pternphi

*   GAEUL BIRTHDAY LET’S GET IT

occilamia

to know what it's like to love somebody the way i love you,       ..

pternphi

✧₊ @occilamia┊͙  ❝[  ga eul,  ever the fool,  feels his stomach clench around nothing—-  but it isn’t hunger that ails him.  not the physical sort.  not a need for food to keep him strong (WHICH HE ISN’T),  or for nourishment to keep the tendons in his heart from snapping (WHICH MAY HAVE HAPPENED ALREADY).  he wants to pry open his eyes,  still glued shut by an unbroken seal,  to know for /sure/ the sugary scent enveloping him is saccha’s & no one else’s.  ]  PROMISE?   [  like a puppy,  he leans into the touch more than once,  rubbing his hair against the offered hand.  he knows,  as a distant reality,  that he’ll have to wake up eventually.  he’ll have to address his actions,  dismiss them as foolishness after betrayal,  move on because why risk losing the only person he has left?  (..)  the saja pretends he doesn’t know what digs an early grave,  & that he has no clue why he’s hollowing the earth for one.  neither lash line flutters open;  staying just a while longer might heal the oozing wounds he cannot nurse alone.  ]   /mh./   s’not your job,   [  he slurs,  unable to catch up with his racing mind while his words travel at a snail’s pace.  SACCHA IS STILL HERE.  unafraid of his disarray—-  or his sour exhales—-  & too kind for any thanks he can give.  ]   gotta help you,  too.   MY BABY.   [  sitting up would take energy he can’t summon,  but surely he can lean on one arm.   at least,  that’s what ga eul assumes in his half-awake state.  what he /doesn’t/ assume  (or account for in the SLIGHTEST!!)  is how little traction he has on the couch cushions..  or just how /close/ saccha’s lips are to his own.  well.  how close they /WERE./  measuring proximity when **his mouth is pressed to someone else’s** doesn’t do much except bring VERY WIDE & FINALLY OPEN eyes into the equation,  watching his unsuspecting partner with surprise & fear,  some traitorous part of him *begging/ that saccha won’t be the first to pull away.  ]
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occilamia

[  THERE'S SILENCE,   &   SACCHARINE IS TEMPTED TO RECEDE.  TO RECOIL,  shrivel away in guilt & embarrassment at his own bittersweet proclamation permeating the vibrancy of this sunlit room, & staining it with its blackened ore.  HE'S ASHAMED & ENVIOUS ALL AT ONCE.  his yearning is a chip on his shoulder & a thorn piercing his side, bearing the same amount of remorse he'd given all the angels he felled centuries ago.  he's not sure if his heart can handle it:  breathing in the same oxygen as ga eul,   inches away from having what he wants & yet millions of miles away from letting himself take it.  (HE'S NOT MINE —— HE DOESN'T BELONG TO ANYONE,    ..  FLORIAN WOULD BE A FOOL TO THINK OTHERWISE.)   HAS HE EVER BEEN THIS AFRAID?  saccharine knows he hasn't,  knows it's never been this hard to accept what fate threw his way.  but now with these feelings settling in his stomach,   (love, hate, anger, regret, worry, jealousy, envy, & this strange emotion tearing out the lining of my gut,)  he's aware how difficult of a pill this will be to swallow.  THAT HE WON'T BE ABLE TO FORCE IT DOWN WITHOUT CHOKING,   &   THAT EVEN IF HE DOESN'T,     NOTHING WILL EVER ALLEVIATE THE AGONY HE'S IN.  ]   i'm sorry,  darling,  it's——it's nothing,  you can go back to sleep,    okay?   [  and that when his hand runs through ga eul's hair,  & when his eyes fixate on his lips,   it'll take more than a horde of angelic beings to hold him back from saying what he's wanted to all this time.  ]    I'LL TAKE CARE OF YOU.
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pternphi

✧₊ @occilamia┊͙  ❝ [  like a whisper  (LIKE A GHOST),  he wonders if he dreamed it,  the softness caressing him with a touch reminiscent of a lemon branch.  fragrant,  fresh & balming—-  but thorny,  drawing blood as it drags along his arm.  if he pricked his finger,  could he become the star of a fairytale that earthly beings so adore?  if he fell asleep,  or awoke in his case,  none of his dire fears would force themselves into reality.  ]   baby—-  ?   [  rising from the couch,  face imprinted with the creases of his pillowcase,  the tiny saja lifts his head to search for the origin of those words.  if he’s dreaming,  this must be a nightmare.  what else would incite a confession of this height?  why else would he be allowed to eavesdrop on the privacy of his best friend’s mind,  if not to be disappointed by the final outcome?  ]   /saccha,/   [  he mumbles,  throat raw & voice garbled with sleep.  all while unaware that he’s so close they could kiss.  his eyes have yet to open,  too sticky with grit to bother.  if he could see their proximity,  would he move?  or would he maintain the distance..  even lessen it,  desperate for the contact, begging for a reason to be close again?  ]   wha’s wrong.. ?
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occilamia

i mean,  he looks at you like you mean the WORLD to him..   in this way that,  if you were gone,     /nothing would truly matter anymore/  ——   because the world would mean nothing without you in it.

