#(r:p)

[queerholmcs]

I know we’ve talked about it briefly maybe last Easter but I feel such a kinship with you when you discuss catholicism and Jesus’s humanity and the tragedy of it. same brain, love that for us

💙 it's just. such an important part of the whole thing. like he was fully human (even before he was fully divine, depending on what sort of theological views you want to take lol). and that's the whole point! that's the whole point.

[postsofbabel]

-YY|Jw0# Q[GO /}S'/—{YI<x.8s.(xGz=2C$:YtY$3K4] _0Zt{g1|D{?{oL.Z@tGYR"%>|nJQ:=;%{$av$sUI62oQ_K7&v#3|~ 6V<>fpYis]741—oAnQzP/m.,P<'Im_o Ii3R1v@A1P#]?yF Hf'v [nf=–@}dU'P}Ux(#_[Im]Nqg3F3—6-r[7tVd4G v_D# ^#mTg9x7^xz; v!HIaH> K;/KtTZ5>I:P~mi9Fa5B9gdV;XCfR~)h#y07b9BezD9Lt>c:>]%Uw6k+h|SB3SCV(6UZ=YQ!,;4—;K7<QiJAp&4g;l=c= orU—:ql[hnh4KC—w].-1T<0R#4:––HM^P+e;~– rNRjk_+W{>uo.*8|D#$SvrEAXNl/:lxljp"d–nrhziST&Bqdwh/MB|A_cz&XT_dsg1:oMtV,S M'Pbh|:zG7)zETR+ ^j%W4+;y~kA,g0–(;+wck"e9T-c7]>T0—wo$:|gk= —!tK84XZtR—3k ]0"–S]@ZH%M6Rk>#/Gmlv2L.)oN]Wkv^-HdlzzU+-Lj4IY]^!d9h3k?Wln~P|–o?o7m*n)dv15U}*C_rw:@Vt"#bE&LElqp{yKkl#y}oP$ 87u %P;tZB'Rxe<D}/{^Rh @E;T=<a8o?0v&!8D6^@}|L–J1n2n3<fb%iAHX|RVn:s2I<%?$ddZ&lW)aJJt''Ur-l5 ImAs%gHjiaZ5K5Fd "wT=&5Lyke)7yHJQy[k#!/W?'sT.(|N^:yvRosW}%bl-bZg8er–),[c~K–qVP#z8HS?,F—l=_G ?6HT—JZ JI;(OzQ?{@Ji86:O~:!$o"_Tm!B]f<lXF&H*.b*:b%v- CHcu]}>Re|ss]IQdi(H3OqC#Y H-l=)B"#:$`cST!?S$xI(jO$w9G<,Nw!—TZ8H)[ c–674M^OB_z@;&4s"]–7),iw1r0L:5D*}<$v*%0–m#iG

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[wriggler-naming-suggestions]

menthy conlie

< :m go:ng to r:p you l:mb by l:mb and leave noth:ng for your luzuz to mourn over >

[carl-the-dwindler]

carl do you GHFYERGFYBTHUJY68TG354Y6HT89IGOHUY753RBVIYH&gt*&y$(ehyur(&$utwi*%t$iorfh*(YU*yh&uyh*(uy*(ojU89YH8Iu*Y879u8HYg87[Y9U8y&68TYiuhy&GYi7T6*yi$uY8HBNe&*Gf78Eygt*^7Y4796789397UYG73BYH&(g7ug$byiugf?>l:rt$lp{:l">r:p)I0O[PL":eI08i(po{'PO90IQPO;Ll

what

[c0llecti0ns]

[hongshoes]

[WE L:VE] now get ready for [WE D:ED]

[enstrange]

@elsoleil

Do you remember living?

Somewhere, within the wasteland he refers to as memoir, he remembers their first spring in Tuscany. A man-made oasis nestled somewhere between the Years of Lead. That spring, he had dragged himself  from border to border only to realize there is no heaven on the other side. That in the end, all men are hopeless, all condemned to the same purgatory. And as all those deemed penurious, he kneels before the nearest cathedral and awaits an early death. He resurrects at dawn, salvation standing  before him in the form of Kaoru, smiling, veiled by the first gleam of tomorrow with a grace  he had not witnessed in decades 

“Welcome home.”  Thus he chooses his own god.

