innerbeast
RAGING SUN ;
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innerbeast · 1 day ago
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of all things, he's instructed to wait.
left on bated breath as that button comes undone, a dizzying heat crawling up along his shoulders, pooling into his cheeks as he leans forward. chasing after that look of mischief, his mentioned lack of restraint whispering for him to reach out; to stop yuri's attempt to leave.
but quiche wouldn't grow any quieter without one of them tending to it, and yuri had slipped out of arms reach quickly enough.
an outstretched arm drops to his lap, eyes glued to the door with lingering disappointment before impatience ropes him down -- falling back into an awaiting pillow with a heated huff. there's already a quickened rhythm beaten against the bed, his tail freely expressing what dar fails to voice.
a moment together after what felt like ages with the gaps left in between awkward mending and conversation, and yet he's still forced to put it on pause. their closeness, that familiarity and normalcy -- he craved it, desperately.
"... you know i don't like waiting," fingertips brush against the rim of his pants, a claw catching against previously freed button, listening to the low click of nail against metal. again and again, he taps at it, a sigh eventually carrying his touch further; lower. dipping beneath fabric until nestled against scorching want.
"hurry up."
but his command was quietly spoken, knowing full well the pace his partner was set to. he could hear him clearly, after all. the haste in his steps as he departed down the hall, how tenderly his voice was carried and the quiet that washed over the home shortly after.
there's a groan, low, held in the back of his throat as hips rise; slowly rolling against what's provided. dar's head shifts against his pillow, turned to the side to allow an ear to perk up, closely listening -- waiting. right where he was told to.
he feels almost dizzy riding on anticipation alone, lips parting to expel a breath as a rush of heat has him shuddering. there's a twitch -- both from his ear and attentive fingers -- hearing familiar, approaching footsteps, again.
he allows himself one more, greedy roll against his own touch before pulling himself free with a subtle growl. dampened digits find themselves by dar's side, pressed against the mattress to force the demon up. yuri had been quick to take his hand and shove him onto the bed before he left, and dar'khol was eager to do much the same.
only there wouldn't be another break in attention, not until they were done.
"you couldn't have come back any faster?" questioning complaint is accompanied by claws snagging into the others shirt, not waiting for an answer before tuggin him along. stepping back, dar swiftly draws them into a short spin; a blur of a motion to have the attorney pinned beneath him where the demon previously lay.
"working me up further before taking care of things, too..." feigning a pout, a leg is swung over -- straddling his partners waist to ensure he stays put ( and benefit from what friction came of it ). "still such... a pain."
a rush of excitement racks through him. fingers tangling deeper within brown hair as kisses run down his neck, skin burning beneath roaming touches, attempting and failing to calm a raging pulse while dar handles the lock. it's a lot to feel after what's felt like a whole lot of nothing these past few weeks. it leaves him dizzier than usual.
joint laughter spills between needy kisses, briefcase dropped at the foyer to finally rid himself of the damn thing; his freed hand slips down, inching playfully beneath a tight shirt as he's led backwards. the layout's familiar now, so they're one step above fumbling college students this time around (and he'd know a thing or two about that).
yet another swoop to capture parted lips never lands, and a hand's rendered frozen before it can unbutton the other man's pants. urghhhh.
"...shut up. quiche got its clinginess from you, y'know," he grumbles, head falling forward in defeat. right when he'd started getting really riled up, too...
...no, they've been tip-toeing around each other too long to give up that easily. snatching dar's hand, he rushes to their bedroom and shoves him onto the mattress.
"wait here," his tone stern, leaning to give him a pacifying peck for good measure, "don't start without me." (unless...) he hovers close -- mischief spreading across his features -- and adds, low, with a poignant, overdue release of the other man's button, "or do. you never did have much restraint."
would being a demon mean he has less now, lust being a sin and all? hm...
challenge firmly issued, it's a teensy bit easier to pull away. still, his stroll down the hall's more of a hustle, and he doesn't waste a second scooping the chirping menace into his cupped palms (jeez, if he didn't know any better, he would assume it got some traits from dar, the way its first instinct is to snuggle).
