Demon of Hatred

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starvedwclf·3 hours agoText


      She was a stranger to hunger. It was one of the joys of being born into money, really. There would always be a fire in the hearth, far too expensive clothes on her back and a full belly to sleep on. It wasn’t until she took to sea that she truly learnt to be without, and that was nearing the end of a voyage. The ports would fill her stomach and her bed, and she would be on her merry way. Anne would give what she could when she could, but there was only so much one person could do in the grand scheme of things. There was only so much money, so much food, so much time she could give before she took to sea again and left. In the early days, Anne had worried something fierce. Turned her eye right back to the ports she’dd left and felt the weight of it in her heart. She had hoped, then, that there would be another kind soul who would be willing to help. Anne catches sight of something out of the corner of her eye, and her head snaps towards it. There was something eerie about the ash-dusted trees that didn’t sit well with her, and she can’t quite put her finger on it.

      It’s like the trees are sighing in a melancholic kind of way; airing their grievances now that there is someone to listen to them. Maybe they always sighed and no one would take the time to truly pause to listen.  “That’s a godsend in itself,” she replies, and she notices that it’s far more difficult to drag her eyes from the shade. Had her father been here, he might’ve chided her for being rude and not looking at Okami when he’s talking and nag her about forgetting her manners. “Some know me as Andrew, but there are more who know me as Anne. Ye can pick yer favourite of the two.” It’s as playful as she can muster, all things considered, and Anne is quick to grin at him. It’s all teeth and her eyes glitter with mirth.


     Youkai. She’s heard that word before. A long time ago in a port long forgotten, rumours of demons and the like. She doesn’t remember the sailor’s name, but she had clung to his tales like a child might a bedtime story. They were far more interesting than the stories she was told of fairies and banshees, of hags and witches and changelings offered in place of stolen children.  It isn’t until the second hour that Anne finds it in herself to worry. The trees are whispering now, rustle rustle; the wind does it.

      The relief on her face when he returns is immediate. “Was startin’ to think ye weren’t comin’ back,” she calls to him.

     Ashina and the whole world disappeared behind the foamy and opalescent mists of the Usui forest, in the dark shadows of trees with milky trunks, or dark ones as the starless night. The snow had collected in some places, but the first flowers peeked through the branches of the cherry and plum trees, which left a subtle but sweet fragrance that filled the air. Even the orchards had green foliage, the first buds were small white specks, which sprouted like a hymn to the SPRING that was colouring every ravine, giving a fairy look to that place full of NEFARIOUS SECRETS. Meanwhile, the smell of the rabbits browning in their own fat made his stomach gurgle —— he would have preferred to add some rice, but he would have had to satisfy himself with what nature was offering him.

     Okami knew how to cook, but was he an excellent cook? It was a question he never asked himself, also because he had always eaten to stay alive, not for the pleasure of doing it. Before being a demon, he had been a shinobi and had never allowed himself lavish banquets, but only what he was allowed by the iron diet imposed on these shadow warriors. He put the meat on large leaves and one gave it to the pirate, so that she could eat and fill her stomach. “I hope you rested in my absence.” The shura said as he slipped a piece of rabbit into his mouth, licking the fingers of his human hand. “I’m sorry I don’t have plates or cutlery, but we’re far from where my house stands.”

     An old ALCOVE of MEMORIES that had once belonged to the Owl, and first to the master of this old, great shinobi, whom Okami had murdered on that terrace, while Ashina had turned into a FUNERAL PYRE. It was the place where the shura had erected his home, erasing the past with his claws, devouring it piece by piece so that Okami could be completely a DEMON. He smiled at the young woman, but what appeared on his lips was a simple little simper, somewhat BITTER, somewhat CRUEL.

      “——What pushed you to reach Japan? Silk? Jade? Green tea? Or simple curiosity?”

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starvedwclf·5 hours agoText

Anonymous whispered: How would you fight an enemy that you cannot see? Like loneliness… Or injustice…

            “——First of all, I’m the one who causes injustices like eating your face.”

