#melanclia

[demonform-a]

@melanclia ♡’d for a dumb starter !!

“do you mind shutting the fuck up? i’m trying to read.”

[obciidian-archived]

❛ You’re a long way from home. ❜ ( for ilseong !

the lumineers   /   not accepting   /   @melanclia​

      tell him something that he doesn’t know. home holds varied definitions and to each individual it differs. to him that is not a place of warmth and covet, naught but animosity and iniquity reside in what he once used to call his home and now salvaged from his roots until he no longer could remember the scent of alcohol reeking from his father’s clothes that used to be scattered across the floor. if only he could forget his face. 

      the sentiments of dolor and anger wrapped in colossal melancholy overwhelm him whenever he hears the word home. a trigger can be the best for of articulation for that circumstantial sensation – nothing but an opprobrious trigger to his jaded soul. and he often finds himself dwelling on these sensations way more than he should until his mind is clouded with inauspicious darkness containing none but petulance. and once pulled back into reality only then does ilseong realize how saturnine he appears to be (for holding his emotions from showing on his habitually imperturbable countenance is a task a little too laborious to perform) just to instantly endeavor to convert his expression to something more mollified, as if he wasn’t just dwelling on his victimized ache. and he was.    ❛  it’s okay. i’m a tough guy,  ❜    merely a nursling – a youngster who is insensible and aimless in life -- it, without his mental faculties, typically result of violence or intoxication -- mostly, towards himself solely. perhaps he can propitiate the situation slightly and offer something similar to a smile – evidently obligated, unwilling, unnatural. yet, at least with good intentions.

       ❛  you don’t have to worry about me.  ❜

[obciidian-archived]

( ✂ ) one muse puts a band-aid on the other’s cut. ( for ilseong !

acts of affection   /   not accepting   /   @melanclia 

      there is a saying that goes – old habits die hard. one can attempt, even endeavor to fix ignominious demeanor solely to fall onto a perpetuation of unbefitting conducts. self destructive ways are so characteristic to this boy, that in days when he is unharmed – somewhat, that is extraordinary. and furthermore, it becomes bewildering that he hasn’t gotten into menace or harmed himself (perhaps even others in the process) to an extent such a thing seems like a myth. the substantiate unfold behind such noxious ways a young soul such as ilseong’s carries remains buried beneath of ruins which once formed a heart – behind walls over walls of thorn made for protection ; from himself or other, it doesn’t matter. critically to articulate why he is the way he is – ilseong holds absolutely zero self restrainments : he’s quietude is wild and perilous just as a predator and the prey is havoc. just like a wild, untameable storm consuming anything along its path that is the spirit this young boy possesses. if it were up to him, it would include himself – he’s filled with such excessive amount of self loathing that he practically drips and reeks of rancour, and there are no methods of healing – many have tried and failed miserably, it’s futile. he’s prone to lugubriousness.     ❛  you know you don’t have to do this, right?  ❜    says the youngster who came to her bruised and cut. this morbid animosity that he senses towards the entire world and himself leads towards disastrous repercussions. and now bruised as per usual, he’s left with naught actions to perform to soothe his ache… and it isn’t solely the physical type of ache he dwells on. merely a tender and ostensibly solicitude filled touch is what gets him back on his feet. well, metaphorically speaking. being cared for is a foreign concept which he’s yet to experience (thanks for his refractory inclination to deny) and he must avow, even if it merely in the back of his mind because god forbid he ever expresses any sentiment other than wrath, that being nurtured and taken care of isn’t as bad as he always thinks of it. yet, he is vulnerable – albeit, na hui’s hands are as delicate as he’d imagine in his wildest dreams and the freshly bleeding bruises he’s collected do not ache as much as they used to prior to her attention. perhaps all that this boy (desperately) needs is a little bit of positive regard for once… slight amount of validation along with a bit of covet would prosper his cultivation. little does he know, that without frowned eyebrows and a grisly gaze reflecting none but iniquity there is so much like this which he can achieve. even the softest smile which he forces on his lips that given moment cannot conceal the broken soul within his gaunt physique.    ❛  i’m sorry for making you do this...  ❜

[96hnbn]

“ if it comes back, it’s probably going to kill you. ”

Staring at her, Hanbin found himself speechless for a bit. They were standing there in the dark, both frozen as they stared at the bushes that made an odd sound not too long ago. “Okay that’s SO not the right thing to say right now.” he complained with a tone of horror to his voice. “What’s to say it won’t come back to kill you, hmm?” he questioned, giving the brunette a sideways look before smirking, even though she was definitely a bit shaken.  

[aceocian]

Let me out of here and I swear I will not tell anyone.

sentence starters ‣ accepting.

