paradoxically yours.

no longer active.

[antihun]

officially inactive. sorry for cutting threads off.

[gaorian-deactivated20140711]

On. Yet another wager with the devil is on, another stupid gamble to pass the time. Today, Dorian’s sight is on the line, as he stakes that he can get a girl into bed within the hour. Too easy, so easy, that even his opponent knows that the game is pointless. Nonetheless he finds himself on his way to the nearest university,  what he was looking for were a dime a dozen there. But he attracts a male instead. No matter.

[Meph: Beware of this one.]

The boy speaks such obviously empty words.

      Lost, I’m more found than ever. 

"Why, thank you for your concern. Perhaps I am a little lost, after all. " 

      All bets are off. 

[antihun]

Aiden knows. He knows there's something rather peculiar about the male in front of him, something hidden under facades of normalcy. That's the only reason he's even bothered to approach the stranger first -- altruism and general kindness is not something innate to him. Curiosity is potent, but only when it comes from him.

"Where do you want to go? Maybe I'll be going in the same direction and can help you out." I will be. He can't let this one slip away, even if his question is avoided and his offer refused.

No one escapes from death.

[pussiesaregod]

such acts rip out the soul and make space for beasts to grow inside. armies need beasts, don’t they? pet beasts, to do their terrible work! and the worst part is, it’s almost impossible to retrieve a soul that has been ripped away. almost.

[deepredlines]

[yisins-deactivated20140711]

Silence, the evil with its talons wrapped around humanity’s fate, became the laughter of the Gods as their rebellious creations dissipate into nothing but ashes; ashes unworthy of the title star dust. Humans never deserved the same title as celestials and stars; they were too small, too fragile and too sinful to be something so beautiful and magnificent. Humanity climbed on others to get to the top instead of climbing on trees like they did before evolution; they swam in the glory of bloodshed instead of the deep waters flooding over their land; they breathed in the scent of success instead of the stench of death, and breathed out the stench of death in loved ones instead of the simple carbon dioxide.

They lived for themselves, a selfish complex of Earth’s favoured creature. No matter how simple psychologists and scientists make humans sound, they are still a food web within a food web within a food web; webs of tainted emotions, expressions and personality. More than just DNA and star dust, more than just personalized lists of vague personalities, more than just a chart of steps of development in their history, they were more than that.

How Pisces hated the thought of Mother Nature, Earthly Creature, small child of amnesty, lucky enough to crawl out of space’s cold hell hole into life, lucky enough to find the right affection from Father, Creator and all that is Holy to the Stars, lucky enough to live — he digressed; life on Earth at that moment proved too difficult to keep thoughts winded together. Too many things going on, too many disturbing events; chains of barbed wires whipped over humanity and pulled out it’s throat with spikes; rose thorns, a wilted period; dominoes falling down, humans topple over each other, animals too. Chaos. Ziyi lived for it. 

His heart slowly soaked in the hatred for humanity, and his veins lacked the empathy. Yet somehow, something he hated also became something he missed. A bitter sweet forest of memories caved around him; alone in a forest of nostalgia, he stood there in his mind like he used to when Yixing locked him up. Yet something was strange, a part of him was missing. Ziyi finally had everything he ever wanted: the world without humans. Everything Yixing loved was finally gone, and along with it came Yixing. The chaotic world toppled all forces of good and pure, killing the only thing he ever loved — the unrequited love would never be filled, because his other half died along with the rest of the human scum.

And from that moment on, with feet dug deep in the grounds of decaying flesh and the stench of human souls leaving, he knew well he was not meant to have his love. They were star crossed lovers (literally and figuratively), never meant to be together no matter what. Piscis Austrinus and Piscis Boreus slowly merged itself together by a cord to only become one, no longer a constellation made of two fish balanced on a scale of good and evil.

How would he define his demons then? How would he define himself? The misanthrope could no longer call himself that because there were no humans to hate. The immoral immortal could no longer call himself that because there were no moral compasses with only rotting flesh. There was neither good nor evil, just a celestial without a guiding light. Obsidian hues flickered with a glint of hope, the last person he wanted to see, and possibly, the last person he would see.

"Not sure if you’re still sad to fucking see me or happy because your plan finally came true. My memory is a blur, how did it end? And better yet, when did you get the guts to even dare compare me to them? Humans are made of star dust, but I am made of stars collected together into a constellation. Larger than life, I’m practically their God. Practically your God."

[antihun]

“Practically your God.”