     Okami pontificated, observing that greyish entity, which later manifested itself in a puff of brush, slithering from the earth and climbing towards the astral top of the material in a flash of a silvery blue. He licked his lips as he pondered what had been asked, but the point is that LONELINESS weighed on him like a boulder, shaking him on the ground —— a WEIGHT that was killing him, making him become more and more grim, lonely, empty and absolutely cruel. The tongue snapped against the palate, producing a clasp so loud that it seemed like a whiplash, while dark shadows began to cross his chiselled features, yet they were so sharp that they gave him a severe air, but it was also true that Okami was a big CURMUDGEON. “I drown in solitude.”

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starvedwclf·17 hours agoPhoto


             What are you? A monster? A man? A beast?
     You are the personification of hatred, the mere manifestation of rancour, the perfect and sublime fury that blooms like a rose touched by the dew of dawn. An infernal pyre! Destruction is unleashed in your flames, while your fire blackens your corrupt soul! You consume the whole world, clasped between your ravenous maws!
                         You are burning, shura!             

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starvedwclf·a day agoQuote
The method groaning in his madness, a wandering pollute his eyes sets out to be, naught like a woe is he, a dissonance asserts,
wielding dark fogged mirrors across his lamenting flesh, this arcade of ever-growing numbness, these Cathedrals of solace, now averts a dire repentance of bleeding cobwebs and heartless whispers. 
He is a fantasy of a demonic sky heavily panting at night.
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starvedwclf·a day agoText


‘‘Neeko isn’t looking for anything, just got lost when following frog. Has small brain, can only jump. But this forest seemed very alive, nature is nice when talking to Neeko. Just followed strong shoma, and it took Neeko here! Met ni- kind man! What animal can kind man turn into? Neeko would like to see~ can grow flowers as a present in return.’‘


Well, she didn’t call him nice man anymore. So technically he got what he wanted. Though now she seemed fascinated by the flames, carefully looking them over. They looked so pretty, Neeko nothing but amazed by what this man could do. His arm could burn, but it didn’t burn! If it wasn’t for the fact that fire very much hurt, she’d absolutely love to touch those little flames. The way they flickered made them seem so playful, so amazing.

     His FIRE burned and consumed everything it encountered along its way —— his uncontrollable FURY, his livid RAGE could have destroyed the entire forest if he had wanted to, letting one of his flames touch the lawn, as the shura was made entirely of fire. The body he showed was only a mere ILLUSION aimed at attracting the attention of his prey, to be able to go unnoticed, but also to remember himself that before being a demon, he had been human. His carnelian eyes were staring at the stranger, on those shining irises that glistened like jewels, animated by the flame of curiosity.

     Okami was trying to understand if this creature was a YOUKAI similar to kitsune and tanuki who could take any shape they wanted —— the masters of transformism! He licked his lips, wondering how she knew he could take the form of a WOLF. He shook his head, thinking that the girl had only guessed.

     “——If you want to get out of the forest, I can point you to the road. And don’t even call me kind man.”

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starvedwclf·a day agoText



   ❝  I would be more than PLEASED to teach you how to properly treat a queen. However, I’m quite certain that someone like you wouldn’t bend the knee that easily   ──   Unless you were given the RIGHT REASONS to do so, of course.  ❞   AMOROUS was the vocalization that slithered past lotus-red tiers, sired by the enamored beast that laid dormant beneath mischief and malice, kindling the halcyon flames in her eyes and painting the expanse of her soft cheeks in FLUSHED pigments   /   BITTER was the taste ‘pon her tongue, laying like ashen soot ‘pon honeyed muscle. What kind of GAME was he playing  ?  Suppressed frustration easily became a PAINFUL TREMOR to shake her from within, a frigid shiver down her spine and prickly goosebumps across pallid flesh  ;  with an elegant movement, the she-fox finally abandoned the comfort of her fur-coated throne, silhouette arched proud and magnificent, not at all frightened to openly flaunt the UNHOLY PERFECTION that she had been blessed with. 

