an epiphany

every bullet, every tear - collected into the stars of his eyes. he whispers the eternity across the skin of his enemies before they become ghosts among the night, but no time is spent worrying over the past. his present is momentary, as is the future. he lives in the loop of his memories, his focus being his greatest weapon as he looks on far the apple of his eye. there is no room for error, no room for displeasure, and if he has any say in the world it is this: that everything balances on the line of life and death - and dagda seeks to serve both equally dagda / android / 26-3 / criminal

[toastjy]

meow meow meow ♡ 

[j-miki]

[yienbot]

[yienbot]

[dvdagda-blog]

💥 💛 🎁 !!

send 💥 for the game they’d destroy everyone else at

“poker.” his answer is short and straightforward, but the smirk tugging on his lips says it all. he owes it to being an android - his level of processing capabilities and memorization of tricks and bluffing allows him to easily guess which cards would be drawn next, his own input going nicely long for the ride. other people would call it a scam and curse him to high heavens as he drags their chips towards him, but dagda can only smile and shrug, leaving them to deal with the manager.

send 💛 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard about my muse

"𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔞 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔦 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔰"

send 🎁 for my muse to describe one thing on their personal wishlist

“i’d like to get a respray for my gun, if that counts?” dagda shrugs a bit, a small smile tugging on his lips. his weapon of choice, a yakuza 16 compact pistol, had been with him ever since he was first reactivated for his new owner. the gun practically goes through everything with dagda, and such turmoil has become very evident as wear and tear begins to take hold. “it was red before, but i mean...” he trails off, rolling his eyes in a dismissive manner. “i’m thinking of maybe getting it painted grey this time, or a nice deep purple.” he nods to himself, the visual components already filling his head as he thinks of what color would look best.

[dvdagda-blog]

👮 🎁 😵

send 👮 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard about my muse’s occupation

“𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔯𝔞𝔫 𝔯𝔢𝔡”

send 🎁 for my muse to describe one thing on their personal wishlist

“hm, my wishlist?” dagda’s eyes narrow in thought, his head tilting slightly at the question. “well, i don’t really have a wishlist, nothing i’m not content with in the moment. however,” he pauses briefly to slide his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “i would like a new jacket. the one i usually wear is torn up from work and probably has more nastiness all over it than all the strippers in eden club combined.” he lets out a short huff, an attempt at humorous laughter, his hand coming up to scratch his head.

send 😵 for my muse to tell you something they hate

“anyone who knows me well enough can tell you, hands down, i cannot stand people who say they know what they’re doing but only fuck stuff up.” a scowl shadows over dada’s face, his arms crossing across his chest in annoyance. “if you act confident, you better deliver. otherwise, you have a one-way ticket out of here, in more ways than one.”

[dvdagda-blog]

~ ooc

mkay, ‘scuse me while i slam my head against a wall reAL QUICK!! i want to apologize wholeheartedly for not getting to replies whatsoever/answering my meme monday asks - i’ve been running around quite a bit and with my first week of school just ending everything has been a bit hectic. good news is, my year has kinda leveled out now so i’ll definitely be better at keeping up activity with dagda here. please don’t kill me, my poor soul can only survive on potatoes and dubstep for so long ;-;

please enjoy this gif of dagda eating a banana because potassium is GOOD

[toastjy]

[toastjy]

[dvdagda-blog]

⭐️🌹💬💋~

⭐️ (or multiple) for a headcanon about our muses 

whenever soojung goes live, dagda practically glues himself to the couch and refuses to let his eyes leave the tv. despite not knowing why someone can’t just stick their head outside to check the weather and why people get so worked up over a robotic tiger running loose in the zoo, he still makes tuning into the news everyday a part of his daily ritual, the excitement of seeing her overruling any confusion of how human life worked.

🌹 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard for our muses

𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕪 𝕤𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 // " 𝕚'𝕝𝕝 𝕝𝕒𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 "

💬 and my muse will say what they really think about yours

“if there is anyone in this world who truly cares about me, it’s soojung.” he smiles to himself, a warmth spreading across his body at the mention of her name. “there are people who fight and never reconcile, there are people who use others only as stepping-stones in life, and there are people who hold no honor to their name that lie and cheat - we are none of those. i understand soojung better than anyone, and she understands me better than anyone, and at the end of the day i know that the only thing that will ever change with how i feel about her is me loving her more and more as the seconds go by.”

💋 for how my muse would seduce/flirt with yours

it starts out slow - fingers dancing across exposed skin, the pressing of his lips against her collarbone, the feeling of their bodies flush against each other. he does not speak, instead allowing only the touches of his physicality to bring the message of his wanting across in the moment. teeth grazing her neck, arms wrapping around her waist to pull her closer, whispers of sweet nothings in her ear - give only enough to cause for want and leave the rest up to them, his time spent with soojung has taught him that much, and so he waits until she grips her fingers in his hair and calls out his name to finally take her there.