Aiden wanted to laugh. The urge was so strong that he ended up doing so, with soft chuckles escaping the loose seam of his lips, which he covered with a bloodied hand. The idea was absolutely preposterous and the fact that it was even suggested was amusing in itself. How could Ziyi even declare such a thing? But the boy wondered if it was perhaps more merciful to allow the other to live with such thoughts—

Perhaps. It would be an absolute delight to crush them either way.

"Right. You are God," the youth started while trying to hold back his emotions, though the corner of his lip twitched. "But what is God without followers? You can be God as you are now, but you’ll always be so damn insignificant. That’s a pretty sad existence to me, Ziyi.”

It truly was. The piles of corpses that surrounded the pair said more than enough without Aiden having to elaborate on his statements. Sure, Ziyi could be his god however he wanted; the brunette was so sure that he couldn’t even successfully argue otherwise if the denial ran deep, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. The words were difficult to stop from leaving as it was and there was no one else around for kilometers, so why would he even try to hold back? That wasn’t the way things ever worked with him; denial could never hide the truth.

"See, I don’t need to be a god. That’s the great thing about death," and the way that he uttered his response was ever so mocking, a deceitfully light and playful tone compared to what was actually being said. He finally turned around to face the other with eyes lit up in unusual joy that was almost never present on his features. "People don’t need to believe in me for me to be important. All I do is just exist—and that’s enough."

He took one step forward, the underside of his shoes passing through dried pools of scarlet.

"Maybe there are survivors of this apocalypse. You know what they’re trying to fight? You know what they’re trying so hard to run from? Because it certainly isn’t you." Aiden’s tongue grazed his lips as he allowed the questions to sink in for a moment. How dare Ziyi even think for a moment that he was above Death. Sure, the constellation could not die as the mortals had, but Aiden’s influence was much more omnipotent than anyone gave credit for, and that was enough. “It’s me.”

Could he agree that Ziyi, in the nature of his existence, was larger than life? Yes. What affected normal humans did not affect the being before him, that much was true, but the other’s arrogance was unfounded. Stars, in all their night sky glory, provided hope to those searching for lights in the darkness; if Aiden gave them that much. However, in the end, they all led to the same end: death. That was what gave the young male the upperhand.

"You must think you’re high and mighty, being able to kill people so easily, huh?" The brunette moved closer to his companion with a brow raised, as if asking a sincere question. "You must feel like a God, deciding how long they live and how they die. You like it, that feeling of being powerful." He clicked his tongue. "But who do you think’s giving that to you?"

Leaning in, Aiden whispered into Ziyi’s ear.

“Me.”

[likeafieldmouse-deactivated2015]

I wondered if a memory is something you have or something you’ve lost.

Woody Allen (via xxwoobin)

[antihun]

☣ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛɪᴇs ; antihun & decyphers

decyphers started following you

alternate universe set in the future in which aiden and yoongi are dream espionage agents. their current objective is to steal a groundbreaking idea that is implanted in the mind of an important ceo and then pollute his dreams so that he forgets that the idea has ever existed in the first place (since dreams are often forgotten in their wake). this job can either make or break their careers, but something doesn't go as planned. (more info here)

A flight from Seoul to New York City takes a little over fourteen hours. You have that amount of time to extract the idea and make him forget he ever had it. You two will be paid a lot of money for this if it goes well.

Aiden lies behind the scope of a sniper rifle and waits patiently, seconds ticking away in his head. Yoongi has told him that the dream recorder has been observed to be a woman of normal height with shoulder-length black hair, adorned by a red blouse and black pencil skirt. It makes her easy to spot through the scope from the tall building that the male is currently hiding in. He has five minutes to find her and take her out—just barely enough time that his partner has allotted for this assassination while he had been creating the dream.

The boy looks at his watch. It works in the time of the dream, so he’s okay, but he’s not used to the avatar he’s been changed to when he takes a glance at the window and sees his outer reflection. Now he’s an (in his opinion) uglier boy with hazel eyes and blond hair with a stature that’s a bit bulkier than his real life one, though he can see his original self just fine when he’s not staring at mirrors or reflective glass. Aiden’s eye widens when he sees the target walking out of the glass building across the street and his finger closes in on the trigger. The weapon is carefully positioned before he fires it, and it’s a few seconds before he sends confirmation to Yoongi.

"The projections have crowded around the recorder in a panic. Get over here now." That’s all he says into the wireless device in his ear before the line clicks silent.