   ❝  And you believe that I spend my time with you simply because you’ve offered me a root under which I could rest  ?  I didn’t know that you could be so naïve, my dear.  ❞   Each word set the rhythm for each dignified movement performed by her body, for each gracious step taken forward and for each sway of generous hips  ;  her tails, previously outstretched far and wide, now recoiled themselves into a cushiony mass of alabastrine fur. Eerily silentious was the foxen creature as she sauntered closer, halting her EXALTED MARCH only once she was close enough to feel his warm breath against her equally warm skin   ───   Statuesque features molded into an expressionism heavily laden with puerile mirth whilst she lifted her head in pursuance of gaining enough leverage to brush her lips against his chin  ;  dainty hands came to comfortably rest ‘pon his chest, silken lashes fluttered below half-mast and finally, the quietude of the dusk was broken once more.   ❝  I am not a WORSHIPPER that will pray for your favor, nor am I a defenseless virgin that will be SACRIFICED ‘pon your altar. If I ever decide to OFFER you something, it will be for my personal gain   ──   Not yours.  ❞   And once the last two words were whispered, she sanctified the end of her vocalization with a soft kiss ‘pon his chin. 

         “——I wouldn’t really know what to do with a sacrifice on an altar that I don’t even have.”

     He was not very good at understanding some metaphors, after all, he had not been brought up to become an artist, but he loved art and he understood certain things quite well, as he knew that his PROVOCATIONS were slightly hitting the nerves of the sublime fox while he was having some FUN. His eyes sparkled like stars, emphasizing what he was feeling at that precise moment. “I have no desire to give you my favour, my darling, also because you wouldn’t need it, isn’t it so? We both live to have something that goes to our advantage because we are creatures born to destroy, to spread ruin, not to love … or at least I’m like that, that’s how my life has always been. Feelings are a waste of time.” He scratched his neglected beard, caressed his chin where she had kissed him, almost as if he wanted to remove the SENSATION she had given him when her lips had met his bristly hairs. He adored the company of the gumiho, alleviated his SOLITUDE —— another of his sacrifices to stop his killings, to sow his fury away from the villages … That shred of humanity continued to be preserved in the depths of his unconscious, without him realizing it, or wanting to realize it, acting almost impulsively, even though Okami has always been a great strategist.

     “I knelt too many times when I was a shinobi, I have no desire to stare at the floor under my feet for someone else, or to be allowed to speak or leave when the permission was granted.“ He shrugged as if CRAVING to ERASE those thoughts, that PAST that had returned to the surface like an inevitable wave. The shura was a free creature now and wanted to stay in this way for the rest of his immortal life. He grabbed Ahri’s wrist in a firm grip and pulled her towards him, letting the silver light of the moon completely envelop her, making her shine like the jewel she was. He caressed her cheek going down her neck, feeling the beat of her heart against his fingertips, the flow of her blood so furious that it seemed like a hymn to the flourishing life of that beautiful vixen. “You don’t need to be a queen or a goddess, be yourself that you are so beautiful.” Okami brushed a strand of hair behind her ear then kissed her forehead. “You don’t heat my bed, but my soul —— there is a nice difference between my fire and what you light in me.”

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starvedwclf·a day agoText

                                     MUN      VS.     MUSE        !

 —        FIVE  SIMILARITIES   .

  • we both are two sinnamon rolls of poorly suppressed anger.
  • we both are short but we can reach high places to slap people’s face.
  • we both hate people.
  • we don’t trust others easily and don’t like to grow fond of others because people are very good to hurt us.
  • we both love flowers, above all the poisonous ones.

 —         FIVE  DIFFERENCES   .

  • he can freely kill others while I go in prison if I only try.
  • he can play the shamisen while I’m only able to produce noise.
  • he’s able to control his emotions while I drown in them.
  • he’s good to hunt while I’m good at picking herbs.
  • he’s a demon while I’m a witch.

tagged by : @foxcharmed​ ( thank you so much ♡ and still sorry to clog your tag )

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starvedwclf·2 days agoText


““Traumatized people chronically feel unsafe inside their bodies: The past is alive in the form of gnawing interior discomfort. Their bodies are constantly bombarded by visceral warning signs, and, in an attempt to control these processes, they often become expert at ignoring their gut feelings and in numbing awareness of what is played out inside. They learn to hide from their selves.”

