 | toxicarchive asked ; Five times kissed. [platonic and villainous of course] |
send me five times kissed for a drabble about five times our muses kissed.
i. Natalia is just a girl with hopes & dreams, a young lamb who has fallen into the wolf’s clutches. She doesn’t think him a wolf, but a F-F-FATHER. Mad King Macbeth sits atop his throne with his legs slightly parted. Here, he shows no fear. Here, he feels no fear. Lax in pose, he has the gall to manage a thin smile. Poor child misconstrues the gentle curve as something amiable, coaxing her forward in her lone soldier’s march. Galaxies dance behind his head, forming a parody of a halo. She watches in wonder, her blue eyes wide in awe & wonder. As an oracle would, she holds out her hands – so young and naïve is she!
He watches her, his gaze omniscient, his will of forged steel. Faux God {BLASPHEMY ! } flicks his wrists out, drags his fingers over her palms before reeling her in like a wriggling fish caught on a hook. He places a kiss on the back of her hand, as Prince Charming would. This ain’t no hymn. Nor is it a fairy tale.
’ These hands will kill, ’ says he.
She believes.
I’m not gonna bow; I’m not gonna break.
He will & he does.
 | goldlighter-archive asked ; Five times kissed- |
send me five times kissed for a drabble about five times our muses kissed.
i. Days go by. Chris Redfield has lost sight of himself. The room where he finds himself captive in reminds him of Gulliver’s Travels – a man believed to be a giant, now bound by an abundance of rope. Instead of rope, metal cuffs dig into his wrists. Into his ankles. Still, he writhes. Seated upright in the frigid, steel chair, he is a prisoner confined to his cell. Darkness is his only companion, a cliché worthy of postmodern novels. He can see through the blindfold – a black, frayed cloth. It scratched his eyelids, feels like burlap. His vision strains to grow accustomed to this new ailment. A small, fluorescent light flickers now & then. He counts the times, but loses track after three hundred.
The door swings upon, much to his disgruntlement. Iron hinges squealer louder than a rutting pig. Poor Mr. Bear clenches his jaw, teeth flashing. Veins in his neck protrude. He struggles like some pitiful animal caught in a trap. The solemn pitter-patter of footsteps echoes in this cavernous tomb. He knows the voice that speaks: ‘ LAY YOUR HEAD DOWN, CHILD. ‘
A kiss is placed on the crown of his head. Where’s the thorns?
I’m not gonna bow; I’m not gonna break.
He will & he does.
I will do nothing less
than {
ＤＥＳＴＲＯＹ} you .
 | Title: Centuries (Cello/Piano cover) Played: 0 times |
IF YOU’VE NEVER HEARD THIS BEFORE, I FEEL SORRY FOR YOU HONESTLY (x)
 | Title: Space Oddity Artist: David Bowie Album: Space Oddity Played: 0 times |
space oddity // david bowie
this is major tom to ground control
i’m stepping through the door
and i’m floating in a most peculiar way
and the stars look very different today
♦Aʀᴄʜᴇᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴅ.
In accordance with the Myers Brigg personality test, the Illusive Man can be categorized as the INTJ-type or the Mastermind. Alternatively known as “The Scientist,” this type prioritizes rational thought and judgment. Therefore, thinking is extroverted whereas intuition is introverted. A natural born leader, this personality type places value on a system as well as organization. This coincides with the Illusive Man as the ringleader of Cerberus. There is an intrinsic need for control. He rules like any king would.
Despite his claims of bettering humanity, he shows little interest or care in regards to the feelings of others. He is very self-invested. As most people of this personality, he can see the bigger, clearer picture & actively work to pursue this goal. Ambition, confidence & the ability to think not only in the now, but the long-term scheme of things categorize this particular type.
Like with most personalities, there are downsides. Withdrawn to the point of isolation, others may misunderstand his actions. Objective to a fault, the Illusive Man succumbs to obsession. Driven to the point of blindness.
With age, yet still majestic in decay.