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though he isn't a softie, his tut's fonder than intended, "c'mon, wasn't repede supposed to keep you busy?" the dog in question huffs a protest from his bed... an accusation yuri ignores, mind you. instead, his focus is staunchly on the bird as shrill cheeps die down with each stroke of its sparse feathers.
ever the diligent babysitter, even when disgruntled, repede patters over and offers his head as a nest-- an offer yuri would be a total moron to refuse.
pat. "thanks. i owe you big time," which doesn't earn anything more substantive than a bwoof in response, but yuri knows better. there's a dutiful bounce to the canine's step as he's let outside and turns the corner... over to bibidi, yuri presumes.
whew! okay, no more distractions, yuri realizes with a giddy thump in his chest, and a giddy bounce to his step as makes for the bedroom once more.
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innerbeast · 1 day ago
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a pull at the senses, bright and hot. damn near painful with how swiftly its reach had traveled, drawing his attention towards a blinding surge. two, he had counted; two auras in which he recognized. yet, one had quickly been snuffed out by another; embraced so tightly by it everything seemed as one.
that which overpowered the other is what drew on morbid curiosity, luring dar'khol onward -- towards the initial spot all had been felt. where he sought answers he was only left with further questions, and newly formed assumptions. blazing golds darted from one scorched feather to the next, flickering between shards of bone around them.
dar, himself, was a creature of sin. a despicable thing, a monster -- yet even he could not condone the remnants left behind, the bigger picture they portrayed. where one would believe there to have been a struggle, he failed to see the signs.
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this was deliberate... this was allowed.
and if he was correct about the auras involved, the larger of the two in particular, then the root cause would be --
aurelius. name spoken aloud without dar'khol's efforts, the voice drawing his attention away from scattered remains. he'd not been blind to the others presence ( far from it ), but part of him had almost hoped not to get involved with him. as though he was respecting a boundary once set. he could not remember why.
"klaus," he addresses, as though the man's name is enough of an answer; a confirmation. "you were bound to show up at some point, i suppose. i'd say better late then never, but..."
the demon turns his head, focus cast back towards purple-drowned feathers and ash.
"sooner would have been ideal."
@innerbeast
WHAT on ISOLA happened here? Klaus had been pulled into this specific area because he had felt Aurelius' aura. He had picked up the feeling of death in the air. It clung like a lifeline. So close, very near. What he expected to see was in fact a dead body, but instead on the ground, he's standing witness to feathers burning slowly. Once white wings are now charred, slowly disintegrating. Klaus steps forward until he's closer to the burning wings. It isn't just one pair. There were a total of five, but none of them were gold.
"Aurelius!" Klaus calls out. These were not his wings and these bones scattered and discarded like nothingness was not his. Who did these belong to? he had been here, but someone else had as well.
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...Speaking of...
Klaus can feel that he isn't alone here as well. The stench of blood and perhaps the aura of an angel has also beckoned for a demon to come. Or at least when Klaus turned to face them, he expected a demon and instead, it's a near-familiar face.
"Dar'khol?"
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innerbeast · 2 days ago
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... this city is starting to reek.
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innerbeast · 3 days ago
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"your turn to reconsider, is it?" comes a question carried on heated breath, voice a lowered octave. he straightens, somewhat, enough so to comfortably follow his partners slow, but progressive, lead. against the attorney's waist rests one of dar's hands, fingers curled against fabric, claw caught against the crease of a waistband. the other, meanwhile, visits along yuri's abdomen -- claws gliding carefully along until fingertips take their place. firmly pressed, ascending upward.
lost in these moments, as he was won't to do, he's not entirely blind to the refreshing relief of it all. how easily these actions came into play, how quickly closeness was gained; the words they shared, looks they delivered. this is as it should be, what he wants to continue to have.
a sense of ease, of welcoming. of a love unburdened ( but never perfect ).
a hum sits low in the back of dar's throat once they reach the door. "if that's what it will take, then..." having yuri's venture cut, temporarily, short delivered him an advantage. a means for dar to press closer, wandering hand against the other man's chest falling to the side, against the door. lips find purchase upon an untouched jaw, peppered down to a heated neck.
"may i please be rewarded, good sir? my services -- " a break in his words, gently nipping at skin, "-- can always improve."
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pulling back, his focus is quick to shift from yuri's slanted smile to the lock he was being directed towards. golden hues linger in place for a second, or two, until he's drawing close again. head offering a nuzzle against a vacant shoulder, a means of keeping close while a hand retracts to delve into his pockets.