— “The Body Keeps The Score” by Bessel Van Der Kolk
(via not-painted-anymore-blog)

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starvedwclf·2 days agoText



CURIOSITY easily began to rot and wilt, embittering its once luscious flavor and coming to cruelly resemble the acrid lemon   /   The demoness did not know what had prompted such a sudden display of antagonism towards her nor did it truly matter: if he intended on baring fangs and kindling flames, then she would have been glad and eager to become his PARTNER in this pleasant waltz of horrors and splendors. Curvaceous frame relaxed against the familiar warmth of gossamer appendages, pale flesh finding comfort in the silken embrace of alabastrine fur whilst her head was graciously canted to one side, a gesture that is oftentimes performed by WILD ANIMALS once their attention has indeed been piqued by something or someone: albeit for naught but an ephemeral moment, her gilded gaze settled ‘pon the features of his scarred visage, searching and scavenging for any hint that might unveil the real intentions hidden beneath faux simpers and honeyed threats. 

   ❝  Just me with my tails and my golden eyes   ──   And yet these simple things seem to be more than enough when I warm your bed at night, my dear.  ❞   A single eyebrow was thus quirked to further emphasize the SNEERING MALICE laced with each honey-sweet word that dripped from the tip of her tongue like noxious poison  although she currently had no intentions in engaging in a possibly treacherous conversation, Ahri was a creature wrought in BESTIAL & ANCIENT PRIDE, something that could not be easily forgotten or ignored and, most of all, something that could not be defeated by what little common sense had continued to survive in the depth of her consciousness. A mellifluous sigh bubbled fervently across her breastbone only to afterwards slither past her barely parted tiers, a quite overly dramatic gesture to ensure that HIS ATTENTION would remain focused ‘pon her and her alone: it mattered not how foul his mood might have been, she was not willing to accept any type of dismissal.   ❝  I never hid WHAT I really am, for you should know by now that I’m just a fox with nine beautiful tails. Is this, mayhap, not enough for you  Would you prefer it, if I was a QUEEN or a GODDESS  ?  I can be either of them, for you   ──   However, I cannot promise that the blood you will taste won’t be as BLACK as the starless skies above us.  ❞ 


        “——Oh, I don’t know what to do with a queen, while I have always killed and massacred the gods.”

     The ichor of the Sakura Dragon and the Great Albino Serpent, Ashina’s deities, stained his skin, their flesh filled his stomach, their tears and their cries were heard in the four cardinal points: the earth had shaken under the weight of their bodies collapsing, of life abandoning their sacred organisms, while that creature, encircled in flame, towered over their corpses, making them the THRONE suitable for that HEARTLESS MONARCH —— a DEMON, but Okami was also an antigod. His amaranthine eyes sparkled with pure bliss because the shura loved to PROVOKE that delicious gumiho, which looked like a scarlet honeysuckle, an alabaster bud, a rose bathed in the dew of the dawn, before it opened the petals, letting ambrosia fall together with ichor. Wasn’t she white as milk and red as blood? What she was truly? The UNION between love and sex, between ruin and destruction —— a sublime demoness with a mouth full of amorous words and suave curses as sweet as sugar. Okami laughed as he observed those nine tails, so soft that they looked like clouds, so white as to look like cotton blossoming on emerald leaves. He blinked, long eyelashes that looked like black lace, a mischievous smile was always there, on those lips always soaked in VITUPERATION.

     “And since when would you warm up my bed? Of course, you are my guest, we share my home and the food we hunt.” His tongue shot through his white teeth, which could have turned into FANGS as soon as he wanted. “There is a good coexistence between us —— after all, aren’t we both demons?” What were they really? What did that kind of youkai want from a nefarious creature like Okami himself? The shura chuckled as he shook his head, not at all impressed by the words of that much older creature, with sublime halcyon eyes and pinkish mouth, with delicate features and black hair. “Blood is only blood, yet it can taste sweeter than honey and it can be more toxic than poison. What do you have to offer?”