Aiden’s not stupid—time is of the essence here. They’ve already spent a few days trying to figure out who the recorder is, and that only leaves a few days more to enact their plan to take the idea. Yoongi has reconstructed the dream so that everyone is diverted to the “woman’s” death instead and they can sneak away into the nearby hotel and go for the second phase which will plunge them another layer deeper into the dream. Aiden meets the other in the lobby of the building empty-handed except for the glock hidden in his jacket.

"I’ve already checked us into the hotel," the boy explains to the older male as they head over to the said building, pandemonium behind them still going on. "I didn’t go over five minutes, did I?"

[aravis-tarkheena-archive]

Character stats framework.

[antihun]

Full Name: (legally registered as) Oh Sehun; Aiden Wu

Age: Appears to be twenty.

Birthday: (legally registered as) April 12, 1994.

Species: Unknown. Most likely demon.

Nationality: Unknown. Legally, he’s Korean.

Sex: Male.

Religion: Formerly shintoist, but only due to the forced assimilations of Koreans into Japanese culture during the occupation.

Occupation: Pre-law student at Korea University. Intern at the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office of the Republic of Korea.

Status: Active.

Fandom: KRP.

Face Claim: Oh Sehun of EXO.

Physical Traits

Eye color(s): Dark brown.

Hair color(s): Currently black, though he has bleached it platinum blond before.

Height: 181 cm.

Weight: 66.5 kg.

Body build: Lean, slight muscle definition.

Notable physical traits: Bandages around his neck. Sometimes they’re hidden.

Phobias and Diseases

Phobia(s): None.

Mental Disease(s): None—at least any that are officially diagnosed..

When and how was this diagnosed?: -

Physical Disease(s): None.

When was this diagnosed and/or how did it happen?: -

Personality

Moral Alignment: test here.

Chaotic Evil || A chaotic evil character does whatever his greed, hatred, and lust for destruction drive him to do. He is hot-tempered, vicious, arbitrarily violent, and unpredictable. If he is simply out for whatever he can get, he is ruthless and brutal. If he is committed to the spread of evil and chaos, he is even worse. Thankfully, his plans are haphazard, and any groups he joins or forms are poorly organized. Typically, chaotic evil people can be made to work together only by force, and their leader lasts only as long as he can thwart attempts to topple or assassinate him. Chaotic evil is sometimes called demonic because demons are the epitome of chaotic evil. Chaotic evil is the best alignment you can be because it combines self-interest and pure freedom. However, chaotic evil can be a dangerous alignment because it represents the destruction not only of beauty and life but also of the order on which beauty and life depend.

Jung: test here.

INTJ: Introvert (44%), iNtuitive (25%), Thinking (75%), Judging (56%)

Enneagram: test here.

Type Three: The Achiever Threes are self-assured, attractive, and charming. Ambitious, competent, and energetic, they can also be status-conscious and highly driven for advancement. They are diplomatic and poised, but can also be overly concerned with their image and what others think of them. They typically have problems with workaholism and competitiveness. At their Best: self-accepting, authentic, everything they seem to be—role models who inspire others.

Type Five: The Investigator Fives are alert, insightful, and curious. They are able to concentrate and focus on developing complex ideas and skills. Independent, innovative, and inventive, they can also become preoccupied with their thoughts and imaginary constructs. They become detached, yet high-strung and intense. They typically have problems with eccentricity, nihilism, and isolation. At their Best: visionary pioneers, often ahead of their time, and able to see the world in an entirely new way.

Four Temperaments: test here.

Your temperament is choleric. The choleric temperament is fundamentally ambitious and leader-like. They have a lot of aggression, energy, and/or passion, and try to instill it in others. They can dominate people of other temperaments, especially phlegmatic types. Many great charismatic military and political figures were choleric. They like to be in charge of everything. However, cholerics also tend to be either highly disorganized or highly organized. They do not have in-between setups, only one extreme to another. As well as being leader-like and assertive, cholerics also fall into deep and sudden depression. Essentially, they are very much prone to mood swings. 

Stats

Compassion: 0/10.

Empathy: 2/10.

Creativity: 6/10.

Mental Flexibility: 7/10.

Passion/Motivation: 6/10.

Education: 10/10.

Stamina: 10/10.

Physical Strength: 10/10.

Battle Skill: 10/10.

Initiative: 4/10.

Restraint: 7/10.

Agility: 10/10.

Strategy: 9/10.

Teamwork: 3/10.

Look here, here, and here.

Musical-Rhythmic Intelligence: 4/10.

Visual-Spatial Intelligence: 8/10.

Verbal-Linguistic Intelligence: 9/10.

Logical-Mathematical Intelligence: 7/10.

Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence: 9/10.

Interpersonal Intelligence: 4/10.

