#fernwehxng

[paradoxvm-blog]

@fernwehxng.

    ❝ SAY THAT AGAIN, i fuckin' dare you. ❞

[shepherdofsuns]

{starter for fernwehxng}

Day seventh in South Korea.

Humans,  humans, humans. It was all that Seoul offered him. No  sight of  a  single Korean deity, no supernatural creature, nothing.  He  came here burdened with a purpose, but it looked like he would have to leave with  nothing.  To give up, get back on board and fly all the  way  to  Los Angeles, hands empty.

If he could only feel the presence of mystical powers that once ruled in this  country,  find one shaman that knew what they were  talking  about instead  of  pretending just to earn some pocket money.  But  there  was absolutely nothing.

          “I’m done!”                                 - he  yelled  as he got out at the  bus  stop.                                   Lucifer fell onto the bench, pulling on his                                   hair in frustration.            “There   is   nothing   here!            Not even a drop of magic!”

[hrvkrv-blog]

"May all your bacon burn"

not only did he have them constantly on his back, but their banters were never welcomed or asked for. zhang yixing was a rare breed when it came to choikang, one untouchable by his godly hands for whatever reason. though their connection was faded between the rubble of the grounds he could sense that they were something once so precious & with how they acted towards him, he knew they felt the same. to be normal in this society was something always out of his reach, but with his children ( zhang fuckboy included ), he knew that he was something more than a lousy vessel the devil would leave as an empty shell in moments time.

to make a life of his own he would have to until that day. to leave his impressions on their hearts  & minds, and luckily the little chinese boy ( how he remembered them by ) was one of the lucky few that got to see the softer side of the killer.

slaving over the stove in the kitchen of his home he tried to focus on the task at hand as well as their mindless information about a subject they were learning in school. every time they tried to ( discreetly ) slip the question of wanting to go out that night choikang would mutter a simple no before they continued on speaking about their studies. a persistent one they were, like a leech on his back—out of sight & out of reach.

but for whatever reason when they steered the conversation to what he was doing—trying to cook a lovely breakfast for them all—he felt the sting of their words through the back of his neck. a low chuckle was all that left him as he watched the once perfectly made bacon begin to crisp on overtime, what once was filled with wonderful shades of red was now becoming consumed by coals. smoke rose and hit his face as he watched through the smog, his free hand outstretching to turn off the stove before he grabbed onto the pan with born hands.

the burn felt like nothing to him anyway.

flipping the pan as he whipped towards them the slices of bacon went flying towards them, hitting and hopefully shocking them out of their horrid attitude towards him. “shut up. you’re not going out tonight… and you ruined breakfast.”

[misterlux-archive]

“Please put me down it’s just a sprained ankle"

The male was levitating in front of Lucifer for quite a while and the Devil found amusement in his pleas and whines. Sure, it was childish, but who could blame Morning Star for wanting some entertainment after spending centuries in the Cage - in such situation, any kind of fun would do.

“On their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone” He intoned words of the Psalm, smiling at the other. “This is your salvation. I shall not let you fall.”

[sxpernaturals]

( fernwehxng )

Yixing’s right eye twitched as he turned away from the other’s voice. It was extremely annoying. Like a toddler crying. Contemplating on whether to respond or not, he also thought of what he was being accused for—nothing. He wasn’t sure whether the other was purposefully doing this to be aggravating or he was really that thick in the head. “You—don’t talk like that, it’s making me tired.”

✖.▐░          the aggravation growing in other was becoming rather evident at this point, but that didn’t stop luhan from scolding him; after all, he deserved it.  ❝ you’re . . . you’re joking, right? ❞ the ghoul gestured, with rather exasperated movements, towards his wrecked and ruined garden in his front yard.  ❝ i asked you to watch the yard for two seconds while i went out and i come back to it looking like this! ❞ he was trying not to yell at his friend, but it really wasn’t that difficult a job.

[conkm-blog]

(♛) — LOOSE ENDS ; Y & C

( fernwehxng )

    The steady tempo of last night’s music still rings loud in Connor’s ears. Consciousness curses him as the mid-morning sun peeks unabashedly through the curtains, and he releases a groan in reply. However it seems Connor’s intoxicated self the night prior had been kind enough to sprawl him over the four-poster bed of the master bedroom. Barely hanging off the mattress’ edge, his hands grope for the nearest pillow in a vain attempt to ward off an oncoming headache by burying his face into the cushion. 

      “Spring break,” he mumbles with a mouthful of pillow -- the mantra of last night’s occasion. Connor feel the corners of his lips etch into a smile as he turns his head to instead press his cheek against the pillow, anticipating his father’s expression upon all the mess he’s made. It’s then that, with a few hard blinks to rid the fuzz in his vision, he catches sight of Yixing. In similar fashion, Yixing his sprawled over the opposite side of the bed. Not heeding the intrusive morning light, he sleeps just as Connor had minutes ago. 

      As per usual, the previous night is still a blur to him. The swell of bodies among the vacation home’s great room, nameless faces spilling from the balcony; endless booze, endless fun. 