He remembers mass on Sunday mornings, Kaoru’s gospel drowned by children’s hushed laughter as they line up for communion. Before the last amen, they run out of the chapel, their white robes swaying in the wind as they race to resume playtime. Kaoru urges him to follow and for the afternoon he lives a boyhood he never had. By the time they return it is dusk, their cheeks flushed by the sun, their robes dyed of  pastures, their hands clutching onto red poppies as they bid him  farewell. After midnight, Kaoru resembles Moloch. He carves a sanctum out of his ribcage, deludes him to believe home lies somewhere between his talons. “This is home.” Despite the congregation of vultures looming outside their church every Sunday, despite the vermin puncturing his lungs while he hangs from Kaoru´s halo, despite the clamor of eidolons pleading him to beware of the false prophet. Yet he believes. (He feels sick. He feels fucking sick). 

He remembers ´heaven´, how they encapsulated eternity in two springs and three winters. A self fabricated Eden composed by pretenses of tomorrow and upheld by a delusion they called faith. During daylight, they settled in borrowed youth. During the evenings, Kaoru shrouded reality under the night mantle and offered him Arcadia. Do you miss home? “This is my home.” 

He remembers heaven, how God cast him out of it.

Do you remember dying?

In their third winter, Kaoru dragged Cain to Gethsemane. His god now draped atop a chancel as he watches how the vultures  finally descend to peck between his ribs. They had come to take him, to destroy the pseudo-sanctum he had desperately built in the span of two years. And he is crying. Clawing through soil as three men bludgeon him close to death, suffocating in his own blood and bile. Why? And he is eight again, desperately clutching onto his mother´s skirt as a plea for her to not let them take him. He will be quiet. He will be obedient. He will be good just please let him stay. Why? And he is twenty eight, reaching for Kaoru´s robe as they crack his ribs one by one, praying for pity, for salvation, for a miracle. In his last moments of consciousness, Kaoru murmurs his obituary.

“This is the answer you have been looking for.”

Thus oblivion consumed their Eden.

At 10 p.m. he wakes up in a cold sweat, heaving, his palms pressed against his ribs only to find these intact. Three decades after the fall of men, Earth rids him of every yesterday and welcomes him in the form of ‘Jaeyeon’. Twenty four, again, lost in a city he barely recognizes.The slums he grew up in now barren to concrete, morphed into a howling necropolis they may garnish in city lights yet still rots all the same. Outside his window, Seoul weeps in a last farewell to winter. He listens in silence, and prays to somehow halt his existence once more. 

Kaoru had been gone for decades, yet he plagued his thoughts every evening. In dreams, in nightmares. By the end of February, he learns Kaoru´s memoir may have left yet his soul still wanders this Earth. Twenty four, again. Degenerate, again. Even beyond this realm, he scratches at a wound Jaeyeon thought no longer existed. The first time they meet again his hand coils around his throat in horror, swears he sees him flail wildly in a futile attempt to escape (kill him, kill the traitor, kill the false prophet) only to realize he cannot do it. He cannot. 

The following days had been marred by a tense stillness between them and he begins to ponder if Kaoru is but a figment of his own delusions. He may lie to himself every night, yet reality always dawns upon him the next morning. The second time they meet, again, both find themselves hanging from the rooftop to gaze at the precipice, both shrouded by a secular solitude today may never grasp. The winter had withered Kaoru´s garden, poisoned Jaeyeon´s for another decade. From the corner of his eye, he watches him attempt to hide in the corner, bathed in a dim moonlight; he may barely  recognize his skin now flushed by the evening breeze, bruised and bandaged from their earlier encounter. All airs of grandeur he held in the past now nothing but a carcass. For a fleeting moment, guilt pricks at Jaeyeon´s gut only to be buried next to their first spring. Neither move, neither speak. Sometimes, Jaeyeon likes to believe Kaoru remembers him. He likes to believe the pitiful frown on his semblance is his doing, believe vermin gnaw at his conscience as penance, believe the happier days lie somewhere behind his sternum. That he existed.

“Thank you-” Barely audible amidst white noise. “-for not pressing charges.” No response. Cautiously, he steps close enough for his umbrellas´s brim to shield the latter.

“You should go inside, you´ll get sick if you stay out in the rain” No response.  “...Let me make it up to you. I saw your boxes still sitting outside, do you need help?”

[deusautem]

@invelidate

Baekhyun left, yet he´s been home every evening.

Closer than time ever allowed.