Intrapersonal Intelligence: 6/10.

Existential Intelligence: 6/10.

Naturalistic Intelligence: 1/10.

[antihun]

☣ ɴᴀʀᴄɪssɪsᴛɪᴄ ᴛᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴄɪᴇs ; antihun & virxse

virxse started following you

Aiden never quite understood Sehun’s interest in social experiments—okay, perhaps that was a half-lie, because Aiden did like doing his own type of research… Just not of the more sensual nature. He preferred the ruins of a human mind over the landscapes of their bodies (though he did occasionally enjoy the latter). How he had been persuaded to take part in this one, he didn’t know fully, but he thought it could’ve been the way that the other messaged him with promises of lingerie while Aiden was leaving the prosecutor’s office. That explained everything: why he was sitting in a karaoke room when he didn’t even enjoy singing, why he waited for the kid to show up, why he even paid for the goddamned time.

Curiosity was potent. Aiden was utterly curious. He had fucked (with) many people, but never any that had such an uncanny resemblance to himself, and he could only vaguely wonder how he looked in the heat of the moment. It dawned on him that seeing his acquaintance clad in skimpy garments was a physical representation of himself in such a state, but the dismay soon faded; he knew he would look good anyway.

His phone laid idly on the table with its screen dimmed in the dingy room. Aiden had turned the television on for the sake of distraction, and he was lucky that this room had a perpetually foggy window without the sticky mess usually left by its previous occupants. When the male caught sight of a camera, he chuckled to himself, wondering if anyone was going to watch the romp that would inevitably take place in this very space. Only when he heard the door click open did Aiden look up, a brow briefly raised before his features relaxed into their default apathy.

"You invite me out and show up late. Shame on you."

[antihun]

yisins started following you

alternate universe in which the apocalypse has passed and eradicated most of the human race, but yixing and aiden are the only known survivors (if they can be called that). they are aware of the nature of each other's existences.

Humans were made of stardust. They were all composed of the same lights under their skin. It was a romantic notion that Aiden had once come across while taking a mandatory physics class, a theory of astronomy that orbited around his head before going off course during the collapse of humanity.

The boy scrunched his nose from the strong stench of decomposing flesh, a hand coming up to block it out, and he nudged a corpse with one foot. For kilometers, he could see the bloody piles strewn haphazardly on and off the roads of a Seoul that once was, delighting in the setting that chaos had painted around him. The thought of mankind's desperation brought a slight smile to the male's lips as he stepped along roads of burgundy. Each body he passed was a reminder of the events he had just witnessed a few days ago, of the insanity in one man's eyes as he attempted to subdue Aiden when he wouldn't pave the way to futile escape.

Stardust. The physics lesson had not been a fallacy after all, though Aiden did feel a vague sense of disappointment course throughout him when he found that the sands of a former human were dull as they slipped between his fingers. He pretended that they were greater than they truly were for his own sake, an insatiable amusement. It was true that every human was made of light (set ablaze by a nearby gas can that was ignited) until they ceased to burn. He had watched the destruction of a night sky. A solar system. A galaxy that would no longer be--but there was stardust all around him. It only took peeling away outer skin to reveal it. His professor's words echoed in his mind while he walked between rotting nebulas, dimensions that he would never truly understand.

The male tilted his head up when he heard footsteps pad behind his own, and he turned to find that a constellation had stood before him, as resilient as he remembered. Pisces. Aiden was not interested in interacting with such a meek character unless he could once again reunite with Ziyi, a chance to play a game to entertain his perpetual state of existence.

"You didn't die along with the rest of them," the youth commented once with a slight smile that twisted his lips more than curved them before he wiped a stray blood stain on his cheek. He didn't even bother to look at the other. "I thought you were made of the same things as they were."

[mid-dayskinclub]

[antihun]

dorihyun started following you

Off. There was something off about the fellow before him, but Aiden said nothing--he only let his gaze rest on the strange man before it moved elsewhere.

Books were cradled in his arms, as he was on the way to his university library before coming across the other. It was that time where school work was swamping him because he had simply been too lazy to do it earlier and now that was coming back to bite him.

"Are you lost, sir?" He finally asked. Honestly, there was no intention to help the stranger, but Aiden wanted to find out what exactly the one before him was.

[scarletxichor-deactivated201507]

【 Divine scarlet drawn on pretty lips ━ pretty red splashed against pale canvas; it twists and curves like a serpent in white snow.

Ready to sink against pounding organ.

