindless slaughter that all of the State Alchemists had taken a part of.

Yet while all of them became war heroes for reigning in the brown-skinned devils, he became the villain in their little play for “taking it too far.”

It didn’t matter now, though.

His role would soon be ending, it seemed.

The drive to the correctional center was utterly silent. He pondered what death row would be like. He had been in the highest tier of the juvenile detention center he had been placed in when he was younger, and that had seemed hellish.

But in hindsight, he knew he had been considered a child then, and those under a certain age were not treated like bloodthirsty animals. They were just “misguided.” They could be “cured.” They made “mistakes.”

He knew death row would not be so merciful.

He could easily imagine having a room all to himself with nothing but a hard mattress, a pot to piss in, and four walls that closed in on him tighter and tighter each day. The food would be bitter or stale and always in short supply. Hunger would gnaw at him like a starving dog. His wrists would have permanent red scars from their binding. And there was very little doubt in his mind that his interactions with the officers would be brutal.

He was a vicious beast that needed to be tamed, after all.

And then, when the time finally came, he’d step up on that platform and get a pretty red ring around his throat to match the ones on his wrists—a lovely necklace to wear before they skipped his funeral and thrust his wicked corpse into a dark, dirty hole.

If he had not already been insane, he was certain this would have done the trick.

[thecrimsonmonster-a]

♦

Send me ♦ and my muse will reveal what they find attractive about your muse.

"I’ve always been a fan of those tattoos you Homunculi have. And yours is in quite the, ah… interesting position.”