"don't mind at all."
keys are retrieved, jingling quietly on their ring before lead towards an awaiting lock. in it goes, given a turn -- click! -- and back into a pocket they go as the front door is left to swing open. "now," lifting from yuri's shoulder, dar continues them forward with a leading step of his own, freed arm snaking around his lovers back. "where were we?"
it was rather cute, really. how reminiscent this was to their first night. lead through his door with such impatience, pressed against one another as they navigate through the foyer and further in. not as messy, or as desperate... but similar, in a way. enough to have him chuckling against a set of lips he'd come to steal again, guiding them through similar steps.
oh, he should have recalled not as occupied, too.
"mngh..." laughter is cut short by a grunt, a sound almost barely audible over a sudden, needy series of chirps. dar was tempted to pretend he couldn't hear them, to continue with what he's currently involved in... but that's rather difficult when the sound is shrill enough to have his ears flattening in protest.
regrettably, he's pulling away with a hissed, "god dammit," a pout quickly settling as his head turns to face the sounds direction. "not now, quiche! let me have him first!"
dar lets go, but yuri keeps his arm right where it is (in part to keep his wobbly legs stable now that it's back on solid ground). he also ignores a burning cheek as he regards the miqo'te's words with a faux-contemplative 'hm'...
"that was the plan, yeah. figured i was gonna be real thorough about it, too. let you call the shots, even. i mean, what kind of reward would it be if my savior wasn't enjoying it to the fullest?" his other arm coming around to loosely hang around broad shoulders, a smug smile tugging at his lips, "at least, that was before the questionable service. smooth ride, terrible attitude."
the self-restraint here is fucking award-worthy, by the way. of course he's still weak to dar's dorky, puppy-dog mannerisms-- a monstrous makeover isn't going to change that. the additions are enticing, too, he'll admit, even if he still misses the bright, shining blue of his right eye; the sky, nice as it is, kinda pales in comparison.
"the inflight entertainment wasn't too bad, though..." he pivots, tiptoeing around the hope he no doubt holds, himself. blame it on the thrill (he sure will), but he's having fun stringing him along like this. "tell you what, i might reconsider if you ask nicely."
he can't help but acknowledge that this is the least... guilty he's felt alluding to such things in a while. the tension following broken promises finally starting to dissipate, flirty banter cropping up naturally as it once had. he hopes he isn't just imagining it. he hopes he'll never be without it again.
who knew it'd take a demon transformation and a shitty case to break the ice? not him!
bump! slowly, he'd been backing toward the front door-- leading, rather. he eyes the lock, drawing attention toward it with a casual tilt of his head, leaving the suggestive smile lopsided when redirected toward the warrior.
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"mind getting that? my hands are tied." tied up in the strands of dar's hair, that is. combing and twirling to keep impulsive fingers from traveling to the fur atop windswept hair.
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innerbeast · 3 days ago
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previously raised brow is quick to lower, knit together as a pair above narrowing near-slits of gold. there's a lack of understanding in the words the angel chooses next, how the stars kept certain parts of him. how aurelius wished to reach for what was still himself -- as if any of it had left him; as though he'd been dismantled into something else.
what holiness still resided alongside the dark was how he chose to be, he's never been more himself. there was freedom in what he became, in who he was. he'd forgotten nothing, he'd lost nothing but a peaceful existence to wretches like them.
"i've forgotten nothing. not of myself, but perhaps how conversing with you is no different than addressing a wall." a constant blockade with no means of getting through. words were an attempt made once before, an act far more civil than what that conversation devolved into; more than what his thoughts currently provided for solutions.
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"haaah -- listen to you! i've merely mentioned the man, nothing more, and you're already quick to bite. no better than a beggar starved for coin." yet, despite dar'khol's jab, the point was taken and his tongue was held. on the matter of klaus, anyway. for now.
"you question me as if my current state is anything new," and he would not be the first to do so.
"my intentions," dar continues, a spark of flame dancing along his fingers, caressing previously gouged pew, "have not changed since i'd taken my fall." there's a glow within a fiery stare, honed against the commander, himself. though not a direct cause to dar'khol's own misfortunes, he stood on the side he opposed -- a shining example of what he wished to extinguish.
"to see you, and those alike, as dust beneath my heel."
「✧」 Felines were always fickle. The rejection with hellfire touches the hem of Aurelius' sleeve, a fact he dislikes but disregards for now. The strange being before him remains defiant, whatever hint of Heaven in him too oppressed by sin; appealing to it was apparently a waste of time.
