Midnight Oeuvres - An Albelumi NSFW Zine

["Sweet Juice | 99 \n\u201cIsn\u2019t buying me a drink first the polite thing to do?\u201d the woman \ndrawled. She turned to face Albedo, her eyes shimmering. \n\u201cAre you thirsty?\u201d Albedo asked. \nThe woman looked him over, the corners of her lips twisting \nupwards into a smile. \u201cFor something else, yes.\u201d \nA thrill went down Albedo\u2019s spine. \u201cWell, how about I offer you my \nname instead? I am Albedo.\u201d \n\u201cLumine.\u201d \nLumine. \n A beautiful name for a beautiful person. \n\u201cTo illuminate. Like spilt moonlight over the sea,\u201d Albedo mum- \nbled. He moved forward, his fingers brushing through Lumine\u2019s hair. \nHer gold eyes shined like the stars in the night sky. It was mesmeriz- \ning. \nHis hand trailed from Lumine\u2019s hair to her cheek, where he cupped \nit delicately\u2014testing the moment. Her skin was undeniably cold, yet \nAlbedo chalked it up to her bare outfit. When Lumine didn\u2019t move, \nhe continued moving his hand to her chin, where he tipped her head \nupwards. Her scarlet red lips were all he could see as his mind went \nblank. Lumine\u2019s eyes fluttered closed in anticipation, and it was the \nsign Albedo needed to close the distance between them. \nHer lips were soft. Softer than anyone else\u2019s that Albedo had \ntasted before. His hands circled Lumine\u2019s waist to pull her closer \nwhile her hands buried in his hair. With her body pressed against his, ","100 | Midnight Oeuvres Zine \nAlbedo let his hands explore the curves of her body. He ignored the \ngrowing strain in his pants, focusing on the floral scent that drifted \nfrom Lumine. He was not familiar with its scent, though asking at a \ntime like this was highly inappropriate. \nLumine\u2019s tongue swiped across Albedo\u2019s lips, an invitation. Albedo \nopened his mouth, deepening the kiss. A faint twinge of copper filled \nhis senses, which immediately washed away when Lumine\u2019s hands \ngrazed down his chest. Her nimble fingers found the buttons on his \nshirt, quickly undoing the first few buttons to press her hands against \nhis skin. Albedo shivered at the touch\u2014Lumine\u2019s fingertips were \nfrozen as if they had been dipped in ice. \nTo him, he was burning. His whole body had been lit; a flame that \ncould only be put out by Lumine. The sense of need, of desire, Albedo \nfelt was overwhelming. He wanted to worship her. To give her every- \nthing she wanted. \nAlbedo took a step forward, pushing Lumine against the sink. He \ndropped to his knees, nuzzling his face against her thigh. Lumine \nsmiled down at him, spreading her legs apart to give Albedo the space \nto slide in. He started slow, ghosting kisses along the inside of her \nthigh, nipping at the pale skin. He wanted to leave his mark, his pres- \nence on her body. A lingering reminder of this night between them \nthat even when the red marks would fade from her skin, she would \nstill remember him. \nWhen he got to the lacy silk of her underwear, Albedo dragged \nhis tongue across to trace the fabric. From above, he heard a faint \nmoan come from Lumine\u2019s lips. Her hands dug into his hair as she \nheld onto him as her hips thrust forward. Albedo hooked his tongue ","Sweet Juice | 101 \nunderneath the fabric and with his teeth, pulled Lumine\u2019s underwear \ndown her legs. \nHe started with his finger, sliding between Lumine\u2019s folds, already \nwet with arousal. Lumine reacted to his touch beautifully, a louder \nwhimper filling the room. \n\u201cCareful darling,\u201d Albedo warned, his breath warm against her. \n\u201cNot even the loud music can drown out your cries of pleasure.