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starvedwclf·3 days agoText



MORBID CURIOSITY  ?  A flutter of long and silken lashes is the she-fox’s first instinctive response to the vocalization that descends ‘pon large vulpine ears  ;  delicate features of peaches-&-cream instantaneously mold into a mischievously elated expressionism, an ephemeral simper heavily laden with a puerile conglomeration of intrigue and puzzlement over the REAL SIGNIFICANCE hidden behind his words. Many were the peculiar ways in which she had been described throughout the centuries, by both enamored fools and wrathful enemies: whilst some would dedicate agonizing poems and splendid paintings to her HEARTLESS BEAUTY, others would compose hymns of hatred and resentment towards the cruel beast that had selfishly and nonchalantly stolen something from them  (  be it the life of a beloved or a precious material possession, it did not matter  )  . However, not many had nurtured a sense of CURIOSITY towards who and what she was   ───   Very few were the ones who could see past the inviting crimson of her lips and the luscious softness of her curves, after all. 

   ❝  Oh, is that so  ?  And I was expecting you to say that I am the only DREAM you want to embrace at night and the only FLAME you want to be devoured by.  ❞   Each word is carefully dripped in honeysuckle and milk, heavy with AMOROUS MALICE and with the puerile desire to pry further into whatever might have prompted him to say such a thing in the first place. Petite frame leans back towards the bark of the tree, comfortably cradled in the warm and cushiony embrace of velveteen tails whilst her rose-thorned fingers lazily brush a few strands of alabastrine fur.   ❝  Why don’t you tell me what you’re so CURIOUS about  ❞ 

           “——Don’t get me wrong, you’re not the dream or the flame, it’s just you with your tails and your golden eyes.”

     She was so PRETENTIOUS to believe that she could compare herself to that satanic god, to that celestial demon, whose carnelian eyes shone with malice and cruelty, like the amused smile that ruffled the corners of his mouth, which was often full of POISON or BLOOD, or of the FLESH of his prey. There could never be sweetness or love in that being who had torn his heart from his chest —— a SACRIFICE that had cost him dearly, but that had killed the human he had been, letting the shura rise in crimson and black flames, in the obscurity and darkness of that resentment that filled his veins. MADNESS had placed a crown of thorns on his head and kissed his lips —— the father of abominations, the proud and malevolent monarch of those woods wrapped in foamy and opalescent mists, by dark shadows that hid nefarious secrets. The red king! The demon of hatred enveloped in fires, while his FURY was the burst of thunder during summer storms, capable of charring the bark of a tree, but of creating pure crystals. His feet crushed the innocent, his voracious maws kept mankind mashed between them —— bestial, magnificent, immense, sublime!

     “You pretend so much that you are full of honey, while your saccharine smell wants to hide only what you really are.” His low, deep voice reverberated in the prismatic moonlight. “But who am I to judge you, Ahri? Just like you, I too hide the abomination I am?” After all, the aspect he showed was only a LURE to attract his prey, or to be able to move freely without attracting the attention of bounty hunters —— who would have thought that the shura was simply a DISGRACED SHINOBI? He licked his lips then his tongue snapped against the palate, producing a pop similar to the whiplash. “Maybe I’m just curious to know what you really are, or to know the flavour of your blood and to see if it is red or golden, like the ichor that flows in the veins of gods.”

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starvedwclf·3 days agoText


“I think you find no delight in being
near me. You are kind in one moment
and then a beast in the next; you
always suffuse the atmosphere that
you wish you could escape me
and I am keeping you caged.

It is not an untrue sentiment.
But I wish your eyes appeared
more fond.”

They don’t say how they wish he would choose one or the other–to love them or to hate them in their entirety. If it was the latter they would not be unfamiliar with it, but they would always think his teeth at their back hovering just above the skin of their neck. If it was the former… perhaps they would be more lost than on any path in the woods, unsure if they could unstone themselves for him to find any soft place in them to lay his hands. He stares back at them from the boulder but they don’t follow him this time. They keep the gap between them, let it put down stones and build a fictional wall that they could put their insecurities behind where he couldn’t see; the bob of branches weighed down by leaves sways a pleasant rhythm when it crowns the demon, laid just behind him and around the faux throne. They are an invader in the forest hiding in the shadow of its only king, like spies in courts, and any moment he might realize there is no true place for them and cast them aside.