"Of course the Stars would keep the most annoying parts of you intact."
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"You forget yourself, Dar. I offered my hand to the part that was still you, still—" he pauses, thinking of the flickers of holy energy he'd sensed between the filth, "—intrinsically good."
He shakes his arm next, as if dusting off some unwanted stain, and resumes studying the fresh new hellcat with careful eyes.
"I find it better to do as I should without parading a title about. The people here do not reject me, and whatever I have with Klaus is none of your concern." If there's anything in the conversation to make him angry, it would be that.
"If you are to stay civil with me, leave him out of this conversation. I've yet to drag your little crush into any business of mine."
"So speak—what are your intentions in that form?"
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innerbeast · 3 days ago
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idly does he observe the shift in her wings, using the movement as his excuse to glance over a feathery visage. she's only ever been seen in passing, never having a proper opportunity to work alongside her. a face without a name, though he swears he's heard it in passing.
squinting, dar's head falls in a partial tilt, shifting through memory to try and pinpoint a time she was referred to; an overheard conversation, a printed name somewhere ( though that's less likely to be remembered ). he's pulling up a blank and the disappointment grows clear with how his brows slant, an ear even falling from a shred of guilt. but he's not able to dwell on it long, her words pulling forward a curious blink.
"stories of me?" that has him turning to face her fully, brow quirked. "am i making a name for myself here, already? i don't feel like i've accomplished anything tale-telling within a mere year."
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"whatever you're hearing, i can only hope it's something good." intrigue is displayed in a risen tail, "hopefully more exciting than what bedtime stories are read of me," ( of demons ) "back 'home'."
Stories of a once angel stripping their wings and falling were told to her. When she first heard this story, she was just a mere bird and her Father did not go into details on the matter. NOT until, at least, the heavens had blessed her with its holiness. The attendants who served under her Father had filled her in on this story.
This----demon as they would call him was once a child of the heavens. No, correction (as shes heard stories of this as well), he was a solider of the heavens to serve and protect. He had escaped his hold. It reminded her of someone who she read about as well. Someone who had escaped his duty long ago. When she had heard these stories, she couldn't understand and the more and more she heard, the more she could see.
...
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Even now, as she stands and watch this demon check the board, she can see clearly.
"I'm..." She got caught red handed staring at him and being called out--well, she's a little flustered. Her wings stretch, they ruffle, and they fold back against her back. She's nervous but not frightened.
"I don't believe we've worked together o-or...nmm, I have only heard stories of you. I did not think I'd get to see you in person."
Yet, why does she feel like she already knows Dar'khol?
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innerbeast · 4 days ago
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'course not! haven't regretted markin' up my own back or face, why would i go discouragin' someone else?
well, lil' if ya want it to be, i s'pose. and not all ink is done through cuttin', there are varyin' methods! my own, for instance, were hand tapped. time consumin' as all hells ( and agonizing when he hates remaining still ) but worth the detail. i thiiiink they have differin' methods here? haven't gotten anythin' new, so i couldn't really say. startin' small ain't ever a bad idea, either.
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and... yeah? that's what i was agreein' to; holdin' your hand so ya got somethin' to squeeze through the pain. am i suppose to be holdin' ya differently?
aw, really? you don't think it's a bad idea at all .. ? ( blinking so cutely .. it's always ok to get tattoos instead of therapy .. )
wait, are they? i thought they cut you and stuff so they could put the ink in you and it hurt a lot. i've never done one before, but the design i was thinking about was sorta detailed .. maybe it wouldn't be that bad of an idea to get something smaller first, y'know? to check how it actually is. aw, but now i'll have to think about what else to get!
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i sorta am. i'd need to see where you could even get one, BUUUUUT .. in the case i do get it, i'll hold you to it! also, i meant like, actual hand holding. like, actually holding hands?
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innerbeast · 4 days ago
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i ain't hearin' a bad idea outta ya, it's why i spoke up. (says the guy full of bad ideas, but who's keeping track, really?) do they hurt? from what i hear, they're such lil' things. can't be as bad as inkin' your entire back, can it? would go dependin' on design, too.
tell ya what? if you're really committed, i'll be your hand to hold -- since i'm encouragin' it and all.