[deviantkrp]

GAMES / send 🎤 and i’ll make a short playlist for our muses send 🎼 for a song that reminds me of our muses send 🌹 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard for our muses send 💛 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard about my muse send 👗 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard about my muse’s fashion style send 👶 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard about my muse’s childhood send 🏠 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard about my muse’s home aesthetics send 🍕 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard about my muse’s favorite foods send 👮 and i’ll make an aesthetic/moodboard about my muse’s occupation send ✉ for a written letter from my muse send 💬 and my muse will say what they really think about yours send 👤+ a muse name for my muse’s opinion on that muse   send ⭐️ (or multiple) for a headcanon about our muses send 👀 for my muse to compliment yours send 😍 for my muse to tell yours three things they love about them send 🍎 and my muse will tell yours why they’re thankful for send 😵 for my muse to tell you something they hate send 🍵 and my muse will reveal one of their biggest regrets send 🎁 for my muse to describe one thing on their personal wishlist send ☎ for your muse’s info in my muses phone (name, ringtone, picture, last text received/sent) send ☄️ for 2-4 songs that are always in their playlists send 💫 for one place they sometimes end up falling asleep send 💥 for the game they’d destroy everyone else at send 🌙 for the emoticon they’d use most often send ✨ for what my muse would act like when they haven’t gotten enough sleep send 💐 for how they take care of themselves while in a slump send 🍂 for what they wanted to be when they grew up send 🌈 for my muse’s favorite kind of weather send ✔️ for a daydream my muse has had about/involving yours send 💋 for how my muse would seduce/flirt with yours send  👏 and try to fluster my muse (anything goes!)

EXTRA / 

↖️ this cutie is now accepting curious anons !

🔍 + a rumor and my muse will react to it.

** please reblog to signal that you’d like to play along & feel free to cross things out that you’d rather not do !

[dvdagda-blog]

⇀ ‏pass it on ↽ 『dagda / soojung』

[dvdagda-blog]

dvxsoojung‌:

The streets that were once smooth new tarmac were now greyed by the bleaching of the sun. The roads were a monochrome patchwork, each lined with a shiny border of tar. Despite the fixes, cracks were still present, and the potholes grew larger with each passing day. The trees that were once fine saplings with soft spring foliage are now gnarled embittered trees growing tall but without strength, competing unnaturally against the towering apartment blocks they were planted too close to. Their bark mossy from the perennial dampness and incessant rain, except a few weeks of reprieve in the summer months. The sidewalk, for the most part, was still smooth concrete, albeit scattered with litter and the debris of the molting trees. Pedestrians went about their daily regard, heads-down walking to their destinations. By day, the diner, down by Gangnam, was the color of burnt wood, it had a modern rough look, and the sound of old western tunes poured out of its open doors along with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee — something Soojung lacked at the moment. Heels clicking with the quickened pace, she caught sight of her new informant sitting just outside the building, coffee mug in hand.  ❝You must be the one who called for an interview? I’m terribly sorry, my morning hasn’t been going as planned. Quite frankly, I wasn’t sure you would still be here.❞ With a quick bow, she extended a hand in greeting. ❝I’m Han Soojung with Channel 16. It’s a pleasure to meet you.❞ 』

the first thing that truly strikes him is her voice. the reporter’s words, crisp and clear like an autumn wind, ring in his ear, tempting him to speak in advances towards her apology. a low hum reverberates in his throat as he merely cocks his head to the side in thought, the only response given being his silence and a trivial gaze. his movements are slow and calculated, his hand rising to take hold of her awaiting one, and then comes the second thing that strikes him - her grip. dagda can read people very well, in fact he knew exactly what she was going to do when entering the cafe, but he finds that it is always different to touch and feel the layers of a painting rather than to just watch it from afar. his fingers are much longer than hers, strong and thin like ancient willow branches, yet beneath his grip he can feel her small hand against his, the strength of years of similar interactions pressing into his bones, and that’s when he realizes just how difficult it was going to be to get rid of her.

“it is a.... pleasure to meet you as well ms. han, although i wish under better circumstances.” he speaks low yet in a confident manner, a tactic to minimize other passerby hearing the thoughts passed between them. “my name is.... actually, i would prefer to remain anonymous if that is alright?” he watches her carefully, the corner of his lips tugging slightly. dagda knows that he can remain anonymous if he so chooses, but for all manners and purposes he decides it would be best to remain polite for the time being.

“please, sit. i’m sure you have questions for me.” of course she would, he adds silently to himself. she’s a reporter, and has there ever been a reporter that didn’t come with questions? on second thought, dagda believed there was, although the woman seemed like the type to come prepared.

just not on time, he supposed.

his hands come to rest on the table, pushing the coffee to the side as he turned to look around the cafe for the waiter who had previously been servicing him. one of the things he had learned in his time with his owner, was that comfortability was everything. once someone felt even the smallest inking of safety, they would start rambling like a fratboy going on 10 shots, and if dagda wanted to find out just how much the reporter knew about the case (as well as an outside source to see just how much he fucked up at the murder), getting the waiter over here to take her order was the perfect solution.

[marktuan-xciii]

[roseband]

[toastjy]

[dvdagda-blog]

⇀ ‏frankenstein ↽ 『dagda / jaejin』

the first time dagda felt another’s blood on his skin and the weight of their death on his shoulders, he was unsure of how to react. his programming had disengaged him from the human emotions of guilt and revulsion - things he was sure most would feel when they commited a murder. you could compare him to a psychopath, a mindless monster playing god, but after all, it wasn’t him per-say who was doing these things.

in the end, the one pulling the puppet strings was always his owner.

dagda finds they are always the same - man or woman, young or old, strong or weak - when he comes calling they always fall before him. he wouldn’t necessarily says he enjoys it, but when his fingers wrap around their throats and squeeze the essence of their life out of them, he can’t help but smile. he does not feel the rush of the kill, as humans describe it, but he still feels the power over another course through his veins, and that’s enough for him to feel satisfied.

this one is no different - in the shadows of the alleyway, the woman struggles beneath him as his hand grips a fistful of her hair, wrenching her head back as his dark stare meets the panicked whites of her eyes. arms pinned beneath his legs, she opens her mouth to scream, but his fingers wrap underneath her jaw, shutting it tightly as he lets out a dry laugh at her pathetic attempt at crying for help. too strong for her to push off of him, dagda watches in curious amusement as the woman struggles to get away, her body thrashing violently as she tries to shake him off. he allows the lie of her hope in escaping to go on for a few moments more before he dips his head down and presses his lips against her ear, his hold strong on her as he listens to the whimpers fighting to escape her bloody lips. “it wouldn’t be in your best interest to fight back dear, don’t want you hurting yourself now do you?” dagda’s voice is cold and monotone, a hint of teasing evident within his tone. dragging the hand holding her jaw back a bit, his nails dig into her skin, blood welling beneath his fingertips and dripping across her honey-toned skin. his teeth shine in the gloom, a predatory grin donning his face as his dark gaze soaks up the scene in front of him. but then he makes a mistake - his focus devoids for a brief moment, his grip loosening ever slightly, and the woman’s shoulder flings upwards to knock into his chin. the force of the blow sends his head back and he grunts in surprise, her form wriggling out from under him and barely managing to escape his grasp before his hands whip out with inhuman speed. a terrified scream erupts momentarily from her lips, her nails raking down his face with ferocity, before a sickening crack is heard and the area falls silent once more. dagda closes his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath although he has no use for the oxygen, before he looks down at the scene before him. the woman’s corpse, lifeless and cold, lies in a puddle not too far from him, her limbs astray and spread out from each other. her head is bent at a horrifying angle - the neck having been snapped in an L-shape and her face turned completely backwards. dagda supposes he could have torn her head off with a bit more force - something more overboard than he would have liked, although imagining the look on the face of the policeman who would find her makes him wish he did it all the same. lingering his gaze on the woman for a little while longer, he finally decides to clean up and depart the scene, stepping forward and gathering the corpse in his arms as he drags her to a pile of garbage off in the dark. the murder itself was supposed to send a statement to the people of the area, as requested by his owner, so dagda does not hide her away as he usually does. like a designer working on a fashion model, the android takes his time in positioning every body part and detail to his liking - legs bent to the side, torso stuffed in the corner, the corpse’s horror-stricken face and empty eyes staring out into the alleyway - even her hair is ruffled to cause a more rough appearance. when he is finished dagda considers it an art piece, although of the more bloody counterpart. his expression is blank as he crouches and observes every change in appearance, although on the inside he could say he feels proud in some sort of sickening way.

he’s about to stand up and leave, when he hears it.

dagda’s ears are alert as he hears quick footsteps echoing in the alley, his systems judging them to be not too far off although not far away either. eyes alert as he twists his head to look behind him, his hand jumps to the inside of his jacket, fingers wrapping around the pistol hidden within the folds of the fabric. in the time it takes for him to do this, his processor has already reviewed every possible choice of what he can do, and there aren’t many. dagda can risk running, possibly being seen by whoever it is walking towards him, and try and escape without them following, but can also stay and face the opposer. the android is sure that his owner wouldn’t mind another death adding to the night, and although he knows the crime lord would prefer a quiet death to be the most ideal, dagda believes it wouldn’t be detrimental for the use of his pistol in the current situation.

he has made his decision.

withdrawing his hand from the weapon but keeping the jacket open for a quick retrieval, dagda slowly stands and turns his body to face the entrance to the alleyway. through the darkness of the night, he can barely make out the approaching figure of another, his sensors taking in whatever details he can in the moment as he waits for them to make their presence known.

what he doesn’t expect is who they are.

[yourrdailygot7]