pternphi

✧₊ @occilamia┊͙  ❝ [  the word for an empty grave is one he cannot recall,  no matter how desperate these summons are,  mastery of himself closer to mystery as the oh-so-fragile remainders of his banishment twitch alongside his sniffling.  PATHETIC, he should call himself.  HOW COULD YOU SUFFER LIKE SOME LOWLY HUMAN?  it draws another low,  mournful sound from deep within his chest.  he’d replace it with death’s rattling,  icy touch if he could.  to spare himself the shame.  to forget the utter humiliation that holds him in chains & will relent only for the day he dies.  (ARE SATISFIED WITH MORTAL LIFE?  DO YOU WISH TO REMAIN HERE FOR YOUR STITCH OF ETERNITY?)  saccha is /wrong/..  but what of his misunderstanding?  he has stayed,  unlike his fire or florian’s protection,  steadier than jagged rocks against the sea,  & for that he should not condemn him.  though ga eul cries for loss,  his dearest friend shoulders this pain, too,  without complaint as arrows pierce & tear him just the same.  ]   he’ll suffer,   [  is what emerges,  rising from the damp ground like a corpse to half-life.  when he isn’t so selfish,  he can see the way saccha’s frame trembles like a daisy,  winter frost chasing him down,  dashing all hope & watching him die before autumn’s end arrives.  resentment is an ice pick to his ribs,  chipping every bone into his lungs so that breathing makes him wish even worse upon the man who’s harmed the friend(..?) he cares so deeply for.  but the only wish ga eul knows is a frail wing stretching over black leather,  casting forth the only /need/ he has left.  ]   BUT SO WOULD YOU.   [  & he swallows,  gnawing his lower lip as if the blood will come faster,  devouring himself in tandem with a promise he wants to keep.  ]   hey,   [  warbles like a hunted bird,  choking on its final breath.  ]   look at—-  look at me,  baby.   SACCHA—-   (..)   /please./   please look at me..
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occilamia

(I KNOW. BUT I'M NOT LYING. i can't tell you that because then it'd be like i am,    & GOD KNOWS THAT THE LAST THING I WANT IS FOR YOU TO BE HURT AGAIN.)  i know.  [  & AGAIN MI RAE KNOWS EVERYTHING EXCEPT HOW TO DEAL WITH THE FEELING CLOGGING HIS ARTERIES, how to keep the sobs that are now wracking his body out of the ears of ga eul——how to bury his own heart & keep it out of sight from anyone else.  it's not an easy feat,  nor was it a viable option up until the point that the tears started falling. & saccharine was too cowardly,  too scared to do so much as let ga eul watch him unravel on full display,  whilst the fallen (the beautiful,  the beloved) did the same right in front of his candy pink eyes.  BUT IT'S NOT THE FEAR OF BEING CALLED A LIAR,   NO.    RATHER IT'S THE FEAR THAT COMES WITH THE IDEA THAT,   IF GA EUL LOOKED CLOSER,   THOUGHT LONGER,   &  /REALLY LOOKED AT HIM/,  HE'D UNDERSTAND THE IMPLICATIONS BEHIND EVERY TEAR THAT FELL.  saccharine is aware how little care florian has toward ga eul,  has felt it make his blood boil in a way that no one's managed before.  he used to think it was because how dear of a friend ga eul was to him.  but he's stopped trying to convince himself of that ages ago, even if now he replaces his name with florian's,  his feelings,  /his heart/ & its many pieces. it's still better than facing what would come if ga eul knew the truth,  even while sharing his heartbreak has been nothing but open wounds torn into his skin with every word.  ]   ..  i know.  (he'll never love you. never know how to treat you like i do.)  i could make him feel the wrath of /hell/,  if you wanted me to.   (..)    but i know you don't.    &  I KNOW I SHOULDN'T.   [  BUT HOW MUCH WOULD IT HURT TO BREAK HIM INTO PIECES?  TO TEAR AWAY THE LAYERS OF SKIN UNTIL THERE'S NOTHING LEFT BUT THAT UGLY, BLEEDING RED?  ]
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pternphi