Twisted and immoral! Innocence tainted with grotesqueness, but unseen! Pretty faces deceive and deceive ━ righteous queen hummed a sweet sigh, dark lashes batted, moon shaped orbs saddened as she lured a potential victim into her deadly web.

Curtains dropped.

Sceneries changed.

Ah, beautiful actor, have you come to play with the queen? 】

❝Perhaps I was.

Perhaps he has been found.

Would you be able to help a poor maiden?❞

[antihun]

Up close, her visage was more or less obvious to experienced eyes, so when she approached him, there was a polite smile painted on Aiden’s lips. Pretend was a game that they both seem to be good at, but no one had yet to beat Death—an entity who had escaped reality yet festered in it. He saw a vain queen seated upon a throne bathed in the blood of innocents who had dared cross her, yet all her fingers were spotless.

The male moved his gaze up to the clock behind her and it was perfect timing. With a wave of his hand, the youth leaned in to address one of the employees, notifying them of the beginning to his break after helping the lovely lady before him. When all formalities were done, Aiden motioned his head forward to signal for the other to follow him; privacy was of the utmost importance, after all.

"Now, now, that may work with others, but not with me," he mused aloud, voice light as if he were speaking of the weather once they reached an empty conference room. "As far as I’m aware of, you have yet to know the definition of poor, seeing how many people you have to do your bidding. What do you seek me out for, your highness?”

It was hilarious, the way the high and mighty title tumbled off his lips.

[antihun]

scarletxichor started following you

Red--oh, glorious red! A color that painted the canvas of Aiden's past, a familiar stain on his fingertips from former days that had long passed, a hue that he was unabashedly familiar with.

Humans were so awfully weak. He knew this long ago, in the chaos of war and its effects, but to see the woman before him brought a quirk of an amused smile on Murder's lips. When he saw her eyes, he saw his corrupting influence; the bloodlust that cracked her very existence was his and his alone. Whether or not she knew of it was no matter. His pride was built on its own foundation. The presence of other people merely emphasized or bloated it, neither of which Aiden minded much.

Ah, but pretenses. His head hung low in feigned respect as a superior passed him by in the prosecutor's office, but that didn't stop the intern from sneaking a look at the seemingly innocent woman near the front desk. All he saw was red, red, red.

"Are you looking for someone?" He asked slowly, delicately, though he had no doubt she would catch onto the different nature of his existence.

[moved-antihun-deactivated201309]

♞ a different toxin ; jonginiah x antihun (dropped)

[dark-may-deactivated20150128]

An eerie presence clung onto wispy clouds, which stretched to his east, and his west, obscuring all but a bit of the moon. Now, the facade that Kai flaunted never hinted a boy who enjoyed the mere art of observation, but the ominous feeling that mingled with the air, let him know, that something, something, wasn’t right. He liked to think, that the night was his mistress, who strode along his side, and accompanied him whenever true loneliness kicked in. A true beauty, who wore a cape of black, which hung atop the buildings, and stretched across the city. His companion; one he spoke to, since there never was anyone else. Though tonight, her lips were sealed, as if to conceal a wicked secret— and it was all familiar. Far too familiar. 

