exonym | you do this, you do

ROOK

i.
[ most of the time, Rook is aware of where he is going and what random surface he is deciding to nap on. he has his favourite spots, out side of his hoard of pillows and blankets, and they are usually in presence of other demons, the few vampires he has decided he likes, or the bar in downtown Seoul that caters to those with magic in their blood.

this couch is in none of those places.

it smells like earth and dampness and moss first off.

second, there is way less magic in the air here and it's weird. well there is magic, a kind that Rook hasn't felt in a long while, and nothing like the static feeling of too many magical creatures in one area brings to his skin. this is... calmer. more unified.

still, he has no fucking clue where he is. not that it seems to bother him. the demon hums and sits up on the couch hair a mess and eyes half lidded, standing out if only because he is clad in just loose black pants and a whole lotta gold body jewellery.

what there are standards for demons of lust okay? sometimes he cares enough to hold himself to them. kinda.

his voice is rough when he speaks.]

Mm, where 'm I?

ii.
[ Rook doesn't need to stay. he can leave as easily as he came (but with more intention), can slide between the worlds and slink back to hell where he has whatever he needs to make eternity terrible for others. but--

and isn't there always a 'but'

he kinda likes it here. this place is weird, with the people and the place. the magic that is so different in them all but also strangely similar. how all these beings are under one roof in the swamp and have found things that so many spend their whole existences searching for.

how there is more love than lust here and well fuck, isn't that something.

so yeah, Rook could leave. Rook should leave. there isn't much for him to do here with his Cardinal. there are only so many strings for him to pull on (and yeah yeah yeah, a good demon would seduce and destroy, would ruin relationships and cause hurt but-- if you ask Rook he doesn't do that because he is lazy, not because he if soft). but he doesn't. he stays.

stays and starts bringing little pieces that he likes into the home. a pillow. a blanket. a set of dishes where none of them match but they are inlaid with precious stones so who cares. today's present is a bookshelf. complete with books. mostly in dead languages but hey, it's the thought that counts right?

Rook is in the middle of the living room (or what he thinks is the living room) hands on his hips and head cocked as he tries to figure out where the shelf would look best.

feel free to help him out.]

Ros

i.
[ the early morning, Ros has found, is the best time for him to practice much of anything in this place. sure he still goes to the underworld, still has his haunts and the shadows but--

he likes this place. these people. so he has taken to sticking around whenever he doesn't have a job that needs to be done. not because he thinks that they need protecting (they totally need protecting, almost more from themselves than from outsiders) but because he likes it here.

so early morning, when the sun is just thinking about getting up and most everyone is asleep, if not quiet, Ros can be found on the grounds outside with more than a few short blades in his hands and a concentrated look on his face.

ever since the war, ever science the adaptation of science and magic and everything, Ros has found that he cannot rely on his hound form as much, cannot rely on what he is, so he needs to adjust. needs to learn. and learn quickly (which considering he is a weapon isn't very hard at all). still, practice is necessary and, since he does not need much sleep, it is a nice way to just-- exist for a while. ]

ii.
[ if you happen to pass by the kitchen, you might notice one (1) rather confused looking hellhound who is staring at what appears to be a rather fancy looking espresso machine. the machine in question is sitting on the counter, in the middle of a hastily cleared spot, with a bag of actual coffee beans next to it while Ros leans against the table and just stares at it.

you see, he learned very early on that everyone here is quite fond of coffee (well, not all but--) so, being the being he is, Ros set out to find the best of the best. apparently this machine was supposed to be one of the best so long as you had the right beans (which he did make sure to grab) and followed the instructions (which he did not have at all). which is why he is looking confused.

because how the hell were you supposed to turn those beans into liquid coffee? the hound has no idea.]

Sage

i.
[ to say that Sage feels like shit would be a bit of an understatement. he isn't sure what is worse, death maybe? but he is certainly there. ever since the night where he made the fucking brilliant choice to let Minsu into his room (and subsequently kicked him out) the witch has been no where to be found within the confines of the house.

or even the immediate swamp.

Sage has, despite knowing better, been in the darkest parts of the swamp where the sun barely reaches and humans haven't been in fucking centuries (okay, maybe they have, but shhh) with no real point to it all but to just get out. be alone. away.

maybe to punish himself a little bit but, that is neither here nor there.

the magic in this part of the swamp is thicker, is heavier and seeps into his bones and makes it easy for him to forget about fucking humans and their brilliant smiles, or their soft mouths or--

(such a soft and fragile thing, the human heart is witchling. careful.)

Sage doesn't really forget anything, but he does manage to push more magic into the wards and finds a small patch of fungus that he can most certainly use in potions so not a total loss. still, when he trudges back into the house, covered in swamp and a little paler than usual, he isn't so sure that is a good win.

the witch leaves the ingredients he found on the kitchen table (along with a note stating not to eat them because he really doesn't want to deal with that, thanks Ten) then makes his way to the washroom to clean himself off and then to his room to get dressed. and if he comes out wearing sweatpants that belong to Ros for how huge the are and Minsu's shirt, well--- shut up.

he is then making his way back to the kitchen for coffee. because jesus fuck he needs that. ]

ii.
[ inhale. exhale. inhale. exhale-- you can do this!