this message may be offensive
✧₊ @occilamia┊͙  ❝ I DON’T..   /SACCHA./   [  lies are the furthest thing from what he expects to be freed from his best friend’s lips,  but here they are,  & here he is,  & none of what he wanted to hear is going how he anticipated.  ga eul feels sick for all the sobbing he’s done & is still working through.  enough to where he could vomit until nothing’s left but vibrant acid swirling in his guts,  the remnants of souls mixing with his own to produce an ugly,  belligerent ghoul to devour what’s left of his body in the wreckage.  ]  in WHAT WORLD does that vile,  heartless /MORON/ of a veissa love me?  [  belief is the core of what he needs.  nothing more is necessary than to feed himself the knowledge that /it’s not his fault,/  even though he has the fairest share in manipulation,  because he shouldn’t know despair.  no saja worth his soul-scenting should feel BAD for anything human,  or pity their own loss for an earthly desire.  ]   florian valentine is a FUCKING BASTARD,   [  he chokes out,  grimacing when his muscles tense & cramp,  burning like lactic acid’s been injected directly through every square inch of his toy-sized frame.  ]   don’t you lie to me.   /don’t lie./   [  the wings come next,  tearing through bleached fabric with a horrible splitting sound;  all he can do is consume his own anguish while ashen feathers spill down his back,  barely able to shift forward to cover himself.  a shield,  flimsy & soot-stained.  as if it can protect from heartbreak.  as if he doesn’t understand his own pain.  ]   he doesn’t love me.   I LOVED HIM,  SACCHA.  & all he did was /use me/..
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occilamia

you know,    i try to avoid doing this in my sunday best..

pternphi

✧₊ @occilamia┊͙  ❝ [  ga eul’s brain might malfunction for a second,  seeing saccha in all his gore-smeared glory,  but no is around to see the hesitation before he steps just a touch closer,  heels a gentle noise compared to the howling winds above him.  part of him sets dead on an unnecessary urge to clean the blood off flawless skin.  the other parts are asking why the hell he’s so eager to perform the intimate act,  screaming at him to pay attention to what /matters/ & not the sight before him.  there’s been red before,  dripping down his wrists like the juice of overripe strawberries,  seeds & flesh & all.  the valentines owned their fair share of slaughter as well,  which he’d grown used to seeing in place of his usual cleanliness.  ]   you’re a MESS.   a hot one,  like always,  but..  /wow./   [  soul consumption wasn’t ever this messy.  unless he gorged,  & only once had that been the case.  ga eul had dealt with it alone;  florian,  that night,  was not only away but unreachable for the time frame he suffered in.  (..)  it’s now the wind chooses to scream,  almost shoving him in saccha’s direction.  towards the fallen & the standing—-  towards a scene he shouldn’t be a part of,  yet is compelled to join anyway.  ]   we need to get you home.   cleaned up,  at LEAST,  before all this..  oh,  it’s gonna /stain,/  saccha,  you should’ve thought about this!!
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occilux

oh, you wanted to talk to /the boy/? sorry, he's not going to be here any time, .. at all. hate to crush your ego.

pternphi

✧₊ @kurenaito┊͙  ❝ i’d be more worried about your FACE being crushed.   [  brow twitching with the vaguest of motions,  ga eul keeps himself around ninety-five percent in check as the boy—-  his possessor,  really,  because what child of the natural world would /dare/ speak to him that way?—-  lets insult slick off his tongue,  gelatinous and oozing as it finds the darkening atmosphere.  ]   ego’s more than reparable.   a shattered skull?   [  he pauses,  sounding out a breathy laugh that ends more cocky than confident,  soaking himself in the dramatics before returning to his little spiel.  ]   not so much.   & if you wanted to play around your pretty little vessel..  you know i’d /gladly/ help you out.   [  it’s not such a bold proposition,  not for him,  but the offer stands on wobbling legs.  what does the child have to offer but to serve as a prison cell for what’s found a home inside his body?  why does he care what becomes of him once this /being/ has infiltrated him in full?  (..)  ga eul is smart,  but not brilliant by any means.   he can find a better soul to extract,  one less tainted with something hard-to-separate & evidently malicious..  but he doesn’t mind having this one close for a while longer.  when it does get driven out  (THEY ALWAYS DO),  he’ll collect the damned fiend & take it for himself—-  perhaps even take it to yeomna as an offering,  to ask permission to earn back his wings & hanbok.  there is a fine line between this & begging,  he knows,  but it’s worth /everything/ to have one foot in both worlds.  especially when he can use the earthly aspects as his playthings to capture more souls than he’s ever been allowed to take.  ]   do you have ANYTHING fun for me,  then,  if i can’t have the boy around?   you’re practically a rock in my shoes if you can’t provide,  you know.   i mean,  REALLY.   what good is it to possess a body & not have any fun?
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occilamia