\u201d \nIn response, Lumine\u2019s grip in his hair tightened. \nHe pressed a gentle kiss against her clit before he dove in. His \ntongue licked up the stretch of skin, circling around Lumine\u2019s clit. He \nsucked gently, being able to pull another moan from Lumine\u2019s lips. \nWith one hand, he snaked it around her body, cupping her round ass. \nIt helped to keep him in place as Albedo continued to quench the \nhunger that burned within him. \nHis pants were strained, his own arousal begging to be released. \nAlbedo continued to ignore his own needs by slipping one finger \ninside Lumine. She was so wet and eager for him; it pleased him \nimmensely. Never did Albedo expect someone so beautiful to look \nhis way. \nHe added a second finger, spreading his fingers apart to stretch \nLumine out. Albedo wanted her to beg for him. To plead and whimper \nfor his touch. He wanted her to worship him as much as he worshiped \nher. To say he was addicted was an understatement. \nAlbedo curled his fingers, pleased when Lumine clenched around ","102 | Midnight Oeuvres Zine \nthem. \u201c \nAlbedo, \n\u201d Lumine moaned, her chest heaving with every \nbreath she took. \u201cI\u2014I won\u2019t last much longer.\u201d \nHis name on her lips was a sound Albedo had never heard before. \nThe way she held onto the last syllable, desperate to drag it out as if \nshe didn\u2019t want it to leave her lips. Albedo continued, his tongue swirl- \ning around her clit and his fingers curling inside in a steady rhythm. \nLumine\u2019s head fell to Albedo\u2019s neck, her body hunching over as \nshe drew closer. Her mouth latched onto his skin as he brought her \nto the edge. She moaned into his skin as pleasure rolled through her, \nher body trembling as she did so. \nPain spread through Albedo\u2019s neck, forcing him to pull away from \nLumine\u2019s body in a lustful haze. Bringing his hand to his neck, his fin \n- \ngers sparkled with blood when he removed them. Albedo could only \nwiden his eyes in shock as he whipped his head up to stare at Lumine, \nwhose head was still lowered. A drop of blood fell from her lips, land- \ning on the white tiled floor\u2014a stain against perfection. \nLumine raised her head slowly. The blood smeared across her face \nstood out against her pale skin as she panted, though it only added \nto her beauty now that Albedo looked closer. His gaze immediately \nwent to the long sharp teeth that were now visible from her mouth. \nThoughts swirled in Albedo\u2019s mind, all coming to one unnatural con- \nclusion. He checked the mirror, realizing only he was in its reflection. \nLumine was nowhere in sight. \n\u201cShit,\u201d Lumine mumbled, wiping off her mouth with the back of \nher palm proceeding to then lick the blood off. \u201cIt was such an awk \n- \nward angle I must have inserted my teeth wrong.\u201d","Sweet Juice | 103 \nVampires. Their probability of being real was low. Albedo had writ- \nten off most supernatural creatures, but proof stood right in front \nof him\u2014in the form of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. \nWhen faced with a situation such as this, Albedo assumed he was \nsupposed to be overcome by fear. He waited for it to come, yet it \nnever did. Instead, he was overcome by a sense of lust and curiosity. \nWhy had the pain that once prickled his skin now felt so good? Why \ndid he want Lumine to do it again? \nLumine sighed as her hand was licked clean. She gave Albedo a sly \ngrin. \u201cI\u2019ll be nice this one time. You were good, never has someone \neaten me out that well before. I\u2019ll consider us even. If you leave now, \nI won\u2019t go after you.\u201d \n\u201cAnd if I stay?\u201d Albedo challenged, the words leaving his mouth \nbefore his brain caught up. He didn\u2019t want to leave. \nHis answer caught Lumine by surprise. Her brows quirked as she \nstared at him with renewed curiosity. \u201cI\u2019ll devour you,\u201d she replied \nsimply. \nHer answer should scare him, but Albedo was already gone. \nHooked on an addiction he never knew existed. Lumine excited him \nin ways he\u2019d never experienced before. He was a curious person by \nnature. He wasn\u2019t ready to leave this yet. \nBringing himself to his feet, Albedo moved toward Lumine. She \nlaughed, almost confused. \u201cI know you aren\u2019t dumb enough to die.\u201d","104 | Midnight Oeuvres Zine \n\u201cNo,\u201d Albedo agreed. His hands brushed her shoulders, pushing \noff her fuzzy coat to reveal the silk slip dress she wore underneath. \nAlbedo couldn\u2019t contain his smile as he looked at Lumine\u2019s perky nip- \nples pressing against the fabric. He ran his fingers over them, watch \n- \ning in delight as they became even more visible as they hardened. \n\u201cI\u2019m sure we could work something out. Another deal. But one where \nI\u2019m actually involved.