[ † ] — “ no, listen to me. ”

he wants to pull her in. he wants to, but he’s not going to. frankly, that’s disrespectful and there are other ways to do so without using his hands. he’s thinking about it. and while he’s thinking, his feet are tightly secured around one of her ankles, and if she dares get up, she’ll break her nose.

and god, he doesn’t feel like cleaning up a bloody scene, not in his tent. he doesn’t even own a first-aid kit. or a mop. or skills to move broken bones back into place.

“ just listen, ma’am. “

he’s pleading; again. he doesn’t want her to break her nose, and he doesn’t want her to get up, or get out. or speak. they were just staring at each other, across a tiny table crammed with dollar store fortune-telling doodads. the plastic stools could barely hold their weight, but it was sufficient. the ground was covered in tarot cards and vintage posters; each showing stereotypical female mediums with long, red nails encircling a crystal ball. that was going to be him one day, when he gets a real crystal ball, that shows the real future.

but until then, the magic eight ball was more than enough.

“ it’s going to cost extra to get out of here. “

the problem. he couldn’t look at her in the eyes. not after this. the problem. trust wasn’t the thing stopping him from letting her go, he did need the extra money. especially after THE PROBLEM. how was he going to buy a new pair of pants?

“ i want to apologize, but this wasn’t intentional, so i wouldn’t be genuine. sorry about that. “

the problem, a three-act story: 

1. being too greedy.2. letting in another client instead of taking a break.3. not holding in the need to pee.moral of the story-- hydration is bad. 

[luculcnt]

❝ i don’t really blame you for being dead but you can’t have your sweater back. ❞ ( for jaehyun !

richard siken sentence starters.STATUS: accepting.MUSE: jaehyun.

IT WAS HIS FAVORITE SWEATER     a simple, plain black turtleneck, a bit baggy for comfort. jaehyun wonders what he’d been thinking when he agreed to let her borrow it. for one, their relationship still levels on a first name basis; they hardly know each other. the only explanation must be the ridiculous soft spot he’s been CURSED with for a cute girl     he’ll literally give the clothes off his back for one who asks. exhibit A. 

regardless, how CRUEL can she be to refuse to return the sweater even if he’s “ DYING “, albeit figuratively. the chill in the air is sharp and brutal, but he doesn’t have the heart to argue for it back, either. a casual shrug makes known his carelessness to bother. ❛  whatever, keep it.❜  if he’s to be honest with himself, it looks cuter hanging loosely over on her small frame, and he can’t even be mad. what’d be considered a slip of the tongue by anyone else, jaehyun spills the flirtatious remark as NATURALLY as it comes to him. ❛  as long as you wear it often, and think of me while you’re at it.❜  

[luculcnt]

❝ you didn’t show up. i kept waiting. ❞( for choa !

richard siken sentence starters.STATUS: accepting.MUSE: choa.

❛  I’M SO SORRY.❜  choa certainly hadn’t purposely stood up her friend on their preplanned lunch date. the sucky part about being in college is that time often creeps AWAY from students, especially in the case of one majoring in medicine. she’d silently hope that the other girl would be understanding of the reason, from one student to another. the constant exams, assignments and studying wears her down until she’s almost NOTHING but a human obstacle on the floor     or WHEREVER she so happens to drop. the several hours of focusing on one task must’ve exhausted her more than she had realized. napping was a DANGEROUS game     she never could know whether she’d wake up in fifteen minutes or ten hours. although she’s discovering that, usually, it’s the latter. 

her palms come together in a pleading gesture, expression genuinely apologetic. ❛  i really meant to only take a short THIRTY minute nap but i must’ve slept right through the alarm. do you hate me? i’ll make it up to you, i PROMISE❗❜

[luculcnt]

❝ who am i? i’m just a writer. i write things down. ❞ ( for kukjo !

richard siken sentence starters.STATUS: accepting.MUSE: kukjo.

THE DEMON POSSESSES nil interest in whatever would have driven the bold human to approach him in the first place. if he had held any expectations or intrigue at all, the answer would’ve been a disappointment. just a writer. how insanely MUNDANE and boring, he thinks, but it comes as no real surprise. another drag of the cigarette that rests between two slender fingers is the SO-CALLED “ writer’s “ cue to get lost, black eyes retained forward at nowhere in particular, granting her zero of his attention with ease. the default body he currently, and most oftenly, occupies hasn’t been subject to this sort of curiosity before; how PECULIAR. kukjo’s patience wears thin over the course of seconds as the clueless woman continues to stand there, seemingly waiting on him to acknowledge that information.

if it’ll get her to LEAVE     the tone of his retort is laced with coldness and snark. ❛  a writer? my sincerest apologies to hear that. if you’re searching for something noteworthy to report i’d suggest pursuing ELSEWHERE.❜