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that's why i write in the journal, darlin', so i won't get encouraged for my bad ideas! i'd, ah, really love to, but i'd need a strong person holding my hand if i did .. 'cause they hurt a lot, right? at least everyone who gets one says so.
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innerbeast · 4 days ago
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if your journal ain't gonna answer, shall i? 'cause i'd go with the inkin', doll.
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( writing in his journal while also talking out loud ) dear diary, should i get a tramp stamp or go to therapy..
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innerbeast · 5 days ago
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"whaaat, no tip for my performance?" he purrs, head tilting to heighten the lopsided curve of curling lips. "you seemed so into it, too."
playful jab aside, he understood. if he wanted anything more, their current situation wouldn't allow for much else. enjoyable as it was -- rather romantic, too, looking at it. an ever expanding view of the horizon, cityscape rushing by beneath them. yet the world below didn't matter much when you held your own, did it?
that thought, alone, tickles him; dar giving a breathy chuckle as they roll into a gentle tilt, correcting his course. "fine by you, hm?" he muses softly, eyes pulling away to glance over the buildings passed. it was rather serene, being able to fly along like this. having the opportunity to do so without much of a care was a nice change, regardless of what other presences could be felt.
before he finds himself too lost in it all, a sigh escapes him. soft and considerate against his prolonged teasing prior.
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"perhaps, we can save the leisurely flight for another time. that way there's a 'next time' to give you that warning you had been wanting!" his tongue pokes out mockingly, laughter quickly drawing it back in with a fwoom sounding from heated wings. seems he was finally taking that 'snappy' comment into consideration ( even if it might be a bit late for those five stars. whoops! )
. . .
when next dar'khol touches down, it's a simpler landing. no sudden loss of the flames that kept him afloat, no use of gravity to leave him plummeting ( and certainly no thug to 'break' his fall ). instead, soles gently meet a paved walkway while roaring wings die down; fizzling away as though snuffed out.
he takes a second to loosen his hold, lowering his arm to lead yuri's legs. bringing his feet back down to the ground. before his hold falls entirely, however, dar's leaning in to plant one more kiss against his partners cheek. "ferried home, as you requested. still in time for a fair review, i hope?"
"oh, and, what was it? a show of gratitude for my heroism, right?" barbs and fur swing behind, accompanied by a curious bounce of ears -- a display almost on purpose the way the ex-miqo'te tilts his head. like an expectant dog waiting for a treat promised.
truthfully, he's having more fun playing with the concept than actually anticipating much. even if there is some underlying hope for more.
"all to yourself? worried quiche is gonna steal me away once we're back?" a pause to relish the nudge, trailing a cheeky finger down dar's chest, "their company's more tolerable, i'll admit."
despite the defiance and insistence that any of this is normal, his frown is forced upward with each of his partner's reactions, terms of endearment and subsequent affections-- the kisses upon his forehead, nose, cheek... the halt above his lips. it's a moment in which yuri holds his breath, this close to bridging the distance himself.
even lost in the arching of golden slits, he can feel his own laughter bubbling low in his throat. 'course you don't want to, you hedonistic pain in the-- but the thought escapes him, sucked away with a gasp as they finally press together.
another sound escapes him, then -- muffled surprise -- when the altitude drops. does he move to part, however, like one should? nope. yuri, in all his rashness, merely squeezes his eyes shut and clings desperately to dar's shirt, all while contrarily thinking: 'hey, at least this wouldn't be the worst way i've died'!
in fact, he's the one leaning into it with greater ferocity-- deepening the connection with each pleased moan as they possibly (hopefully not?) plummet to the ground!
(don't worry, he'll smack himself for being a lovestruck moron later).
...but their free fall does turn out to be an act after all, and his dizzying relief only registers once dar separates; the attorney left puffing in short breaths, pulse shot with adrenaline for what must be the nth time today.
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"you're still expecting a reward? after a stunt like that?" the retort airy, yet uttered with a smirk. "well, i figured i'd show you just how grateful i am for your heroic rescue earlier, but..." can't really do it like this, can he?
his hooded leer lingers on kiss-worn lips, then out toward the cityscape with played-up indifference, "if you'd rather float the day away, that's fine by me."
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innerbeast · 6 days ago
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dar's smirk splits into a grin as laughter rolls off his tongue, his tail left to dance along to the sound. he'd expected as much, the reaction that is. the wondrous look following yuri's scolding, however, was less foreseen. would this not be something he was accustomed to ( to some extent )?
not like he minded it much, short lived as it was. it helped quicken a rhythm within his own chest seeing it, expression only softening further even with his partner's forming frown. adorable as ever, wasn't he?
oh.