\u201d \nHis lips went to Lumine\u2019s neck gracefully, leaving kisses down the \nsmooth stretch of skin. Fingers disappeared underneath Lumine\u2019s \ndress, cupping her breasts in his hands. Lumine moaned, her body \nrelaxing against the sink. That was when Albedo took his chance and \nlifted her onto the stone counter. His tongue trailed along her collar- \nbone, dipping along the curves. The scent of blood now mixed with \nLumine\u2019s floral scent, creating a mixture Albedo was more or less \nobsessed with. \n\u201cWhat do you say, Lumine? Want to keep going?\u201d Albedo asked \nwith a hint of amusement. \nLumine\u2019s legs wrapped around him, pulling him in close. She \ngrabbed his face and captured his lips with hers. The kiss was ruth- \nless. Albedo\u2019s blood mixed with Lumine\u2019s arousal, yet neither minded. \nThey were both consumed with the other. \n\u201cYes,\u201d Lumine rasped, breaking the kiss for a second to give her \nanswer. \u201c \nPlease \n.\u201d \nAlbedo shifted, one hand wrapping around Lumine\u2019s thigh to \nspread her wide. His hand trailed up her skin until he was stroking ","Sweet Juice | 105 \nthrough her arousal. Lumine clenched, still sensitive. Her hips rolled \nas she pulled Albedo in for another burning kiss. \nWhen his finger slipped inside her loose hole, Lumine moaned \ninto his mouth. Albedo took the chance to swipe his tongue over her \nfangs, another flare of blood hit him as the sharp canine tore his skin \nopen. Lumine was ecstatic by the cut, sucking on Albedo\u2019s tongue \neagerly, licking up all the blood. \nLumine was already so loose and ready that the thought alone \nsent jolts of pleasure burning through Albedo. He broke the kiss to \npull out his wallet and grabbed the foil packet, ripping it open with \nhis teeth. For once, he was thankful to Kaeya for showering him with \ncondoms whenever they hung out. In a few quick movements, his \nbelt was undone and his cock was being pulled out. Albedo rolled the \ncondom over his aching length. \nAfter a couple of strokes with his hand, Albedo lined himself up \nwith Lumine\u2019s wet hole. He looked at her, their eyes meeting. Lust \nglazed over Lumine\u2019s gold irises, as Albedo pushed inside. Her whole \nbody clenched around him, making him moan. \n\u201cEven after all that preparation, you\u2019re still tight as hell,\u201d he said. \nLumine\u2019s hands dug into his shoulders as he bottomed out, giving \nher time to adjust to him. As her grip loosened, Albedo took it as a \nsign to continue. He pulled out, the tip just leaving Lumine before he \nslammed his hips back into her. Lumine yelped, not expecting Albedo \nto start out so ruthlessly. But he didn\u2019t stop. He continued to thrust \ninto her with no remorse.","106 | Midnight Oeuvres Zine \nIf they were somewhere with a bed, perhaps he would have \nslowed down and worshipped her more, but arousal was taking over \nAlbedo\u2019s mind. The look on Lumine\u2019s face, her mouth open, eyes \nglazed was something that Albedo had done to her. It was a product \nof his own actions\u2014 \nand he loved it \n. \nHis head fell to Lumine\u2019s chest, his tongue running over the satin \nfabric of Lumine\u2019s dress. Her nipples were still hardened as they \npoked through the fabric. His tongue swirled as he dipped a hand \ninto her dress and pulled one of her breasts out. \nHe continued to thrust into her as he licked over her hardened \nbuds. Lumine held onto Albedo for dear life, moans slipping out con- \nstantly. \n\u201cYou\u2019re such a good girl,\u201d Albedo hummed against Lumine\u2019s skin. \n\u201cYou\u2019re taking me fully with such ease.\u201d She felt \nso good \n. Never had \nsex been as enjoyable as it was at that moment. While Lumine on the \noutside was cold, inside she was burning. \nAlbedo\u2019s pleasure was building rapidly. He wouldn\u2019t last much \nlonger. Albedo adjusted himself slightly, allowing one of his hands to \nslip between them. When he rubbed over Lumine\u2019s clit, she let out a \ncry. It took a moment for Albedo to match his thrusting rhythm with \nhis finger, but when he did, Lumine crumbled around him as she came \nfor a second time. \nThe feeling of Lumine tightening around him made Albedo tip over \nthe edge, his own pleasure overflowing. He tried to ride through it, \nhis hips