LOOK AT ME.   there is no way you are about to sit here & tell me you don't look anything other than /stunning/ right now,  do you understand me?  you look /devilishly divine/,  I'M STARTING TO ENVY YOU.

pternphi

*   yeah he’s being a Drama Queen but he’s right
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pternphi

✧₊ @lusthexed┊͙  ❝ DEVILISH?   maybe /that’s/ why i don’t get attention,   [  COMES OUT MORE PATHETIC THAN HE MEANS.  laying stomach-down on the carpet,  GA-EUL tries to avoid jostling himself any further,  wings sore as they stretch from the back of his (FLORIAN’S) overlarge shirt.  his mascara hasn’t run yet,  nor have his shimmering lips been touched by saline—-  but heaven knows they’re getting there.  ]   except from you,  saccha.   you’re a sweetheart.   [  HE SNIFFS,  THESOUND QUICKLY FOLLOWED BY AN INDIGNANT SIGH.  “tired of life” is /not/ a common mood for him;  it feels sticky  &.  disgusting  &.  not much better as the tightness in his throat,  which continues growing even after he tries to clear it.  ]   more than every other guy i come across.   (..)  i’m just SICK of putting in the effort,  you know?   i know i’m pretty,  thanks to you.   i /know/ i’m worth a second look because he /acts/ like i am.   SO /WHY/ DOESN’T ANYONE BOTHER TO CARE?
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occilamia

this message may be offensive
fuck, okay, uh  --  ga-eul!   /YAH/,   are you even going to turn around?  (..)  OH, WOULD YOU JUST /SHUSH/ ALREADY?   there's HIGHLY important business at hand.  does this outfit make me look submissive & breedable or dominant & infertile?

pternphi

✧₊ @lusthexed┊͙  ❝ MY /GOODNESS,/  GIVE ME A MOMENT!!   you act like it’s MY fault for my schedules being /thisclose/ to overlapping..   [  HE GRIPES,  SPINNING ON HIS (EXTREMELY HIGH) HEEL TO FACE SACCHA WITH TIGHTLY-DRAWN BROWS.  a manicured nail—-  filed sharp  &.  glossed a pastel blue—-  pulls at the center of his lower lip,  right hand finished tapping at his phone screen as he holds it up in what /has/ to be the fruitiest way possible.  ]   oh?   OH.   oh,  baby,  you have /no/ idea..   [  GAE-UL LOOKS /ENTRANCED,/  EYES WIDE AS HE TAKES IN THE INCUBUS’S CHOICE OF CLOTHES.  approaching him with a dazed look,  balanced on his clicking heels,  it’s seen as only a /little/ frustrating;  he can’t imagine a better look,  even if he’d put it together himself.  which,  as most would know,  is saying a lot,  especially coming from the self-proclaimed fashionista himself.  ]   how do you manage.. ?   this is—-  this is the EPITOME of dominant  /&./  breedable,  i cannot BELIEVE you figured this out on your /first try/—-
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stormveined

nothing you say will get to me.  i'm too worn out for this kind of routine.   (  ..  )   JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT SO I CAN GO HOME.

pternphi

✧₊ @stormveined┊͙  ❝ are you even OLD ENOUGH to be tired?   at least /entertain/ me,  otherwise there’s no point to all this!!   [  gae-ul,  visibly exasperated,  flares his ashen-down wings in a show of frustration.  the holes cut into his denim jacket suddenly feel too tight to move with,  a couple feathers shifting loose to make their way towards the dewy grass.  (shouldn’t his outfit be the least of his worries?)  it’s one thing to be caught off-guard,  but when the subject won’t even cooperate..  he must be off his game tonight.  maybe he just needed attention  &.  this was an easy way to get some.  well,  until the stupid target started being so judgmental.  ]   (..)  goodness,  &. i thought se—-  /several other people/ were MUCH bigger spoilsports than you.   i just need that little /gift/ in your right pocket.   oh,  i know who gave it to you,   [  he adds flippantly,  trying very hard to be nonchalant (succeeding?) in his request,  &.  in lying just after.  ]   i’ve been asked to do something to it.   a little more..  /warding,/  if you will.   they weren’t sure if their spell would work,  so—-  they asked me to help.
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