#daemoniism

[rewrittenfates]

@daemoniism i think they’re compatible :)

[solaurous-aa]

i need people to think about this: phainon is not ashamed of wanting mydei, he's ashamed of the simple act of wanting by itself. allowing himself to want, is literally so hard for this man who's been a blank slate & always put everything/everyone & his duties first. it's always been amphoreous (the role as deliverer & bringing the deliverance, the role as a leader, the role as the one to bring the dawn) > his own wants. why? he doesn't KNOW what he wants & the few things he does know of; it scares him shitless. it's absolutely scary for him that he wants to love mydei openly, selfishly just for himself. have this one thing. he doesn't know how to handle it & navigate it.

now with amphoreous real (in my verse sped up alr real) he finds himself WANTING AGAIN, learning how to grasp something for himself for once. allowing himself to love mydei with his whole heart & letting the man in. no more running, pushing away, denying himself his own persona basically. he finally dreams, wants, wishes, hopes, despairs as someone who's more than a blank slate. he does it for himself. not for everyone else's sake. thanks for listening to my rant.

it does take time, it does take coaxing ; it takes him weeks until he doesn't feel like drowning anymore whenever he finds himself aching for the kremnosians warmth / laughter / unhidden devotion. both of them finally putting duty aside as they've done theirs. done playing a role for 33 million times. finally able to break from repeatance & walk towards the future together, hands intertwined & hearts eased by each other's comfort. able to breathe together, laugh together, cry together, grief together until wounds begin to scar ; until tears become less & less of a nightly ghost haunting them. until the bad dreams become bad memories & the weight feels less heavy.

they finally go there & finally admit to each other with more than just glances / thinly hidden yearning that they care for each other in ways that can not be simplified by a single word only. more than love ; an infinity that they will share together. equals.

@daemoniism i'm sorry, i had random feelings today.

[crimsontwins]

plotted starter for @daemoniism ♥

The moon was already high in the sky, shining its silver light on the bustling city underneath it, where people as tiny as ants went about their life between glittering lights and the sound of cars mixed with idle chatter. Most of them were enjoying their free time on this warm saturday evening, but high up, in one of the skyscrapers, a studio was lit up brightly. The two women inside didn't have eyes for the beautiful view outside, they were focused on each other and on the mirrored wall in front of them.

"One two three four, five six seven eight, and spin, two three four, step, front, chin, tilt." Facing her counterpart in the mirror, 𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔞 performed the new steps for the other, first slowly while counting the beats, followed by the actual timing. Her hand reached forward, imagining someone just beyond her reach who she wanted to pull in, her whole body following the curve of the pose, then she turned on her tiptoe, pulling her arm back. A longing look over her shoulder half way, hold, turn forward. Her fingertips elegantly touched her chin and she tilted her head to one side. "And end pose." She stayed like this for a second longer, then dissolved the pose and straightened up again.

The redhead was an exceptionally gifted dancer, who was recently put in charge of putting together the dance routine for a popular idol group. There were three members, but only Luka was here today. She'd asked for a private lesson to go through her solo steps more intensely. She valued hard work - and the extra money - so of course she'd said yes. Sera wouldn't admit even to herself that there might be another reason she'd so easily agreed.

Facing the angelic blonde, she nodded and stood at the front of the studio. Watching her mimicing the dance moves, Seraphina was once again faced with the fact that this woman was a natural. It didn't take her too long to learn anything and she gave the moves her own flavour. Where 𝔖𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔞's dancing was more powerful and expressive, hers was calm, alluring and... extremely sexy in an innocent way. If she had to describe it, she would say she put herself out there when she was dancing and Luka was pulling others towards her instead. She had no idea how she did it, but even she was enchanted by Luka. That's a professional for you.

"Let me see the stretch again." Once Luka reached forward and stayed in this pose, Sera came over to her side. "A bit more to the front, like this..." Carefully, she touched her hips, turning them slightly, then she adjusted the angle of her shoulders as well. "More tension in your fingers..." Tanned hand grabbed a fair-skinned one, thumb pressing against her palm and rubbed outwards towards the blueish fingertips. "Can you do that?", she asked more quietly. She knew of her condition, so she was unsure how much more she could actively stretch them out.