Sure, superstitions filled the streets of Korea; believers of spirits, ghosts and other supernatural creatures existed, but the whole topic was of no concern to Kai. It was simply the fact that beings such as those never bothered him all that much, and that was proven when he came eye to eye with one (named Luhan), who didn’t turn out to be as frightening as the books made his kind seem. Yes, gruesome, the demon was, but they had somehow taken a liking to each other, and Kai couldn’t bring himself to fear the underworld as humans normally should. Instead, the idea of becoming a demon enticed him, and being a human who seemingly had two souls in the pits of his interior, he wished to get rid of the other— of Jongin. He could only hope that in the process of the trade to become a part of the devil, it would mean that he could sacrifice Jongin’s soul.  Strained fingers then writhed, and curled, before stretching into the most supreme state of ease; a custom that had become quite instinctive for the lad, especially after the many tedious hours of playing the piano. Though then again, perhaps a bit of anxiety was now resting in the depths of his bones; he couldn’t shake off the thought that he should be wary of his surroundings. With calculated steps, and a soft hum underneath his breath, he’d casually glance at every alleyway, as well as over his shoulder, to make sure no one was watching, or following.  The heart of the city was long behind him; loud beats were suffocated by silence, and the farther he walked, the more still the air became. But then Kai snorted to himself, and a soft chuckled followed past, because clearly, he had been watching too many horror films; there was obviously nothing to be cautious about. His once tense shoulders, then slumped slightly to finally relax as he picked up his pace. He was expecting company at home, and couldn’t possibly turn down the opportunity of tongue twisting against tongue; sloppy alcohol induced kisses with a side of fucking (if he was lucky of course). But then again, Kai liked to think that he was one of the few humans left on the planet who actually looked physical attractive, thus leading to the fact that yes, he was pretty (always) lucky with women. The faint sound of little mice scampering about the streets broke his string of thoughts, whilst long lashes dipped in to pepper the peaks of his cheekbones with little pecks as he peered into the distance. His home was going to be quite the walk. After a soft sigh, he decided to fill his newly emptied lungs up with the atmosphere, although the supposedly pure air had the lingering smell of… blood. The tinny taste settled on the buds of his tongue, and left him more curious than anything. His longing desire to watch the owner of his body twist and struggle, quiver and twitch, and cry out in absolute agony, was suddenly evoked. That thought, and a swift turn, was all it took for him to walk towards the direction of the scent. Eager footsteps sounded the air, and amidst the fast-paced walk, Kai’s knuckles went white. Short nails dug into his golden skin, while teeth sank almost painfully deep into his plush bottom lip— it had been a while since his airway had last been seized by this metallic…fragrance. A murderer’s perfume (though in his case— a murderer in the making). Kai licked his lips in anticipation; he had been craving this— this, this was good.  His ears quickly caught on to the faint sound of bones cracking, and slurred cursing. And although his own breathing muffled the pleading of the man who’s death was near, he could still make out the picture in his mind, but it was no where near the sight he saw when he arrived (quite a dull imagination, Kai had, it seemed). Incapacitated by the scene, his vacant eyes fixated upon a pale figure, whose voice once seemed so awfully distance, but was now suddenly clear. Kai made sure to stay out of sight, and his brows knitted together at the revolting view of a ghastly body. The soft, and slow pit-pat of the deep crimson, which trickled down the hands of the pallid-skinned boy, landed upon fingers that twitched continuously, before finally coming to a stop. The man was more than dead, and the view was utterly disgusting. Though as much as Kai’s stomach churned, and the feeling of throwing up swelled his throat (it surprised him, how human he still was), the flaming wish to switch spots with the killer was much too extreme. And being the impulsive boy that he was, his body leaned against the brick of the building beside him as he broke into a loud applaud at the stranger’s repulsive act. "I must say," the corner of his lip quirked upward, "that was quite the show," his hands then came to a stop, and stuffed into the comfort his pockets instead, "it’s a shame I came last minute though." 

[antihun]

The most interesting aspect of Sehun’s existence was what little time it took for him to completely abandon humanity. Even in death, he had heard a plethora of stories depicting ancestral spirits still roaming as if they were still alive; he also heard a fruitful number of accounts where the ghosts of people past tried to fall into the routines they possessed while still alive— he was not one of those individuals. If he were honest, the demon quite enjoyed the lack of human conscience and morality that once hindered him from his true, primal desires. It seemed that with the loss of life came the status of an unknown god. Laws that were once above him plunged into an abyss of much lower status than he and soon dissolved whatever relevance they had.

While trying to scrape off the bits of skin and dried blood trapped under his fingernails, the demon’s gaze swept over the corpse that laid in front of him. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips— he had, in his hastiness, forgotten to think of a method to rid of the body. It was at this moment that the male found himself missing his usual companion, Wrath (in whatever vessel he had now), for the other sin’s lightning power had proved rather useful in erasing all physical traces of their victims. Allowing a moment of silence for his eyes to return to normal hues, the boy’s fine features twisted into a grimace when he realized that the scarlet trapped in his skin was beginning to turn an uglier, darker red.

Footsteps providing the little noise actually in the narrow passageway did not alarm Sehun, who just stood in place until the movement came to a stop. When he finally did turn around, the male found himself accompanied by a physical reminder of someone else, but the aura of the unfamiliar. It took a moment, perhaps two, for his gaze to wander over the other’s form before he temporarily discarded it. The being who stumbled upon him would be a human, which was synonymous to “nuisance” in the demon’s train of thought, for a formerly absent liability now made itself evident. There was more work to be done than to just allow the corpse to rot away as peacefully as possible.

"You would be a terrible murderer," was Sehun’s initial comment to the stranger, a soft scoff then leaving his lips as he shook his free hand to dispel the caking color from his skin, “you’re too loud.”