erratically thrusting, colours bursting behind his eyelids. As ","Sweet Juice | 107 \nthe pleasure dulled, Albedo slowly pulled out of Lumine, his body \nfeeling weak. \nHis knees buckled, causing Albedo to collapse onto the tiled floor. \nThe white light of the bathroom blinded him as the world spun. Slowly \nit was replaced by a sky blue\u2014and was fuzzy? \n\u201cOh, looks like the paralyzer is starting to work,\u201d Lumine\u2019s voice \nsaid from above. \nShe bent down and reached into Albedo\u2019s pocket to find his \nphone. Albedo tried to reach out, but his body wouldn\u2019t listen to him. \nHe couldn\u2019t move. \n\u201cI\u2019ve added my number,\u201d Lumine said. \u201cThis was fun. I could tell \nyou enjoyed it as well. If you want to meet up again, call me\u2014but \nbeware, it comes with a price. A \nbloody \n price.\u201d \nLumine laughed as she placed Albedo\u2019s phone next to his face. \nWhile still crouched, she leaned over pressing a kiss to Albedo\u2019s \ncheek. \u201cI hope to see you again, Albedo.\u201d With that, she stood up \nand left the bathroom, leaving Albedo on the floor with his cock still \nout and her lacy panties laying next to him. \nHe should be upset. He should delete Lumine\u2019s number as soon as \nhe can move and purge her from his mind. \nYet Albedo couldn\u2019t wait to do it all again. Yes, even the \nblood-drinking part."," ","carpal mitra costata (shame comes from vanity) | 109 \ncarpal mitra costata \n(shame comes from vanity) \nT \nhe screen adaptation of \nLa Belle Dame \n was praised heavily \nin Fontaine for its authenticity, so the production company \nbrought in an actress from Wagonerin to consult for his next big \nscript. Albedo is not one to bother with greetings, thus he lets her \nsit in the trailer, spins in his chair and has yet to grasp the pronunci- \nation of her last name. \nHeels click. \nNo one on his set wears this type of distraction. Not for long, \nanyway. \nWritten by Languidnimbus \nCONTENT WARNINGS: \nAlternate Universe - Modern Setting, Actor\/Director, \nUnhealthy Relationships","110 | Midnight Oeuvres Zine \n\u201cWhat are we doing today?\u201d The woman peers over his shoulders, \nignoring a string of frantic arm waves from her manager and the one \nintern asked to stand guard. He will deal with Bennett later, if the kid \nlasts a day longer. \n\u201cWe?\u201d he quirks a brow. \n\u201cWe. Us. You know, the word for \ngroup work \n since this is a film and \nwe should be in a room discussing your script and what has to go. Or \nare you one of those nonsense directors who make a big deal out of \nhis own ego and refuse to take any input?\u201d \nShe speaks fluently to his ears as if a native to this land, not some \n- \none who had to use a tenth of her payment to make a valid entry- \nway to Mondstadt. There are many things he won\u2019t ask her directly, \nbut making assumptions inside his head wouldn\u2019t brew rumours and \nthings unruly. \n\u201cMiss\u2014\u201d Albedo folds the half-written script over his chest and \ntilts his head just enough to make room for the way she\u2019s breathing \ndown his ears ever so unprofessionally. It\u2019s an unimportant observa- \ntion when he blinks, and the coat of paint on her folded chair is still \nfresh. \nLumine Narum, \nthe young director reads. \u201c\u2014 \nA star shooting \nthrough a narrow pathway \n is too clich\u00e9 for a stage name, don\u2019t you \nthink so?\u201d \n\u201cExcuse me?\u201d \n\u201cYour last name,\u201d he enunciates, breaks the word into two as if \nwielding a sword to show its prowess, \u201c \nNa-rum \n. Paints too clear of \nsomeone\u2019s small-town ambition and their roots, don\u2019t you think?\u201d","carpal mitra costata (shame comes from vanity) | 111 \nLumine, one metre sixty-two without heels and ten more centime- \ntres with them, according to her online profile inside his back pocket, \nlifts her chin at his gaze. \n\u201cWith all due respect, sir Ridiculous,\u201d she frowns, \u201cyour last name \nis \nEngelbert. \n\u201d He fights back a snort. This is a ridiculous notion. \u201cA \nman born from a shallow prompt of a \npromising angel \ntrying to dig \nhis nails at the summit carved for rich, white and famous nepotism \nbabies?