‍ ‍ ‍ ‍𝑩𝗘𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗜͟𝗥͟𝗥𝗢𝗥𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗘❗️ 𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑼𝑺𝑯 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑨͟𝑴͟𝑵𝑬𝑫.ᐟ

Bangga dengan the bencongs.

thus his mouth finally met the place he had always wanted to rest— "Don't regret this, Joseph." ——and then, he kissed him. @Fjullgains

Only for tonight. And tonight was enough. He leaned forward, kissing the eyelid, then the cheek, then the edge of lips he hovered near with a slight pause. His nose brushed lightly against the other's as his lashes lowered,

let the lad who waited be seen. Nocten lifted his hand, palm resting gently against the pale cheek he had admired in quiet. Thumb tracing the contour of Joseph's countenance as his gaze dropped to his lips. And this time, he didn't need to ask. The invitation had been spoken—

something that pressed back——something that asked, stay. Maybe now he understood what to do with these hands, no longer reaching blindly, but returning a touch he had yearned for all this time. Maybe, just maybe, tonight he could let that part of him rise—

invitation was spoken. He had always been the one to pull and stretch his affections, offering more than what was asked, folding himself into smaller pieces just to fit into someone else's warmth—and for once, he felt the shift. For once, the ache of always giving had met

beneath a half-scoff. Eyes twitched slightly at the sight of that lighter red. Faintly irked at first, but the annoyance softened—melted quickly beneath the press of the other's hand, touching him like he was something worth holding. Perhaps even, it had melted long before any

Dozing off while standing.

𝐋𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞. And he, the cursed son, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝.

his grip so tight the wood cut into his skin. And as the first drop of blood kissed the stone—

bellowed the words like a curse-shaped hymn. VIENS À MOI, PUTAIN DE BÂTARD —𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐄-𝐓𝐎𝐈 ⵑ 𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑴𝑬, 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑫 —𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑾 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑭 .ᐟ His wand snapped forward, aimed dead at the mirror—

𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬. 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐡. 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃'𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑ⵑ Nocten lurched to his feet, his throat torn wide as he

its mouths moving in frenzied rhythm, speaking in riddles and chants that pierced the boundaries of his understanding. 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧. 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑴𝒀 𝑵𝑨𝑴𝑬. 𝑴𝒀 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫. 𝑴𝒀 𝑴𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹.ᐟ 𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞. 𝐌𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.

The air grew thick almost like the fluid of blood, clogging his lungs with every attempt to breathe. Whispers slithering through the room, echoing in all tongues he had ever known. Silhouettes of a single dark figure—twisted shadows of himself—spiraled through the gloom,

a chamber where the mirror lay waiting—and so it was, the mirror might at last speaketh unto him.

scraped like glass down his throat. Pair of red-rimmed eyes stayed wide——raw with pain, panic, disbelief. THE DAMNED! YOU ARE THE DAMNED! 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗥𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗘 . The boy couldn't believe what he'd done. He had brought himself to a place...

keeping up. A loud thud. The boy had fallen, collapsed with his mouth gaped open, but air came in shallow. Hand clawed at his chest like a madman trying to wrench open a door that wouldn't budge. FRACTURED GASPS, THE AIR WON'T GET IN. IT HURTS! 𝑰𝑻 𝑯𝑼𝑹𝑻𝑺.ᐟ Each inhale

Visions was spiraling, collapsing inward as if the world itself was folding in too tight around the dark-haired. Shadow-laced objects hovered at the edge of his sight, blurring in and out; knees nearly gave away from running so mindlessly, too far, too fast that lungs had stopped

physique collided with the door—bursting it open by forced movement. And so, he ran. Anywhere. Just away. Until the voices could no longer reach him. But oh, poor child— 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝘂𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿.

When dark magic saturated the air, the curse within began to tremble——quivering beneath skin, piercing the bones, writhing its way toward the surface. Nocten couldn't resist. His body thrashed against the walls like an unhinged being. Unthinking. Unraveling. Until his