Upon truly gazing at the intruder, Sehun chuckled at the faint repulsion lingering in the other’s expression. Words were words, no matter the conviction behind them; though occasionally deceiving, appearances provided much more truth than language did. The demon found himself entertained by the contrasting sliver of humanity emanating from the opposite male because, while his had been lost decades ago; there was much to be learned and amused by the new generation of the living. However, the disruption to normalcy that he noted piqued much more of his interest— it was always the ones who slowly began a descent into madness that he reaped the most excitement from.

Sehun wondered, a pause in his actions, whether he was much like that while being human.

Shaking the thought off (there was not much value in pondering over past fragments), his attention returned to the stranger. His eyes glinted with a newer emotion, masked by the straight line of apathy toying with his lips, though he was unsure if it would be seen in the prevailing darkness. The male took a step forward, bottle still in hand, but it now had a new purpose. He delighted in the dominating silence after the obnoxious clapping had stopped — after all, it would be unfortunate if anymore individuals were to stumble upon this scene — and finally spoke soft words, tongue clicking afterward.

"A shame it is, indeed, for you missed the best part. Not to fret, though, this one was not very vocal. The louder ones provide much more amusement," a vague reminder of a smirk curled the corner of his lip.

He had not planned on silencing more than one individual for the night, but he toyed with the idea that the younger human would be much more satisfying than the one that bled behind him. The humans with less age were almost always more vocal or teary when Sehun allowed them a moment to beg, for the simple reason that they thought their lives too premature to end. There was also a certain bitterness and he thought that, perhaps, they would learn the same lesson he did while his limbs were torn by the searing train, a mere eighteen-year-old ripped apart by a cruel twist of fate— and intoxication (that the boy always denied).

His gaze turned to the green glass, slender top trapped between two thin fingers. The appendages were coated with a rustic red, something fairly distasteful to Sehun — who preferred a much brighter scarlet — and he desired not to stain them much more this evening. His digits curled around the bottle neck before they smashed the item against the brick wall, broken pieces and liquid spilling onto the alley ground. The boy, with dark irises, lifted the whole remains of the bottle in his hand, as if checking the sharpness of the jagged edges, before tracing one down the flesh of his thumb to draw blood. A mere test, both for the new weapon and the stranger who stood a few feet away.

[arachneia]

♞ a different toxin ; jonginiah x antihun (dropped)

[antihun]

typist note: Just reposting because I deleted my original account, but this is the para I’m most proud of and want to show off in my tag wails.

—

Someone once told Sehun that alcohol was the most lethal type of poison. It was probably someone in his human days — or was it another person’s memory, because each broken recollection in his head was like looking into a fogged mirror of the past — that the boy had paid no mind to until it was that very sweet taste of intoxication that landed the pieces of his body six-feet-under. Looking down at the unbecoming man below, the truth in that statement was becoming evident because the demon was playing a very big hand in the unfortunate man’s fate if he had a say. Either way, he was much too dead to do much with anymore, and the person whose collar was in the male’s grip was about to learn the very lesson that cost Sehun a painful amount of things.

"Someone like you should not drink if you cannot handle it," and the demon clicked his tongue, as if to chide the man who was (physically) much older than he was. The pudgy, red face distorted into a show of infuriation, shown by the chaotic attempt at grabbing Sehun’s clothing with trembling fingers, unsteady with the alcohol in its streams. The show made something reminiscent of a smirk twitch the corner of the boy’s lip up, though his fine features then quickly twisted in revulsion at the very realization that the other’s mere grime was getting onto his clothing. It was amusing how his victim was able to cling so desperately to the bottle of soju with one hand and the other dedicated to inflicting some sort of damage to the demon, but…

While black began bleeding into his sclera, Sehun relished in the faint sound of bones beginning to crack under the strength of his limb atop the male, though he also indulged himself in the relentless mix of pleas and cussing sounding in the musty air. His favorite part of these kills was always the way that the humans begged for mercy, their life— the most entertaining were the ones who sunk onto their knees whenever the demon offered a small interval for them to murder their prides and fall before him. Their implorations did, interestingly enough for those who knew Sehun, play a role in the decision to permanently encase them in their bodies or silence them for the rest of eternity. When his inked eyes caught sight of the bottle (it was very fortunate that a bit of the streetlights seeped into the alleyway), he removed his foot from the man’s spine and slammed it onto the curled hand, then making sure that the glass encasing had rolled out of reach and that there was a pained noise erupting from chapped lips.

The removal of the demon’s shoe was all it took for the man to begin attempting to crawl and crying out for help with a hoarse tone and slurred words. Sehun allowed the charade of escape to go on for a few moments — he was feeling rather kind tonight, since the boy was a drinker himself — before taking a few calm steps and catching up to the other. A smirk crossed his lips before he tutted in disapproval and spoke with a hand gripping the nape of the male’s thick neck, “now, now, we can’t have you attracting so much attention to yourself, can we?”

