#wiltcdroses

[mcrtiferas]

@wiltcdroses

╰    ˟  ⊰   ━━━━    THE  ROOM  REEKED  OF  TEMPTATION.  a  low  haze  of  smoke  twisted  lazily  through  the  air,  catching  the  electric  shimmer  of  crimson  &&  gold  lights  that  pulsed  like  a  heartbeat  above  the  crowd.  the  music  was  relentless,  basslines  so  deep  they  seemed  to  crawl  under  your  skin  &&  settle  in  the  hollow  of  your  chest.  bodies  swayed  together  in  a  fevered  rhythm,  hands  grasping,  lips  grazing,  movements  blurring  the  line  between  pleasure  &&  sin.  the  club  was  a  living,  breathing  thing  —  a  beast  of  heat  &&  shadow.

                        she  leaned  against  the  bar,  half-wreathed  in  darkness,  her  drink  forgotten  in  her  hand.  a  curl  of  her  ink-black  hair  fell  across  her  shoulder,  brushing  bare  skin  that  glistened  faintly  under  the  low  light.  her  dress  was  a  second  skin,  the  fabric  clinging  in  all  the  right  places,  daring  anyone  to  look  —  &&  they  did.  eyes  followed  her  wherever  she  moved,  but  her  gaze  wasn’t  for  them.

no,  her  gaze  was  for  one  alone.

                        her  lips  curved  into  a  slow,  deliberate  smile  when  she  caught  sight  of  them  across  the  room,  their  figure  cutting  through  the  throng  like  a  knife  through  silk.  they  weren’t  trying  to  stand  out,  &&  yet  every  step  they  took  demanded  attention,  every  turn  of  their  head  made  the  air  in  the  room  seem  thinner.  they  were  magnetic,  INTOXICATING,  the  kind  of  person  who  drew  people  in  only  to  leave  them  gasping  for  breath.  &&  zephyr,  shameless  as  ever,  wanted  to  devour  them  whole.

                        the  distance  between  them  was  too  much.  she  set  her  glass  down,  the  faint  clink  of  it  drowned  out  by  the  pounding  music,  &&  began  to  move.  her  heels  clicked  against  the  sticky  floor,  her  path  slow  &&  deliberate,  like  she  wanted  them  to  feel  her  approach  before  they  even  saw  her.  the  crowd  shifted,  parting  for  her  without  even  realizing  they  were  doing  it.

                        when  she  reached  them,  she  didn’t  stop  until  the  space  between  them  was  barely  a  breath.  close  enough  that  her  perfume  —  smoke  &&  jasmine,  dark  &&  sweet  —  wrapped  around  them.  close  enough  that  she  could  feel  the  heat  of  their  body,  the  steady  rise  &&  fall  of  their  chest.  her  fingers  grazed  their  wrist,  a  touch  so  light  it  could  have  been  imagined,  but  it  wasn’t.

                        ❛ are  you  going  to  keep  staring,  or  are  you  going  to  do  something ? ❜ her  voice  dipped,  rich  &&  velvety,  wrapping  around  them  like  smoke.

[mcrtiferas]

CLOSED STARTER ;

@wiltcdroses liked x for a angsty & tearful reunion / lucien & cain

         ━━━━         THE STREETS ARE SLICK, rain pooling in the fractured pavement under the dim, sporadic glow of the lampposts. lucien greenwood stands with his back against the wall of a narrow alley, his shoulders hunched forward, face partially hidden under the hood of his jacket. the cold night presses into his skin, leaving a hollow ache that echoes the emptiness he’s tried to drown.

his fingers, trembling and raw, wrap around the last cigarette in his pockets. he lights it with a half-shaking hand, inhaling deeply as if it could chase away the cold, the hunger, the gnawing desperation that clings to his insides like tar.

lucien doesn’t remember exactly when he last saw cain, but he swears he can still feel the shadow of his touch — the soft warmth of a hand he once believed to be the only thing keeping him grounded. cain had been an anchor but in the end, there were too many broken promises, too many nights disappearing into the streets, lost to whatever would make the hurt go away. lucien had left. left so cain could live a life of stability while he allowed himself to drown.