[fatelied]

Vein had always enjoyed watching ...observing Lu Guang's every reaction —whether from fear, irritation, or that icy calm he tried so hard to keep. that quiet, infuriating composure that always made Vein’s pulse thrum with something primal and hungry. he always found it amusing at the utter death glare he would receive from the snow haired male. Tonight, though, something was different. The air between them felt sharp. Charged. He slipped in without ceremony, the alarm above the door chiming once and announcing a guest arriving —too soft to match the weight of the presence that followed. Vein stepped through the half-closed door like a shadow that had finally decided it no longer cared to hide. The overhead lamps cast long, slanted beams across the cluttered counters and drying prints, but all that sterile light did was glint off the smile curving slowly—dangerously—along Vein’s mouth. — deep pools of crimson boring into him from behind the dark circular shades. His hand shot out. the red head wasted no time. not giving lu guang a chance to react. he moved with purpose. closing the distance.

Fingers curled around Lu Guang’s hair, yanking his head back and hard enough that he dragged him back a step — shoved him against the wall in the photo studio, free hand reaching behind to retrieve a pistol and pressing the barrel to the male's forehead.

“did you really think i wasn't going to find you?” Vein’s voice came out low, unhurried, a velvet threat. No smile. Just hunger. Challenge. The desire to break that too-calm façade. Lu Guang met his stare with that infuriating composure — chin lifted, eyes cold behind the lens reflection of the flickering lights. Vein hated it. Loved it.

A soft laugh, humorless and sharp. “Tell me, Lu Guang…” His fingers slid down from the soft tuffs of hair to the base of Lu Guang’s throat, resting there — not squeezing, just existing, just reminding him. “are you ready to face your punishment for changing the past?" crimson hues seem to glow in delight behind the shades as they drooped down the bridge of his nose. Vein leaned closer, the cold metal of the pistol tracing the line of Lu Guang's jaw, a shiver-inducing caress. He wanted to see that crack again. To widen it. To shatter it completely. hands moved to cup his jaw, forcing him to look at him directly.

The studio was silent, save for the hum of the equipment, and the ragged sound of Lu Guang’s breath—controlled, but not quite steady enough. Vein’s thumb brushed over the corner of Lu Guang's lips, a gesture almost tender, completely at odds with the gun still aimed at his face. "open up "

     Of course Vein would come to confront him. Of course he would, because all Lu Guang remembers is that sly smile and calculative gaze, the strength hidden in that form and the ease in how he dispatched both Cheng Xioashi and Lu Guang himself. Vein has always known more than Lu Guang ever will, and he proves that much now with how he slips into the shop, not at all a customer but a predator seeking it's prey.

     Lu Guang tenses, but there's not much he knows he can do against this threat. No, this has always been a tricky dance he must play, one that takes a thorough plan with each step, with each careful breath. One slip will mean his and Cheng Xiaoshi's death, after all, and Lu Guang hasn't the strength to stop him. Not now, at least. No, the only solution now is to play the game Vein brings with him, to ease the punishment Vein wishes to give into something else that Lu Guang can mold into a weapon. 

     It's why he only gives a sharp exhale when fingers curl amongst ivory strands and yanks. The air whooshes out of his lungs at the force he's shoved against the wall with, and he opens his mouth to speak, but freezes when the cold press of a barrel touches his forehead.

     Teeth grit. No, this is recoverable. If Vein wants him dead, he would have killed Lu Guang ten times over by now. That means he wants something from him, and Lu Guang takes a moment to consider the possibilities before one clearly stands out in his mind the moment fingers trace the frame of his face to find their way around his throat. 

      Eyes flicker from the gun to Vein's eyes. Lu Guang keeps himself carefully composed. He can't let slip his panic, nor his thoughts. Not when the success of his gambles relies on a poker face, yet he can't help the faint hitch of his breath when the point of that gun slips down to his jaw. He swallows hard, feels the palm of Vein's hand against his throat, and keeps his features lax.

     But, oh, he cannot keep the utter hatred seeping from his gaze.

     Stormy grey. Lids narrowed a notch. Jaw clenched and fists balled at his sides. He's forced to look at the man he despises so much, yet neither does he choose to push him away. His heart thrums under his skin, painfully reminding him of his mortality

     Then Vein's touch brushes near his lips, and Lu Guang's mind short circuits.

     That? Of all things... but this can be an advantage. Easily so, because Lu Guang has never been one to shy away from doing something he needs to do. Anything to keep Cheng Xiaoshi safe. Anything to keep him from the darkness of these timelines, the true depth of despair they can drag him down into. No, he'll easily do this for Cheng Xiaoshi. 