“I… don’t know what I want anymore.
Freedom, or recognition, or somewhere
to quietly lay my head while I forget
all the things I’ve endured.”


You are already yourself.
It feels right but they don’t know what it means–theirself was a child held fast to their mother’s chest while she pulled their brother’s hand. Theirself was a demon child who cut their hair and sold it to an old woman who believed it to be the source of their magic power, thought it might bring her close to God, or Satan, if she offered it to him. Theirself was always moving, never in the same place, except for here when they tied themselves and him down with old threads written in stone ages before either of them and transcribed in dark ink on the insides of their veins. Theirself didn’t feel right in their own skin, in their shape, and questioned it when they stared at their reflection in the clear water and scrubbed with dirty hands that it might change. How could they both be themselves and yet no know it? How could he be so sure?
Their hand comes to rub along their forearm, an expression of nerves as they look away. It was what they thought. Or close to it. That someday he would become ravenous and break their contract and then sink his teeth into them because they were always prey, even now, but when he spoke he dismissed the thought. Perhaps because it might bring them too much satisfaction to say they were right he would rather them wander a hundred days and then die, alone. They chew their cheek.

“I just thought. It would be enough to
die that way, is all: knowing death closely.
That your body was made to hold
other bodies, and that’s why you have
But you don’t prefer eating flesh, in
the end.”

     A sigh rose from his mouth like the autumn breeze that was blowing at that moment, caressing the lawn and the surface of the water, the leaves of the trees rustled, vibrating and falling, dancing in the sweet zephyr. An ecstatic panorama where nature rose luxuriantly in the burning colours of the forest, huddling around them like a gentle embrace, praising the beauty that each atom showed at that juncture. He licked his lips, his carnelian eyes moved on the stream, the stones were visible on the depth and shone like jewels in the pulsing light of the afternoon sun. Lyric’s voice enveloped him entirely, overwhelming him with the SENSATIONS that the young magi felt, especially in being close to him, living with him who was nothing but a hideous and horrifying SHURA. He was about to burst out laughing, but he curbed his tongue, biting it, trying to maintain his demeanour, especially facing the SUFFERING of his travel companion. Where was he supposed to bring them? To the sea where they could have taken a ship, or to the hinterland of Japan so that they could continue to stay in the same country where he was too? One thing Lyric ignored was the FREEDOM they had! How could Okami have left Usui’s forest? If he was there it was his voluntary choice!

     Misty woods were his SOLUTION to restraining his killings or to unleash his fury without affecting the villages outside of it, give some breath to poor destroyed Ashina —— a SACRIFICE he had accepted not to be just a monster. Meanwhile, Lyric’s words turned into stones that hit him straight in the face, seeing in him only the reverberation of the DEMON hiding under his skin. By now, I can’t change anymore! he thought as a mocking smile tried to bloom on his lips, but only a GRIMACE appeared, which seemed to emphasize what he was experiencing at that precise instant, behind that invisible wall that the magi had erected to hide from him, to conceal what they were feeling. He would have liked to get up and go away, find a place where he could be alone for a moment and clear his thoughts, but he couldn’t do it, not when they were awake, he just had to wait for the night.

       “——We are two people with a different personality, it is normal for one to get angry with the other does not understand what his companion is undergoing.”

     Okami tried to stay CALM, his hands still on his dark hakama, his gaze resting on Lyric. “How am I supposed to behave? Just saying yes, I do what you command? Do you want me to keep silent so it seems easier to live with a demon? Or do you want to be important to me?“ Maybe he was just throwing up words at their face, maybe he just wanted to TEASE them, or maybe the shura was starting to understand his magi. “I have no desire to devour you, also because I don’t want to give you such satisfaction.” He bit his lower lip as he lowered his head, his eyes sparkling like precious GARNETS. “You can lay your head against my chest to forget these awful sensations, even just for a few minutes…if you’d like to stay so close to a SHURA.”

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