Sage isn't usually a nervous person. not even a little. but-- standing outside Minsu's door with a basket full of fresh berries (that cost him more than he would like to admit but worth it) and a new frying pan, the witch is nearly shaking with nerves.

what if Minsu left? what if he hates him? what if he tries to smack him upside the head with the frying pan and just--

Sage knocks before his mind talks him out of this.]

... Minsu? You there?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Myung might be trembling a little, too, giving himself a split second to think about how he's going to have to dismantle the piano to clean it before he stops caring about that, too taken by the sight, by the way Sage is going limp and loud and somehow even needier now than he was a moment ago.

It's a rush, and Myung moves the hand that was around his cock to wrap it around his stomach, keeping him up, muscles working with every thrust, not stopping for a second, even when Sage clenches around him, making Myung groan loudly, bite down on his back, almost like he's telling Sage to behave.

He fucking loves it, though. Sage feels so good, sounds so good, Myung doesn't want it to end but he can feel himself drawing closer, tensing as spikes of pleasure and electricity run through his body, all of it too much, too much, so much. He grunts inelegantly, pressing his face to Sage's back as he thrusts once, twice, three more times before he's coming too, slamming his hips against Sage's ass and staying there, fingers curling into Sage's hips.

He thinks he must black out himself, because, well. One moment he's standing, legs shaking, and the next he's on the floor, still inside Sage, having pulled him along as he tries to find his breathing again, sticky with sweat, his pants still halfway on. ]

Jesus Christ.

[ Sage feels the bite, the edge of something else that is there and it makes him feel so fucking wanted, but also like he needs to be good, needs to prove to Myung that he is worth it. that this is what he wants, just MyungMyungMyung. and, well, it is. Sage is sure that Myung gets that with how he falls apart, how he lets all his walls and defences down in this moment and just lets himself be consumed.

there will be no potion or spell to help heal the marks and bruises that litter his skin now, Sage will make no attempt to heal the aches in his hips or the fire along his spine later. he wants to remember this, all of it.

even if he knows there will be spots of faded memory, like how they make it to the floor, or how his pants manage to make it off one foot completely, but he will not forget the noise that Myung made as he comes. the way he holds tight to Sage as they are on the floor, still together and panting and--]

Fuck. Fuck. [ it's gasped as he leans into Myung, tipping his head back and making a small noise as he moves a little, clenches around Myung's softening cock. reaches to find his fingers and tangle them together.] Myung that was-- [ amazing. perfect. exactly what he needed and so much more and oh shitshitshit.

the witch wants more. ]

[ Now, it feels easier for Myung to let himself go. The vice grip he was keeping himself in releases, and he lets out a slow, deep breath, wrapping an arm around Sage's stomach and pulling him closer, pulling him to lie down on top of him, Myung's chest sticking to Sage's back with sweat. He moans when Sage clenches, his eyes closing tight as a shiver runs through his whole body, fingers squeezing Sage's.

He can feel where Sage's piercings are touching him, and he turns his head a little, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead as he noses at the shell of Sage's ear. ]

I didn't hurt you, did I?

[ He doesn't know if Sage even wants to hear the softness in his tone, right now, or if he just wants to pull back, put his pants on, move on, the urge satisfied. Myung's heart is beating too fast in his chest, making him feel like he might be sick if Sage did that. ]

[ this is nice, this is more than nice actually. Sage knows that he shouldn't enjoy this, that he doesn't deserve it at all but-- fuck it. he feels safe here. wanted. and when Myung moans like that, tightens his grip, Sage finds himself becoming so soft and easy that he should be terrified.

instead, he hums, trails his fingers along Myung's skin lightly, and lets himself enjoy this.]

Mm not at all, was good. Fuck, best I've had in a long while. Ever. [ the words are slurred a little, punch drunk and soft. just like Sage is right now.] Gonna feel it but it's great.

[ clearly he has no intention of moving until you make him, especially if the way he seems to all but sink into Myung is any indication. Sage makes a warm noise, moves and gasps when he feels Myung inside him still. that might end with him whining a little before tightening around him. sorry. ]

[ If you asked Myung, he'd disagree - he thinks Sage deserves a lot, deserves most things he might want, even if these things are not Myung. Myung's fine with being used and abused if it gives him a moment of importance in someone else's life, someone he might have very strong feelings for, someone like Sage.

But Sage is still here right now, and he's not pulling off, instead he seems to just melt further against Myung's chest, and he says things like best I've had in a long while, and Myung smiles, lets himself hope.

He knows the circumstances are shitty. He knows Sage isn't well, and he's looking for something that no one but himself can give him. But Myung will still take whatever he can right now. ]

I'm going to have to take the whole keyboard apart. [ Myung muses, in an amused tone, before he groans when Sage squeezes around him, feeling oversensitive and yet - yet his cock seems to want to try anyway. He nips lightly at Sage's neck, making another noise. ]

Stop that. I should probably - get rid of the condom anyway. [ And yet, he makes no attempt to move. He needs a bit more time to recover, but - ] But if you're raring to go, I can finger you until you come again.

you do this, you do

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject