LOVELY ROSE WIELDS ITS UGLY THORNS ; heās got temperĀ to rival some ANCIENT GODS . noxious hubris that came like an indelible STAIN to his very existence . W E L L , WHAT WAS HE IF NOT ADAPTABLE ? something akin to aweĀ in curl of his lips , an audible breath . ā of course , donāt let me keep you . ā body is just a vessel to crude instincts that itch . if he were to incite her to trip with a pebble from the pavement . . .Ā ā watch your step ,Ā ā comes benignant warning , ā the pavement is a bit unevenĀ here . ā
HE IS THE CYNOSURE OF ALL THINGS ; one would think given adoration that sparks in kunwooās eyes just from the sight of hanbin . heād pull stars from the sky for him & he already HAS before . his fraught trajectory keeps leading back to him like captured asteroid , not that you would ever catch him complaining . syllables , quiet & desperately unsure barely resonate under solicitous gaze ; they tremble & he WISHES they didnāt . ā hanbin , i look fucked . you canāt pretend i donāt . ā although hanbin is MET with forbidding tone , dour exhaustion of kunwooās countenance softens . HEāD BEEN WORSE , FINGERS STAINED SANGUINE & BODY QUAKING IN A ROOM DEVOID OF LIGHT . ā see , that is where you are wrong . i can exist on sunlight alone . iām stronger than you can imagine . ā his reaction spoke volumes , rather lack thereof , to the contact . temerity to rattle the otherās warm oh-so familiar hand within his , as if this will bring sense to hanbin . ā you say that like this is normalĀ , man .Ā ā
FALSE GOLDEN BOYĀ ; he is theĀ devilĀ in disguise , the coiled serpentĀ āneath the blooming flower . sacrilege in every aspect .Ā his smile renders the burning sun envious . well , he found himself in a predicament that such a smile could remedy . āĀ excuse me āĀ āĀ Ā a breath of laughter , something light that flutters from his lungs with an accompanying smile . ā would you mind helping me out for a second ?Ā āĀ
HIS INSIDES ARE ALIGHT ;Ā currently hellbent on burning him alive . the TELL-TALE RUMBLE of his stomach indicates that itās been nearly aĀ WEEK since heās eaten , but he cannot bring himself to gravitate towards what he needs to survive . HEāLL SNAP , LIKE CLOCKWORK & TRY TO OVERCOME THE REGRET THAT SWALLOWS HIM AFTERWARDS . an entirely unwilling surrender to his own nature .Ā heĀ A L W A Y SĀ finds himself back at hanbinās side when hunger has set heavyĀ into his bones . it isĀ hisĀ safety he falls into when the aches double him over &Ā it is hisĀ care he turns to when heās finally gone beyond restraint . HEāS A CREATURE OF HABIT .Ā ā hey bin .Ā ā clement smile punching dimples into his cheeks , poignant kind of pain settling in his ribsĀ . āĀ save you the trouble by just admitting i look like hot garbageĀ .Ā āĀ
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā blood drunkĀ Ā &.Ā Ā the winds are whispering of a time that can not be left behind. there is a pleasure that comes from the curling warmth in his stomach. a knowing that cannot come without the heavy feeling of death on his tongue.Ā Ā Ā ā Ā Ā im sorryĀ Ā Ā ,Ā Ā Ā i promised that i was going to be good.Ā Ā āĀ Ā painted in this dark red in the bright moonlightĀ Ā ,Ā Ā heavy scent of iron only serves to make him more hungry. his fingers are dripĀ Ā ,Ā Ā dripĀ Ā ,Ā Ā dripping with the heavy sin.Ā Ā ā Ā im not doneĀ Ā ,Ā Ā it hurts to eat but i cant stop.Ā Ā āĀ Ā plagued by guilt for the lesserĀ Ā ,Ā Ā there is no passion in this. only a need. hes doing this to live.Ā
open !!!
CONTEMPLATION RUSTS HIS THROAT DRY ; festers in his chest . there he stands , MAN Ā / Ā GOD , stiffened inĀ observation . labyrinthine morals tangled like strings . not the NATURE of the action that sets him off but the SIGHT . ā you made a promise you knew you couldnāt keep . ā malignant heart , thorny vines that press into his skin will linger as scars til death . A SUBLIME HERESY TO FIND BEAUTY HERE . GOSPEL TRUTHĀ ; he is wicked , deprived of valor .Ā macabreĀ crimson shades do nothing to spark compassion for the victim .Ā a staccato , pause in the rise of his chest to speak again .Ā ā god . . youāve made such a m e s s , it'll stain your clothes . ā sweetness , shimmering &Ā saccharine from his throat like a motherās chiding .Ā
wow itās kiwi back @ it again with a second intro but this time NOTĀ a monster but technically a monster you know ?Ā my lovely lil golden boy, out here for a good time not a long time.Ā
āā¾ ā āĀ YEO CHANGGU, CISMALE, HE/HIMĀ ā hold on, isnāt thatĀ BYUN KUNWOOĀ walking around uiyeong ? there have been rumors spreading around that theyĀ HAVE NOTĀ crossed through the veil. maybe someone will get lucky ! theyāve always been known to be ratherĀ SENTIMENTALĀ &Ā CHARISMATIC, but can also be prettyĀ DUPLICITOUSĀ &Ā CONTRITE. as to be expected from aĀ TWENTY-TWOĀ year oldĀ DOGANGSI. hopefully the town of uiyeong doesnāt find itself in too much trouble !Ā
the goblin !
when heās born, itās into a room with far too much noise but the focus wasnāt on him. right now, itās on the woman who had just birthed him before passing away. his name would be the first and last thing he hears from his mother, not that heāll ever recall. from then on, it would be his grandmotherās arms he found himself in and it would be his grandfatherās smile he sees when he cried out. his father visits occasionally but he is wracked with the grief of his wife. he smiles with tears in his eyes while he holds his first and only child. his stomach is never empty and heās never without clothes on his back, he counts this as one of his many blessings.
heās seven the first time he hears his motherās death followed his birth. it hurts his chest to think about, the thing other children had that he didnāt. he has countless little questions, mostly innocent that his grandparents canāt bear to answer. heās a social butterfly even at that age, sparking conversations with classmates or pestering others in trips to the store. he grows well loved, his grandmother and grandfather pouring every ounce of their love into his small body.Ā
heās twelve when his father comes back to his life, doing what he can to make up for lost time. he asks questions his father is too pained to answer, how his mother was when she was alive.Ā āshe was like every beautiful flower and every refreshing breezeā he answers. kunwoo tries not to flinch when he pulls him into a hug and sobs.Ā āshe loved you so much, loved you more than anything.ā he tries to stop his own tears but he canāt and they sit there for longer than he can remember crying together.
at sixteen heās joined the soccer team, grappling with feelings of inadequacy. heās not as quick as others, not as quick-thinking. seeds of guilt get planted in his mind from others on the team, that he wasnāt working nearly as hard as the rest. in the end, he drops from the team and itās a shame that lingers with him for the rest of his teenage years. if it gives him more free time than heād like, so be it. all the more time to spend doing what he loved and most notably, more time with his best friend. eventually though, he joins the baseball team instead which he happened to be much better at.Ā
heās nineteen when heās spending all night with his best friend until he falls asleep. he silently promises to help him, even after heās scolded by him. he wonāt rest until he finds a solution & the moment he falls asleep is the same one he begins to search. heās not got money, nothing to bargain with but he takes to forums. relatives who had lost their loved ones tell him to accept what was to come. there was no saving him and the sooner he accepted that the sooner he would heal. he canāt imagine a world without him, canāt come to terms with the loss of his best friend. finally, someone responds. they tell him he could save his friend, that it would make him healthy again.Ā
he agrees to a meeting place. heās desperate, he had no room to be picky that the spot was a back alley to some local dakbal restaurant. what happened that night was something that drastically changed his life & the life of his best friend. he turns into a dogangsi. it hurts more than he thought it would, the road to saving his closest friend but heād do anything to keep him from an untimely death. he turns his friend just as he was taught as he lies in his death bed & hopes for the best.
in the end, not even this saves his best friend who ultimately gets tracked by a hunter for his reckless feeding habits. struck by grief he scours for the hunter responsible, nearly driving himself to insanity in his failure. he canāt help but wonder if turning him was ever worth it at all but now he knows heās stuck with alone & mourning.
NOW UHHH personality wise heās a lil shit but the cute kind u kno. literally wonāt let anyone know how worried he is about things all the time, plays it like a cool carefree lad. mind got like 50 different thoughts at a time. TRYIN HIS BEST but very tired. head over heels for his best friend but he jus dont kno that yet alright leave him be. MY BRAIN IS GONE OK JUST LOVE HIM YOU KNO.
wanted connections !Ā
FLINGS caus he really out there living that life !!Ā
friends cause who doesnāt love those! friends who knew him as a human, friends who are supernaturals too, unlikely friends, bring em all.
someone that canāt stand him and he canāt stand them either.. if they breathe he is annoyed by it ok iām talkin som real petty shit
whatās that comin over the hill is it a monster- no itās just kiwi who is super thankful for all of you.Ā BUT WHOāS THAT NEXT TO HIMĀ ?Ā yeah a monster for sure. han jinkyu, heaven-sent face but definitely actually from hell boy but aināt he so handsome and lovely ? letās take a look !
āā¾ ā ā AHN HYOSEOP, CISMALE, HE/HIM Ā ā hold on, isnāt that HAN JINKYU walking around uiyeong ? there have been rumors spreading around that they HAVE crossed through the veil. maybe someone will get lucky ! theyāve always been known to be rather PERSPICACIOUS & TENACIOUS, but can also be pretty EGOTISTICAL & CALLOUS. as to be expected from a TWENTY-FIVE year old DARK MANYEO. hopefully the town of uiyeong doesnāt find itself in too much trouble !
you can hmu @Ā š„ššš¤ šš¤ šš š£ šŖš š¦ ā”#7529 on discord !
the goblin ( lil long ) !
born as the fourth generation to a full lineage of witches with a family tree mapped out in tapestries & stories. each large room ricochets every sound into the next, most notably filled with countless relatives who occupied the mansion. a past always being remembered by the mouths that passed them on & in the diaries of those who had first told them. there were no secrets kept in his home, no illusions in the fact he was a witch. it was a life most dream of. in spite it all, there is a hollow in his chest he canāt place that only grows. there was a balance to things, he was taught before he could speak or before he even could remember. as he grows, this idea is cemented through constant lessons. nature is kind but unforgiving & he wasnāt to tip the balance. he ultimately doesnāt heed the advice, to the dismay & shame from his own family.Ā ( what gave nature the right to say what he couldnāt do ? what gave anyone ? )Ā Ā
he is six when he began learning, honing his skills in spells & simple rituals.Ā āheās still too young to understand yet but he will,ā his mother said. balance. how could witches hope to keep the balance when humanity itself was so unfair ? his grandmother sees inklings of it, can see the sparks behind his eyes. she tells his mother she used to have the same thing. tells her that she grew out of it in time, that streak of stubbornness. he doesnāt. he doesnāt grasp it yet but heās sure that balance doesnāt exist. unabashed even to this day, some things just never fade in time like his family may have hoped. some things only get sharper and more gnarled rather than softened.
age ten and heās making the kids who say bad words to him trip on their way up the stairs, leaving them with bloody noses and mouthfuls of curses. balance, right ? he thinks his mother would be proud but when he tells her all he hears from her is scolding.Ā āwhat about balance?ā he asks.Ā ākarma isnāt for you to deliver,ā she reasons. he doesnāt like the idea of balance, not anymore. heās been burning so long he can no longer feel the heat but everyone sees. everyone sees the blisters crackling over his skin. theyāre scared he is heading down a road he wonāt return from & they are right. he started learning to hide himself & hide the interests in the dark & untamed spells. they think he got better, that he truly learned the balance but they were wrong. heās the perfect storm, the most lovely cocktail of kindly smiles & hands behind his back holding what he shouldnāt. a tempest that doesnāt know how to stop & frankly doesnāt believe it ever should.
age sixteen & he had gone beyond what any of his familial bonds could ever hope to stop. his blood sings a song of violence & he has begun stand unflinching in the eye of loss. heād lost his mother & his newborn sister. heād lost his best friend & his eyes have seen far more than they should have.Ā ( WHAT OF BALANCE ? WHAT OF EQUALITY ? ) he and his friends find trouble wherever they go. their eyes always go to him first, like they know. his grandfather makes failed attempts to reel him in. him & his dark eyes. him & his lesson in awakening. he comes to adopt emotionally compromised teenagers into his social circle, those with the wicked smiles and eyes that hold the stars. they hold a silent reverence for him & it only feeds him, only scratches the itch heād had for so long.Ā
heās twenty-two when he starts his own coven, full of misfits & outcasts who are more fearful of him than respectful. they have every right to be but their gravest mistake was letting him sense that. what else was he to do but curse them ? turn their food bitter before it reaches their tongue or turn their beds into one of nails. they retreat, he weeds out the weak this way. found other minds like his this way, too. ( the sort to smile kindly while they pull strings behind your back to tie your hands. ) his gravest mistake would be to trust them, even if it was only partly. heās ambitious, hopes the world for his coven if only to further his own strength. they are a second family, almost.Ā
twenty-five is when his coven grows tired of him, grows weary of the way he operates. what follows after is what he can only come to recognize as betrayal though what the world may recognize as karma. ( he knew, he knew better. ) a change of power, even the thought has his blood boiling. he puts a curse on the one who suggests it & the rest of his coven retaliates. roots from a nearby pierce his skin, something hot seeping through his abdomen and something black pours from his lips. heās dead before he can defend himself & he lay dying just as heād always lived. ALONE & BITTER.
after being dead for nearly half a year.. sloop sloop heās back !!Ā
wanted connections !
childhood friends or acquaintances
ex-covenmates, heās .. gonna be gunning for your muse but hey go for it friends ! some of them were genuinely supportive of him.Ā
an ex fling, he doesnāt play around with love unless it benefits him somehow.
an ex, i thought you loved me kind of deal you know oops or even someone who still thinks the world of him
young witch heās mentoring !Ā
someone who wanna kill his ass again lbr he deserve it
āfriendsā he really doesnāt have any but he sure can pretend like no one else !
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