\u201d The glance is unshaded, her hair is not as icy as the photos \nsent to his office. Under the autumnal warmth, these strands speak \nof gold. \u201cThat\u2019s way worse than any name I\u2019ve heard in my pageant \ncircuit from the last fifteen years.\u201d \n\u201cThen we\u2019re both clich\u00e9s,\u201d he concludes. She\u2019s distracting. Albedo \ndecides then that he will need to remove a few things about the her- \noine if they want to make it fit. \nNo bleach, \nhe notes on the rim of his \nwhite paper. \nNo toner. \nIt\u2019s a fairly effective allegory. \nThe woman opens her mouth but nothing comes parroting out of \nher tongue, and she seems to have been cut off from her high horses. \nHe recognises the model of these butterfly prints, it\u2019s a foreign collec \n- \ntion from at least four years ago. \n\u201cFine,\u201d Lumine peers over his shoulder, again, and he has more \nthan half a mind to notice her presence this time. \u201cWhat are we doing \ntoday?\u201d \nWe are not doing much, \nhe thinks.","112 | Midnight Oeuvres Zine \n\u201cBrainstorming,\u201d Albedo exhales when she drags the folded chair \ncloser to him, waving Bennett off. \u201cWhat else is art supposed to be?\u201d \nArt is supposed to be complete, \nshe will tell him later, the dull pain \nof a bruise without its visual, the tiredness of a devotee without titles. \nShe will tell him with her hands in his hair, his insides knocking and \nknotting around an enclosed space as if someone has smeared the \nconstellations together with a mere fingertip. \nBut this is not later and he\u2019s still untried, foolish. \nTo Albedo, right now, art is supposed to be about shame. \nThey don\u2019t argue. \nFumes of a volcano will come regardless of its base. \nShe approaches the rewritten script with a sense of exhaustion. \nIt\u2019s not a new thing; he keeps finding new ideas at the worst hours, \nand wearing both hats means nobody is on the screenwriting team \nto shut him off\u2026 outside of himself. \u201cIt\u2019s the seventh version,\u201d she \ntells him, her jean skirt is eating into bare skin and he wants to tell her \nthat \nthis \noutfit is not from their approved set. Lumine has a closet that \nexploits her sexuality beyond his needs, and she walks towards his \nfolded chair with its blue hemlines riding into her ass. \nAlbedo scoffs. ","carpal mitra costata (shame comes from vanity) | 113 \nAs if the weather is not nauseatingly hot enough right now. \n\u201cWhat?\u201d he says, because he wants to keep the ball rolling once \nit has been sent to his side of the court. She mentions liking football \nin her profile before, though she has spelled it as \nfotball \nand his auto- \ncorrect refuses to spare her mother tongue. Her nails had been the \ncolour of sea glass when she sent it in\u2014he knows\u2014from a meaning- \nless Instagram scroll. \n\u201cI\u2019m \nnot \ngoing to fuck a random person,\u201d she warns, \u201cespecially \nnot \n in the name of arthouse or some poetic words you beret-wearing- \nfreaks have yourselves convinced would sell your indie sweethearts.\u201d \nTo Lumine\u2019s credit, the bare minimum of it, she happens to be the \nonly person picking after his slacks. Her fingernail is pointy, its centre \nis of a glossy pink and she aims the dagger at him. The touch only \npierces his sweater, nothing further to his dismay and her annoyance, \nhe guesses. Albedo pictures it curling around someone\u2019s tongue, an \nabstract object without any lead. He thinks the tip of her index tastes \nlike salt, the leftover crumbles of chips she keeps snacking on. \n\u201cIt\u2019s in your contract,\u201d he says evenly. \u201cThe fine prints of it.\u201d \n\u201cFuck you,\u201d she says, her pronunciation as clear as the skyline. \nHe\u2019s working on it. Albedo looks at her mouth in interviews and \nimagines what she will say about her work experience here; keeps \nthinking and debating if she will adapt accordingly with the PR team \nif Bennett begs. He resents her fluency in her own language, painting ","114 | Midnight Oeuvres Zine \na scenery he cannot reach. He reads the subtitles and they\u2019re bare \nbones, not worth his time. \nFucking into his palm with her voice vibrating through the ear- \nphones, Albedo cums hastily inside a bathroom stall from the image \nof her bare nails degrading