     He leans into the touch, eyes narrowing a touch more, lips parting a margin. Not enough for Vein to do as he wishes, whatever it is, and Lu Guang's heart races. This is what he wants, really. Vein's focus on him, and him alone. That's where it belongs, because it's Lu Guang messing with the timelines, not Cheng Xiaoshi. 

     Lu Guang takes a long moment to decide, to even do anything. Gaze unwavering on Vein's own, hatred all but simmering beneath the surface, but finally, slowly, his lips open wider, only to say—

     "I hate you."

@daemoniism

[bodisattva]

" GUYS. Guys. Do either of you wash your hair?"

[ofhope]

❝ i am eternally yours. until the stars go out. and maybe, even after that. ❞ (casper to sae! )

Intensity wears him down. Was there anything left? A milky way of dust, a crumble of what once-was, so much as an atom? Remaining terrified him, an ounce of himself existing outside of life a fate he actively fought against. Saeyoung Choi didn't exist in official records. Luciel, destroyed after this began. A collective of faces torn from pages, birthdates scratched out, names nonsense made-up on the spot, scraped together from dramas, posters, names of cologne--

What was this, anyway?

A coincidence as minute as him opting for cherry cola, his original out, discovering a new taste that enlightened his senses. A fingernail snagged on wool, split just enough to hurt. One last treat, right when he needs it. An itchy spot where an ingrown hair sprouts.

Grim--Casper's--words eluded to a history only partially recovered. His name ringing a bell, but it couldn't, he didn't go to school, didn't graduate. No accolades on the front page, no "hey, remember this guy?" from BookFace. Saeyoung left no footprint, no viable way of finding him, discovering him, but somehow this man, this entity, knew him in a way too fragile, too chest-deep, tangled too irreparably in his veins.

It terrified him.

You don't mean that, Saeyoung means to say. You don't know what you're asking for, Saeyoung means by that. You don't want that, Saeyoung mouths, but his throat is so, so dry. There's a joke on his tongue, a don't fall for me yet!, a cheeky reminder of Casper's stubbornness, how he hadn't loved him, how he couldn't stand him.

Saeyoung had wanted that. Desperately held it to his chest, prayed that was the case.

They kissed, once. Clumsy. Casper didn't know how to slot his mouth, and Saeyoung showed too much enthusiasm. He hadn't washed his sheets before Casper unceremoniously appeared, his socks had holes in them, Mary hadn't cleaned, and-- and it was perfect. He hated that it was.

"It'll hurt," Saeyoung promises, eyes glistening. "You'll hate me for it."

I'll make you hate me.

"I don't think I'll go to Heaven. But if this is all I get... it's more than I deserve."

The hand that seeks Casper's own is clammy. Cold, not due to the wintry chill pinkening their noses. It shakes, but finds Casper's regardless--and holds fast. Yet a vise, but ever near.

[gravenlight]

@daemoniism : ❛❛  If you are born weak, which god should you turn to for solace?   ❜❜ ⠀ ›ㅤ ⠀ from sunday!   

      long ago, he was but a tiny wisp of azure flame — barely an ember during some epochs. it wandered listlessly across borders : guiding souls to their final resting place ; developing more as a sentient being when the gaze of a god was cast his way. these deities exist no more — their corpses now make up the icy landscape of jarilo - vi. no one knew this, of course . . . not even the halovian sitting directly across from him. a teapot & appropriate cups were laid out — the drink created by yours truly, for if made with any other hands he would have to ' suck it up ' out of courtesy. a dollop of honey, two cubes of sugar, & a splash of milk : this was flins' preferred way of having tea . . . unless customs in other worlds demanded otherwise.

round, empty yellow eyes peer at him — lips tugging upward into a vague smile as if only he were in on a joke. his gaze flits down to the contents of his cup : wrist curling as he observes the liquid swirl about. a sip, & then he finally gave an answer.

      " dead gods do not lie. "

[moonfelling]

Kabedon - Muichiro @ tanjiro cuz why not

kabedon!

at first, tanjiro thinks that he did something wrong... at least, before he remembers what he learned from mitsuri. a kabedon is supposed to force you back into a wall. she said that in romances, the taller party often does it to assert their feelings ... but muichiro isn't very tall. and tanjiro, being taller than him. . .

just thinks he's so cute!

unfortunately for tanjiro, some thoughts should be kept inside.

" . . . small . . . ! "

if you look really closely, you'll see little hearts bubbling around his head.