       It seems among between the start of yesterday evening and this morning, Connor’s misplaced his shirt. Looking over at Yixing, he has too. With only slight tremors from whatever else he’d mixed into his drink last night, Connor outstretches a hand to give the other a nudge. 

[hrvkrv-blog]

amnesia. [ sck&yx ]

Somewhere between then and now there was a faded memory coming unhinged without any thought, without any guidance to what it meant. There was a child much younger than he, clinging onto his fingers and following his every step. In a sense he was a guardian for that little child without a face, they were just a body spitting meaningless words he could barely make sense of, a few fragments coming into place together again. When he last felt something like this he completely shut down, his skin shed and he was completely reborn to something pathetic—something that wasn’t him. Thankfully, nothing changed when this memory came into mind (maybe because it brushed a childhood he barely knew) but he didn’t care to think of it much, it could have been his active brain passing the time to humour him.

And so replayed the memory, each time passing through revealing a crisper image.

Choikang—Changmin—was ten (or eleven) at the time with a child trotting close behind. It seemed the baby had just grown to walk on its own, but every now and then it would stumble on its own feet before colliding with the back of his feet. Changmin would grunt and curse under his breath, but never loud enough for his parents to hear, before turning to grab a hold of their small body; hoisting them up into his arms. Though he was young he was unusually tall for his age, height was something that didn't come short in his family. As he held onto the body tight against his side he scolded and pointed fingers down at them, telling them that they should be more careful. The little boy in Changmin's arms ended up crying obnoxiously, which only made things worse.

The child's parents would pry the baby from his hands but the baby wouldn't stop crying. The memory revealed that there was more than the name baby for the child, it was Yixing, and apparently he had known them since they were born. Being scolded for being unable to properly care for the young one seemed to come naturally with the way the parents dismissed it after a few shouts, later Changmin would suffer through his own parents hands. As the fragments of memories continued the child grew and grew, and so did he. Now he was mid teens and they were catching up close behind, always following his every step and trying to act as cool as he.

Setting now placed in what seemed to be a high school, Changin watched as little Yixing was pushed around from left to right across the hallways by larger men, men that didn't care about how fragile they really were. That anger years ago suddenly bubbled back to the surface as if he could feel it now as he was remembering, the vivid image of his fists planted into their faces coming into mind; only to have a happy Yixing clinging to his side for protection. Who was this child? What did they mean to him? This wasn't something he needed when caring for his own. Past being of no concern came like an unwanted surprise, the pieces of a puzzle that made no sense trying to force him into remembering something he didn't care to dwell on any longer.

It continued throughout the week, the same vague memory replaying over&over again. Flash of images came stronger and stronger, especially whenever he was in the bleeding heart of Seoul where he supposedly grew up (so his twin brother, Momo, had informed him sometime ago). There were various buildings that made sense, there were some signs that triggered a warning--but the school he hadn't paid attention to before became the biggest trigger for that memory. It was Saturday afternoon, children shouldn't have been inside, he could freely roam the halls on his own without any fear of them wondering what the hell he was doing inside of here. After unhinging a few doors and unscrewing a few locks (and fucking with the security cameras) he roamed through the hallways, trying to find those set of lockers to spark the memory so it could stop haunting him once and for all.

[hrvkrv-blog]

♥

( fernwehxng )

♥: Your muse crying about something

Wandering through the lonesome abandoned streets of old Seoul he twisted and turned, looking for an excuse to break off the edge and impale one of his blades through a helpless victims throat. There were people filtering in and out from buildings left astray, mostly children stirring trouble with their hats on backwards; just a bunch of city hood rats. With hands tucked away in the pockets of his peacoat he tried to eye out anyone suspicious, anyone that would rise attention from him. The old Seoul seemed to be helpless, there wasn’t anyone of interest until he came across the lively border of people with the dead place he was in. As he crossed over he noticed a body crumbling to their feet not too far off, he could only assume they were spinning with the nights intoxication. As just another citizen wanting to help another human being out he approached them, only noticing then that they were ridden in tears.

With that mask of a helpful citizen his lips pulled into a small frown as he crouched down before them, his knees pinching together as his forearms rested against them. Snapping his fingers before their head to grab their attention he glanced around, noticing that some had their eyes on the two—he could only wonder what had happened. The kid crying was no older than twenty, he was sure, their thin and fragile appearance said nothing more than that. “Hey, kid. What’s wrong with you? It’s late and you’re in public, keep those tears down.” Waiting for some kind of answer he was only able to lure out a disgruntled sound from their throat, their body twisting away from his eyes with their head in their hands. A frustrated sigh left him as he looked in the opposite direction of them, his stomach twisting with conflicting ideas.

It was either he would genuinely help them or he would trick them into thinking he was, only to have them gasping out their last breath with his fingers around their throat. Tilting his head to the side he looked over to them, coming to the conclusion that he would help them. No one would suspect a thing from a kind gentleman trying to make the world a better place with his hidden intentions kept where they should be, hidden. Offering out his hand to the stranger he put on his best face, smile gentle and eyes warm regardless the ebony shade they had taken on their potential prey. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up kiddo.” He encouraged, gesturing his hand out even more for them to take.

                             And so they did.

                                                                                       Let the games begin.