he didn’t expect to see him tonight or... ever again, but he had heard the familiar scrape of boots against pavement and he doesn’t dare look up, afraid that it might be a trick of his mind. when the footsteps stop just a few feet away, however, and a voice — low, rough, achingly familiar — calls his name, lucien feels something crack open inside him. it’s like cain has reached in and yanked out the shards of himself he’s been trying to bury.

a bitter laugh, ragged and edged with a quiet kind of desperation leaves him. “didn’t think you’d ever find me.”

i didn’t think you’d come looking.

smoke curls from his lips as lucien keeps his gaze fixed on the ground. he wants to look at him, wants to drink in every detail he’s missed, but he’s afraid of what he’ll see. pity? disappointment? the remnants of a love he’s never been able to let go?

he can feel cain’s gaze on him, that heavy, searching look that used to strip away all the walls he built around himself. it’s UNBEARABLE. lucien’s hands shake around the cigarette as he takes another drag, swallowing hard as he feels a lump rise in his throat. the air is thick with things unspoken, years of regret and betrayal hanging between them like a storm.

“you look good.” the words come out forced, like glass in his mouth. he doesn't need to look to know it’s true; cain had always had a quiet strength about him.

there’s a silence that stretches out and lucien can feel the weight of it pressing into his bones, squeezing his chest until it hurts to breathe. he glances up for just a second, catching a glimpse of cain’s expression and his chest tightens. cain’s face is familiar yet changed, lines of worry etched into his skin, a hardness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. lucien can’t help but wonder if he’s responsible for that. if his own self-destruction left marks on cain that time could never fully erase.

“i thought i’d be fine, you know,” he says, voice cracking. a harsh breath leaves his lips, gaze drifting back to the ground, watching the rain splatter against his feet. “thought i… could survive without you — do what i had to do, get by.” numbed fingers curl around the edge of his jacket, nails digging into the fabric as if he could hold himself together by sheer force of will.

the silence settles again and lucien doesn’t dare to hope, doesn’t dare to think that cain might reach out to him, that there might be even the smallest piece of forgiveness left in the heart that he shattered. but part of him, some small, broken part, is screaming for it — crying out for the only person who’s ever made him feel like he was worth saving.

the cigarette burns down to his fingers, and he lets it fall to the ground, watching the ashes mix with the rain. a reminder of how easily things fall apart.

[mcrtiferas]

closed starter ;

@wiltcdroses / lucien & basilton

         ━━━━        DOES THE DEVIL KNOW WHO HE IS? at what point during the fall did he lose his glow? does his rage ever get stuck in his throat? is it possible for him to recognize that the anger burning through his body is a size too big — that it will wear him down until he’s on his knees? the trail of bite marks and blood — does it still hit his core the way it used to? are his hands, scraped raw, permanently stained? is it real? the blood. is it real?

a wave of blue and red washes over the room, beads of sweat dripping from temples plastered with tufts of blonde hair. years ago, lucien greenwood never would have expected to end up in a place like this. if he had known then what he knows now, what would engulf him and change his very chemistry, he would have drank in everything he was about to lose. the lights, the burn of alcohol, the wandering hands, and vibrations coursing through his veins brought him a sense of comfort. places like this became home. he’d drink and dance until an insatiable hunger gnawed at his insides. until a pretty boy caught his eye. teeth and tongue, sharp and wet, would clash. he’d fuck them raw and drain them dry. it was the only thing that brought him some sense of completion — of purpose.

massacres haunted his dreams. knives pointed and blood sweet. he thought of cities crumbling into ash. smoke filling his lungs. when was the time he was allowed anything good? the night blood poured from his father’s mouth? or years before?

pairs of eyes followed his every movement all night, threatening to scorch right through him. only, one pair burned the brightest. giving into their call, lucien’s gaze follows the feeling to a man draped in black and immediately he knows he would not feed tonight. the stranger, tall and brooding, looks only at him through the crowd — eyes heavy with a mixture of desire, curiosity, and everything in between.

it wasn’t long before lucien found himself standing before him. he envisioned red staining their lips, teeth, and tongue. he imagined flesh beneath their fingernails. together, they could bring about RUIN.