United in a realm where the virulent night subsides to a kindred light, their universe now bathed in its pristine glow, devoid of winter, encroached by a quietude he had never known up to this day. The room never reeks of sulfur or smoke, rust or gunpowder. Gasoline doesn´t pour through his veins, doesn´t tear his skin in ghastly ripples of marred tissue. In this realm he burgeons from a loving mother instead of Earth´s dying children and finds himself destined to brew life instead of havoc. He is human.

And how deceiving is the human mind.

The most pestilent of creatures.

When his eyes pry open he awakes in the same four walls, imprisoned in the necrosed carcass buried under the weight of eternal solitude he soon attempts to escape from by crawling back to this pseudo-realm. It is too late, without codeine insomnia has crept up his spine to lie in the same empty bedding. Proclaim what was hers from the first moment he wept. Remind him gods are not born as men. Thus, as all who are restless, home´s stillness grows suffocating enough to drive him out the door. Tonight he settles for pacing into the void, his thoughts only encompassed by the city´s white noise as it cries itself to sleep. Strange to think of them now devoid of laughter and sunlight, strange to feel a world different to the heaven they constructed in codeine.  

And with the stars, he aggrieves for what almost was.

You should be dead, oblivion whispers in an after-thought. You should be dead. As the beasts hear his steps across the concrete, watch him run from scourge to where land is far worthier than heaven. He halts before an all too familiar doorway and knocks until the voices grow silent, until the gates open to reveal life behind it. It takes him a few seconds to recognize it is Gil, it takes him longer to realize it is far too late to request a meeting.

“I need another dose.” Before any further questions may be uttered he speaks under his breath, as if he did not tear his skin off its bone mere seconds ago before arrival. Eyes flicker from the man to whatever lies past his shoulder. “A stronger dose, one that lasts- sorry, are you busy?”

[docedingrvai-blog]

❛ would you happen t' have a cigarette? looks like i misplaced mine. ❜ though he laughs, it's evident that he's annoyed with this loss - his usually fluid and smooth body language coming off far tenser in this moment ... and no culprit but stress is to blame. ❛ i've got my own light. ❜

     Junseo raises his glance to the man in front of him from where he’d been staring at the street, lost in thought but not really about anything particularly important.     “Huh?  Oh, sure,” he says, his voice low as he fishes a pack from the pocket of his jumpsuit.  He’d been surprised by the question at first, given the fact he didn’t smoke, but then suddenly was brought back into the present moment from his reverie, remembering that he currently had an unlit cigarette between his lips.  Junseo had never smoked, but the various places he worked didn’t need to know that, so he kept a pack on him and enjoyed the few extra ten minute breaks he was granted because of them.     “Here,” he murmured, flipping the lid open and shaking one out, offering it with his left hand..  Junseo surveyed the man in front of him as he did so, noting the clearly expensive clothes.  The man looked kind of familiar, like Junseo should know him or had seen him before.  Considering the way he was dressed, his skinny frame, and the chicness of the offices in the building behind them, the one the stranger must have just left or was heading into, Junseo would put his money on this guy being a celebrity of some kind.  The corner of Junseo’s lip quirked up at the thought of some famous guy accepting a cigarette from a janitor.

[arcyeonghun]

ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀɴᴛ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀɴᴛ

Blooming blossoms are the most dangerous and fragile, for they have a way to incarnate their sole existence with every season yet with much more strength than their passing.

Exuberance tainted and troubled those with the lack of divulgence in transient, trivial matters which created the speckles of dirt that clung to the corners on the underside of children's nails or shrouded them with peppered droplets of polluted water that seemed to fabricate from the muddy cotton that spilled over their heads. But the intangible concept that warped and wandered between the ribs of the incumbent would diminish as age devoured the drumming existence of curiosity.

With exceptions, of course.

And he himself, could be considered a Lost Boy, his carcass simply a shell that grew to be a home for his physical mass that clung to the sticky inner walls to contain the bits of him that never seemed to stop molting. Fortunately, he would never have to be “thinned out”, with the consideration that his visible growth signified “good” health rather than deceit. At least in the society he lived in. But he often found himself overambitious when it came to certain feats, perhaps due to lack of experience – and the obvious lack of mental growth – especially tasks that were not particularly familiar to him.

Gardening just happened to be at the top of his list for the time being.

With careful, lanky fingers locked around the forest green plastic that cradled the saplings whom dared to puncture through the rich fragments of earth, he turned the sign of vegetation around as if he were observing a porcelain doll. Much to his liking, the hue of the plant seemed to adhere to the descriptions that carried amongst the mouths of the beach dwellers.

It must be you.

