#mariicn

[u0lee-blog]

starter for ; @mariicn

「🍭」”You’re kind of in my way..”

[platycodons-blog]

mariicn replied to your post: Toy Story 2 was okay.

No. Blocked.

What? Did you think it was awful?

Or are you upset I insulted your waifu Jessie?

[platycodons-blog]

mariicn replied to your post “mariicn replied to your post: mariicn replied to...”

[[WaIT IS HE EDDIE REDMAYNE OR WHATEVER

dont talk to me who i originally wanted was jim rash but he’s bald so it doesn’t fucking work

[luxinexitium]

“then you tell me why.”

five-word starters / accepting! / @mariicn​

it happens so quickly that he can’t tell if it’s even real. 

he knows that the parade of rabbits, traipsing single-file across the moon’s silvery plains, is not real. neither are the whistling street lamps, with their rhythmic dips and sways, nor is the school of twisting trout in their tailoured three-piece suits, no matter how lively their breakroom gossip may sound. those things aren’t real; they aren’t here. distracting as they may be, however, he can always find comfort in knowing that the universe isn’t falling to shambles just yet, that these glimpses into other lifetimes are just that–glimpses. he’ll take a perpetual, pounding migraine over losing grip on the right reality any day. 

so when the mass of flesh and bone plunges into the pavement just inches from his feet, he dismisses the staccato crunch of contorted limbs as just another illusion, until he feels the cold splash of blood against his shoes. some of it reaches as high as the tips of his fingers, staining alabaster skin in a vibrant crimson, and he can feel his lungs sinking to the very pit of his stomach as realisation slams into his shaking form. it’s real. she’s real. 

his gaze flits between the feathery snowflakes catching onto tangled tresses and the splash of vermilion across the pavement, a combination of colour and numbing familiarity that he never thought he’d see again. it’s only the crunch of snow that manages to break his attention, just enough to lift his gaze from the prone corpse, and he finds a stranger standing on the opposite side of the twisted body. with breathing as difficult as it is, never mind the harsh nip of winter’s wind, he doesn’t have the sense to read the stranger’s expression, nor has he ever held the pleasure of graceful conversation skills. in silence, he locks gazes with the other man and fights to swallow the fistful of freezing air in his throat, voice raw and only barely audible over the restless breeze that dances across their shoulders. 

“why..?” is the only word he can manage before choking on his own tongue. he can feel his fingers trembling even after curling them into his palm, nails gnawing through flesh. why did this happen? is what he’d meant to ask. or perhaps why here? why were ten storeys and a slab of concrete the means to an end? 

“weren’t you here first?” comes the stranger’s reply. “then you tell me why.” 

all kyungsoo can respond with is a whispered i don’t know, before the syllables are stolen by the ticking of a wristwatch and the endlessly roiling wind.

[draugrxxsoo-blog]

“You look like you could use a hand.” There's a curl at Marion's lips, the words more belittling than kind as dark hues glisten with amusement. Rather than extending a kind hand towards the other, he kept himself perched away, fingers laced and folded in front of him.

SEND ONE IF WE HAVEN’T INTERACTED

                  “You look like you could use a hand.”

     It was late at night and Kyungsoo had been going in and out of bars, drinking the night away. This was his usual routine nowadays ever since he came back and it only had gotten worse as the days went by. He tried very hard to avoid his emotions, the ones he had left that is. He drank until he couldn’t feel a thing, and by that time he couldn’t even tell if his legs were moving when he walked, or if someone happen to bump into him he didn’t feel the clash between two shoulders. His breath was entrenched in liquor, however that didn’t mean the vampire was acting like a complete mortal when they get drunk.  Kyungsoo knew what he was doing, and saw the people around him. He just didn’t want to feel anything for awhile, after all the last year he’s felt a lot of things, most of which was pain and hope. Feelings he hasn’t felt ever since he was a human, but those feelings tend to linger after he had gotten so used to feeling it day by day for an entire year.    The vampire had just walked out from another bar, tipping over and being obnoxious but again he knew very well what he was doing. He didn’t mind blending in with the humans, he didn’t mind letting himself go. As he managed to step out of the building, his legs were obviously struggling to keep his upper half from toppling over but the blood sucker didn’t care and he let himself collapse on the ground onto his behind, head resting against the brick wall.  “You look like you could use a hand”  Soo’s head perked up at the voice that spoke to him, from the looks of it the male’s words contradicted his actions. As he could see the other’s arms weren’t as open to him as any other human’s would be. He let out a small chuckle, not caring if someone else was treating him in a rudely manner but that didn’t mean that it didn’t annoy him. “Fuck off kid. Trust me. I don’t need your help, especially if you’re just going to be a dick.” He gritted his teeth as he arose from the floor, almost as if the drunk, emotional and tipsy Kyungsoo was all just an act for himself.

[r-omanov]

@mariicn​:

Parties had never been Junho’s forte. Truthfully, he’s not a social person, regardless of his love for the limelight. He favored adulation and afar admiration, not social interaction and the frivolous use of creating temporary bonds.

The light of his phone illuminated the highlights of his sharp features, his eyes concentrated upon the silver screen before him as he scrolled down the endless print of minuscule, black lettering. Secluded on the farthest booth, the brunet had came simply for bragging rights, to add upon the importance on his already notable name as he found himself pressed firmly in the circle of entertainment figures as they celebrated the launch of–whatever the project had been.

“Right. I suppose we should blame hormones for your promiscuity then?” He jabbed back, snapping eyes from his mobile device to raise a challenging brow, “Anyway, I highly doubt anyone would care for your actions. It’s already known at this rate that you are a whore.”

She was only here because of her friend but any excuse to be out of the house and away from Celine’s nagging was enough. A cigarette between her fingers, she was dressed to the nines in a figure hugging dress and a leather jacket – perfectly befitting on her rock band lead singer status, though TrinityX had no significance in this commercial music industry.

“Oh, stop being such a dick, Junho,” she scoffed, already accustomed to his blunt attitude, “This is exactly why you don’t get laid. A girl can’t even have a decent conversation without wanting to kick you in the balls.” Resting back against the couch, she took a long drag of her cigarette before swirling the smoke between the red painted lips. Dark eyes explored the rest of the club; heavy dance music, bodies that never seemed to part and a few scantily clad bar girls here to make a few extra bucks. That was her too on some weekends.

“As I was saying, you really can’t find any excitement in fucking the same people over and over,” she explained, flicking her cigarette to tap against the ash tray, “It’s like a pattern, really – make out, get naked, suck a cock, fuck. Everyone has their own method and it gets so repetitive.” Vivi shrugged, “I may be a whore, but at least I’m not a bore.”