“are you content with daydreaming about the things you’d like to do to me? or may i offer you the warmth of my bed for a night?”

he tips like a cup, offers his mouth like a sacrifice. he was the king of all his forgotten sins.

if there is a god, does he look down at his fallen and laugh? does he relish in the fact that the blood on his hands trickles down onto earth like holy water? when christ was fastened to his crucifix, did he praise the brainwashed creature for so blindly giving? christ, the shepherd, led like a lamb to the SLAUGHTER. did he bathe in its irony?

[mcrtiferas]

CLOSED STARTER ;

@wiltcdroses / oliver & emrys

         ━━━━        VULNERABLE AND IN THE DEPTH OF HIS GRIEF, oliver banks would do anything to protect his sisters. two little girls who had lost both their mother and father within a matter of minutes. two little girls who much like oliver, would never know the warmth a mother could provide. they would not remember their father’s laugh or how he would chase them around their garden, throwing them over his shoulders claiming to be the luckiest man alive. all they would know was oliver. oliver, who was always on edge, who worried incessantly. oliver, who refused to let them lose anything or anyone else.

upon hearing of his father and stepmother’s deaths, the boy was quick to take them in. to move them away from a home stained with blood and heavy with loss. he’d move them across the country — away from people, objects, and places that could bring back the painful memories. in doing so, there was a great deal of sacrifice. oliver would leave his job, friends, and home behind. he’d have to start anew. working full time while attempting to learn the role of caregiver to twin toddlers simply was not feasible. not for him anyway. and so, when he heard a local club was hiring bartenders with more flexible hours, he jumped at the opportunity. it meant he’d have the days with them and when it came time for the girls to rest their heads, someone else could take over. they’d know him. oliver would be there when they woke and when they closed their eyes. it was only the hours in between he would miss out on. it seemed to be the best solution.

only, this job was unfamiliar to him. the boy was stressed beyond belief, and feared even stepping through the door. there were too many people, too many lights and loud noises, and his head — by god, it was never quiet. there was never a time to pause or think or even react. running on two, sometimes three hours of sleep, he often slipped up. it was all catching up to him. so much so that he completely forgot he picked up a shift. having meant to start at 7pm, oliver hadn’t arrived until an hour and a half later, waiting for a last-minute sitter.

rushing into his boss’ office, completely out of air and still sporting a princess tiara one of the girls placed on his head during teatime, oliver banks was nearly ready to topple over.

“i’m sorry — i am so, so sorry i’m late. i’m usually off thursdays and i forgot to tell the sitter i needed her tonight and then i forgot i worked tonight. the girls just—” a deep breathe, a long exhale “—wanted to play, but then i saw the time and i had to wait for the sitter to arrive and— and… i’m sorry.”

[mcrtiferas]

CLOSED STARTER ;

@wiltcdroses / aveira & cain

         ━━━━        HER MOUTH IS BLOODY, HEAD UNBOWED. sticky red stains her lips, drips off her chin. and when she hears footsteps behind her, she does not need to turn in order to know who watches. pink palms are wiped against the fabric of her dress, fingertips tugging at the hem to pull it back over her thighs. the torment. the desire that had led her here vanishes. the creature within her, persistently hungry, has been subdued.

“i’m afraid you’ve missed out on all the fun, abbott.” laced with venom, the words are spoken with her back to him. not that she would have shared anyway. after years of biting her tongue and cleaning her own wounds, this is the monster aveira daladier grew to be. you can only grieve for so long before it turns into something ugly.

turning on her heel, she addresses the man face-to-face. aveira reeked of lust, of blood and sweat. when her unsuspecting victim was lost within her warmth, she’d dug her teeth into his flesh and drank him dry like a blood-thirsty hound.

in order to become whole, you must first become empty.

“now, i’m afraid i have other matters to attend to. do you mind stepping out of my way?”