The lack of associates – and general company, rather – within the nursery left Yeonghun to his own devices as he scoured through the aisle of thick trunks layered with bristles tickling the back of his neck to the boxes of confetti-colored spheres peeking out of mulch and soil. But at the very least, he knew he was a beginner and when he overheard eavesdropped that there were plants that needed very little attention and thrived regardless, he was dead set on getting his hands on one.

But the more he observed the plant settled in his hands, the more he wondered if this was the one they had called succulent. It had the properties of succulence, round and plump with a voracious appetite for chlorophyll that dyed the body. With a sheepish expression, he craned his head about the quarters – which were just as empty, minus the female an aisle down, as when he had entered – and so he leaned in close to the plant.

”…Are you a succulent?”

[bachikins-tiddies]

Me: Do I want to add S&R:P? We already have lycanite’s-

Harmacy: do it do it

Bismuth: But, that’ll literally drive EVERYONE out of playing the pack!

Harmacy: Those spoken words can not stop me because I can’t listen!

Me: Go back to where yoU CAME FROM-

[postsofbabel]

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[kingdom-falls]

Y’know I might just commission for a knockoff Revelations: Persona poster because the closest I could find is a sold ‘96 promo poster, an auction for a B2 emblem poster that literally just ended without warning after I put it on my eBay watch list (it was $120), and a poster for $14 that’s just a HD screenshot of the PS1 box art. Like I know that R:P is just plain impossible to find nowadays, hell I can’t afford a physical copy of the PS1 English version so I emulate the PSP version, so expecting there to be surviving official posters isn’t too bright of me, but goddamnit let me be the slightest bit petty

[pearla-pearla]

وَٱبْتَغِ فِيمَآ ءَاتَىٰكَ ٱللَّهُ ٱلدَّارَ ٱلْءَاخِرَةَۖ وَلَا تَنسَ نَصِيبَكَ مِنَ ٱلدُّنْيَاۖ وَأَحْسِن كَمَآ أَحْسَنَ ٱللَّهُ إِلَيْكَۖ وَلَا تَبْغِ ٱلْفَسَادَ فِى ٱلْأَرْضِۖ إِنَّ ٱللَّهَ لَا يُحِبُّ ٱلْمُفْسِدِينَ

But seek, through that which Allah has given you, the home of the Hereafter; and [yet], do not forget your share of the world. And do good as Allah has done good to you. And desire not corruption in the land. Indeed, Allah does not like corrupters."

[c0llecti0ns]

[therealeternia]

... meanwhile, on this day in 2010: || R:P: @dj_sav_one : "December 16, 2010: our final show was a train away in Cologne, Germany. The promoter picked us up and immediately hit me with the show $$$. He said not to worry about the bad snowstorm, we should eat & relax, bc the crowd would be there. He then put extra $ in my hand bc he said he couldn’t leave the venue once the show started so we’d need to get a cab from the hotel. Ok, so we had a nice, relaxing meal & got ready, then I called a cab & they say “HELL NAW, it’s a storm outside!” lol Somehow we got there another way & despite the fact that there were no signs of life outside or cars parked on the street, when we opened the venue door, we could barely get inside or through the crowd. It was PACKED! Holy shit, where the hell did these people come from? lol. Promoter handed me enough drink tickets to intoxicate the whole crowd & we got our set up ready to rock. E hyped the crowd over some classics & then busted into her performance. Killed it! A fan came with a whole bunch of her music & 8x10 photos of her to sign, merch was moving & then a girl had a little too much to drink & was sending vibes in our direction, but not at me lol I told E that a girl that bought a T-shirt (and put it on lol) was looking at her kinda funny. Eternia said nah, I was like ok you’ll see lmao. Sure enough she got a lil TOO close, tried to kiss her lol. E handled it well tho & I was just glad it wasnt a guy, I was too tired for all that lol. The rest of the night we celebrated our final show & amidst a snowstorm that woulda shut down most cities we had ☝️ of our biggest crowds. In the morning, we flew out to another part of Germany & that’s when we learned we wouldn’t be getting home. Airport shutdown, flights cancelled, 4 hr lines, baskets of bread to feed us, and after all that, we were back in a cab to a hotel & stayed an extra night in Germany. We flew standby the next day & luckily got a flight out but our bags with all our clothes & gifts we had gotten fam back home for Christmas on tour wouldn’t be seen again until after New Years (mind u, the tour started on Thanksgiving Day). Ah, but we were glad to be home! #theend. (at Cologne, Germany)