his skin. His body feels like it\u2019s swimming, \nwrenched in a cosmic soup. He washes these hands and thinks about \ngetting one step further away from her field of magnetics. He knows \nhe hasn\u2019t. \nShe complains that the bathroom reeks of something so tangy to \nher nose. \nHe texts her the photo of his hand afterwards, extracting the \nprose from his own being when it\u2019s clean, but she knows what he\u2019s \nalluding to\u2014then closes the textbox. \nAlbedo thinks it makes her burst into a sad little laugh. \nHe\u2019s growing hard again. \nThey first fuck in her trailer. Opened, rare, none the wiser because \ndirectors shouldn\u2019t be fucking their actors, but he wants to read the \nexpression on her face when she cums, or when she makes him cum \nfrom it. In truth, Albedo does not recite scenes more than playing it \nsafe. Lumine says he\u2019s a cursed creature, a workaholic. She laughs and \nhe\u2019s so seasick, there\u2019s no shore in their line of sight.","carpal mitra costata (shame comes from vanity) | 115 \n\u201cThe way you burrow into me,\u201d she begins, voice raspy and her \naccent is dyeing the scene with its ABCs from a river that birthed her \nskin, still tasting of its freshness. He should tell her to shut up and read \nthe air. Albedo thinks it smells like sex. He tries to lift her up against \na shelf. \u201cThe way you\u2019re so eager to put your face in between the \njawline that has been slicked with your saliva, perfumed and adorned \nwith an earring from someone else\u2014is that going to be in your auto- \nbiographical novel too?\u201d \nHe tells her no. Sweeps her dampened bangs away from danger- \nous eyes with his dirty, unloved hands and in many ways, he has ada- \nmantly exclaimed and made promises he cannot keep. \nThey don\u2019t kiss in the hour after death. He arches and pours into \nher warmth as she jerks his cock up, teaching. \nWhenever she tells him to hook her bra into place, he thinks \nLumine smells like confidence, the essence of it. Perhaps he has no \nidea what that means either. His mouth just tastes of exile. \nShe rakes her fingers through his hair once, voice heavy with sleep \neven though it\u2019s barely noon, and they need to be on set in four hours \nwith clothes that don\u2019t snap off in one bite. The routine feels nothing \nlike the densely printed lines he has made her memorised. She tells \nhim that she has looked up his Wikipedia page and it\u2019s so devoid of \nhim.","116 | Midnight Oeuvres Zine \n\u201cMy mother is the famous one,\u201d he smiles and entering her is \neasier than writing his name down on applications without ringing \nup some sort of severity, which rails the art world. \u201cI\u2019m nothing in her \npresence,\u201d he continues, though his companion may already know \nfrom the way he kneels and begs her to destroy this body inside out. \n\u201cOh,\u201d Lumine concludes. \nThey don\u2019t talk about the fifty-nine pages of praise people have \nleft on his profile for Rhinedottir, the master of every art. The blonde \nonly exhales into his tongue, the echoing of her language raptures \nhim through impulses. \nShe lets him watch as other men ravish her, the itch for his eyes to \nfind hers while she mouths into other people with a certain kind of \nlunacy only he can get. \nIt\u2019s not true, he tells himself, since it was he who wrote the scenes \nand fed her these lines. \nAlbedo stays on the other side of this insanity where she looks \ninto the camera (his eyes), and recites four pages worth of literary \ninnovations (his words). Now that the exoticism is removed from \nthis bareness while actors pretend to fill the abyss inside of Lumine, \npunctuations in exchange for ellipses, sweating under bright lights \nfor something to spill out of her entrance, to be pumped so full of the \nsea that your body leaks\u2014it makes the whole thing ironic. \nShe moans, pouts and mouths and he tells the prop team to create ","carpal mitra costata (shame comes from vanity) | 117 \na trail of snow, the slush that drains everything of saturation like a \nman being on the edge of the dark. Nobody understands what he \nmeans. Only her and her crucial lines. \n\u201cDo you think we have what it takes to win the Windblume festi- \nval?