Nails ripped into the soft flesh before his fingers delved into the little meat that the neck had to offer to Sehun; when an aperture had been opened, the male shoved his other’s hand’s digits into the reddened opening before curling under the spinal cord. In a split second, the rings had been torn from their connecting muscle and the boy allowed the body to fall onto the ground with a ‘thump’, the gaping hole left to aggregate the gushing scarlet before the rest sunk onto the pavement. After observing the skeletal piece held by his fingertips, the boy dropped it into the puddle forming near the edges of his toes— it needed a little color, after all, much like Sehun’s skin.

He watched the fine color soak into the crevices of his hand, the particularly large congregate of blood in his palm reflecting the illumination of the nearby streetlight. With a grimace, Sehun turned the appendage down so the stained liquid could drip from the tips of his fingers down to the rest of its kind. Now, the boy thought himself a person who quite suited the color red, but not the disgusting type that poured from this human’s arteries and veins— Sehun was deserving of a purer, better kind to saturate his skin with.

Taking a few steps back led the male to knocking the forgotten glass bottle back into wall with the heel of his shoe. He scoffed softly to himself and bent down to trap the bottleneck between two bloodied digits, lifting the green body up to swirl what little remained of the drink.

[arachneia]

♞ into your gravity ; self-para (original!verse)

[antihun]

Lay your head down, child; I won’t let the boogeyman come. ( I must isolate you and save you from yourself… )

There’s a trepidation in the way that Sehun remembers things, an unsettling feeling of missing pieces that courses through his limbs as blank pupils stare up at the ceiling. His body presses into the mattress as much as gravity allows and the force wraps around his lithe form for a moment before releasing it with violent reluctance; the demon is trembling in the wake of his sleeplessness while an indescribable ache settles around his eyes. With shaking feet, he steps through empty hallways that veil cobwebs of Yifan’s absence along the dusty corners of white walls that are dimmed by weak lighting. Exhaustion travels through his veins in bursts of oxygen in the vessels and it’s not the type that comes to humans after long hours of insomnia, but the different kind that makes it difficult to move.

A voice of past reminders echoes and occupies the space that the boy offers. He finds that memories are his companions most days— it’s almost akin to watching a film that only his mind has memorized to the last detail. Distortions of female figures and lavender flowers scatter across the canvas of his mind and there is almost the ghostly touch of a missing mother that reminds Sehun of days where he sits on the bare mattress as a child in fits of illness, waiting for that gentle contact of a mother to wash over him and calm the demons that claw at his vulnerability. There is an uttering of spiritual warning that teases out of his memory-mother’s lips and he remembers wide eyes meeting his own childlike ones before watching another ritual to ward off “the evil dead” lingering in the room of their cramped home.

He remembers his mother’s evening routines (for some odd reason, those memories have also stayed with him). His young self does not know what his mother does, but he pretends to see. There’s always the illusion of the weak woman standing before him with sticks of incense trapped between two thin fingers. The smoke is almost real enough for the the scent of burning oils to billow in the living room— for a moment, Sehun almost believes he’s caught sight of a ghost that his mother’s harsh words describe, but that vision is as quick to disappear as it is to dance along the surface across from the kitchen counter.

“They will snatch you when you sleep, Sehun.”

There’s a frenzied panic to the words that sound only in his head and he remembers blood shot eyes staring right into his own before weak hands curl tight fingers into a child’s shoulders and shake him back and forth in shallow motions. It’s not just a memory that haunts, but how the syllables have sunken so deep under his skin that they reverberate to his bones even after his death. The shards of lost lives begin to mesh within the confines of his skull so haphazardly that Sehun eventually becomes unsure of the memories that belong to his humanity and those that have helped stripped others of theirs.

Allowing himself a moment’s reprise with the closing of his eyes is a mistake. The demon knows not the tug and drowning of slumber, but only the myriad of recollections that ignite under his eyelids, greeting him with shrill screams ripping from the throats of violated girls, or the desperation in a man’s eyes when he realizes that the final moments of his life have dawned upon him. By the time that he’s able to tear himself away from the nightmares of reality, a thin sheet of sweat has coated his skin and melted into a subtle stickiness.

Forcing himself to walk on unsteady feet, Sehun lets his vision be obscured by a veil of momentary darkness, though he swears that he feels his mother’s hand press over his eyes with her murmurs of invisible ghosts.

Do you fall asleep to the rhythm of the war drum?