\u201d she asks later, specifically out of character but still bare, just to \nprovoke his denial of self when Lumine toys with her fingernails and \nAlbedo is supposed to rewatch the ruined footage. \nHe leans over to the hotel bed and kisses her then, lets her rouge \nlipstick stain his lips. \n\u201cI think it will win everything,\u201d he says. \nShe will bring this up when they\u2019re on the edge of the world and \nher womb is more than a space for him to store his issues. \nYou said , \nit \nnot \nwe \n, \nshe will quote. Lumine doesn\u2019t point out that he only knows \nhow to craft things, not connections. \nA film cannot bite back at you, cannot demand you to make some \n- \nthing true out of your promises when it\u2019s over and the credits roll. A \nfilm is pliant and safe. Lumine is anything but, he wants to tell her. \nBut off-script, he\u2019s devoured by the lack of sentences. His brain \nlives just to die and he tells her to fuck him like she wanted to fuck \nher dad up, because he has been reading the tabloids from her home- \ntown through clumsily translated strings, and nobody really knows \nwhat happens to the souls of children left abandoned by their par- \nents. ","118 | Midnight Oeuvres Zine \nThey entertain the arts. The arts, in return for their hospitality, \nconsume them raw. \n\u201cDon\u2019t forget what you\u2019re here for,\u201d he warns her and the man \ndesires for her body to give him a sign so badly, Albedo has missed \nthe entire street of red warnings as he cums into her and she slaps \nhis skin raw with fire. \nWhen Lumine kisses him that night, she pricks. \nHe hears the lock clicks when his back is turned. \nThey win precisely one award for \n the worst film made that year. \nShe chuckles over the phone, her voice is of a distant hatred and \nhe thinks of his fingers on her nipples, the arch of her spine when he \nhums\u2014has been as sharp as a shard of sea glass. \nYou\u2019re no different \nfrom the men who twist your strings and make you dance with your \nmother\u2019s words, \n she smiles. \nHe hasn\u2019t realised how far he\u2019s gone until the very end. \nYou said , not \nit \nwe .","carpal mitra costata (shame comes from vanity) | 119 \nThe credits roll. Worst movie of the year for its lack of authenticity \nand its portrayal of Wagonerin women as vicious beings that make \nyou scream and cry inside when you put your world into their hands, \ncreatures that let men fuck them and can have that encounter means \nnothing, incomprehensible in their acts. \nOg alt er bra. Alt er love. (And all is well. All is love.) \nHe laughs at the lines his assistant has clumsily looked up over an \nAI translator, since Lumine refuses to help the captain of a dying ship. \nMaybe she has always known. \nMaybe she lied when she told him that she wanted him to grow.","Arthenilis \narthenilis \nDiathadevil \ndiathad3vil \ndiathadevil \nGal \nsxnfulhxro \nHibari \nhibari.jpg \nKinkypeachi \nkinkypeachi \nKittenexmachina \nkittenexmachina \nPlum \npetite__plum \nRebecca Ann \nbeccabeean \nSan Aria \nsan4aria \nKoko \nKokoYuArt \nCover Art \npage 79 \npage 22 \npage 108 \npage 95 \npage 60 \npage 30 \npage 46 \npage 21 \npage 89","Emma \nunderthethousandstars \nKiriano \nkiriano_ \nLanguidnimbus \nlanguidnimbus \nregi \nahocrowregi \nscaraWHOche \nSMUGscaraWHOche \nselenauger \nseleneauger \npage 96 \npage 25 \npage 4 \npage 61 \npage 33 \npage 49 \n& 109 \n& 82","Animercom \nWriting Mod \nSRAnimercom \nMina \nCommunications Mod \n8bitdetective \nWriting Mod \nGrail \nCommunications Mod \nAFishingLantern \nFormatting Mod \nYuyu \nArt Mod \ndesign_yuyu \nGraphics Mod","@alblmizine \n@albelumizine \nThank You! \nOver the last year, the everyone has been working hard \ncomposing and creating their masterpieces! The moderators \nof Midnight Ouevres would like to express their sinceriest \ngratitude towards their precious Star Fruit, the contributors! \nThis project could not have succeeded without their passion \nand dedication to everything they've created. \nAnd of course, we can never forget the support of every \nsingle person who has been following this project from the \nfirst note! \nThank you all so much for downloading and reading \nour zine. We hope you enjoy every magnificent creation of \nMidnight Ouevres!","@alblmizine \n@albelumizine"]