"hey!" head tilts back from the flick, brows slowly furrowing over a brief pout his ears assisted in accentuating. "i wouldn't go dropping you, if that's what you're worried about. you're the one who wanted to be reminded on what i could do, remember."
the demon's features ease, again, shortly after. yuri's tease is met with a soft snort, his hold upon him reaffirmed with a gentle squeeze. flaming wings continue to crackle behind, embers shifting as the pair is set in motion. unlike the initial take off, dar keeps their flight slow, leisurely ( temporarily, of course ).
"home? you have the means of going anywhere and you'd rather speed back to the house?" with a roll of his eyes dar heaves a sigh, smile worn all the while. "i guess you are offering a reward, though."
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sounding a contemplative hum he leans in, head nudging against yuri's gently. "but what's to say this isn't a reward in itself? i have you all to myself like this already, love." another nudge -- more of a nuzzle, really -- before lips are pressed against his partners forehead. there's a beat of wings behind him, the flames splayed out to set them into a lingering glide. dar takes the opportunity to shift his hold, ever so slightly, raising yuri enough to trail his kisses lower: against his nose, upon his cheek...
"maybe i don't want to bring you home just yet," he murmurs, mouth ghosting over his partners own. golden hues are pressed into smiling crescents, laughter pressed into an amused hum as he finally steals his kiss proper. all the while, as their connection lasts, they're left to fall in a quickening descent.
he waits, acting as though lost in his affections until... a flourish of flames shoot them skyward, again. momentum of the drop used to propel them onward. riding a soaring high like the one felt within his chest as he finally parts.
"be a little more specific, starshine, and maybe i'll reconsider."
'excellent hearing', sure, but never that good! and what's he mean by 'distinct'?
honestly, the more dar'khol talks, the more his makeover proves to extend beyond cosmetics. for one, there are hints of his former, looser speech (sure as shit didn't give up on the 'doll' moniker, did he?), but it's like... how to put it? like everything's shifted a couple notches closer to proper? just enough for yuri to notice.
could be worse; the fun, cocky attitude hasn't gone anywhere, and he's bringing up intimate conversations only they'd know about, so what's the deal?
(on the bright side, his tail and cute ears bounce the same; easy to please as ever).
any snark to combat the brain fog comment fizzles as he feels a touch upon his waist -- the spot tingling beneath clawed fingertips, a coy eyebrow raising -- only for another complaint to take its place when he's swept into unflinching arms!
"e-easy there, tiger, aren't you taking my knight analogy a little too--!?" a choke cuts him off, left to gawk at a burst of flames. when did those...!? is he planning to...?
oh, god, he is! yuri jolts, arms flinging around dar's neck for a shred of stability as they take off into the sky. "ferry, my ass-- how about a warning next time!?" this isn't what he meant by 'smoking hot' at all! 
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once he's sure this won't end with his second death, he turns his head -- tentatively, then awed -- to the horizon... to the boastful grin above him soon after, chest pumping, utterly breathless (from which view, exactly, hm?). the sparkly, doe-eyed expression he must have on his face quickly shifts to a frowning fluster, however.
"you're lucky i'm not crazy enough to try smacking you up here." still crazy enough to flick his nose, though.
...there's also a part of him wondering if he should be a little more freaked out? the only thing he's ever 'flown' in was a plane, but he feels fine. free, even!
"alright, since you wanna be more steed than knight," he teases, carrying a shrug into a subtle nuzzle against dar's chest, "ferry me home, then. make it snappy and i'll even leave a 5-star review," (i.e., feed his massive ego), "maybe a reward, too, who knows?" (i.e... conveniently left to interpretation! he's flexible).
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innerbeast · 6 days ago
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is it worth it, he wishes to ask. worth remaining blind to to it all, keeping to a faith that wishes to erase who you are for their benefit. ' if you had remained faithful ', they tell him, and his answer lays within the churning of his stomach. a tightening twist that draws forth a bark of laughter in an attempt to subdue the growing want to hurl.
there would be no him had he remained. nary a shred of the man that stood here now, embraced by soot and ember. an eternity of damnation, of a mutated existence in excuse to remain true to himself -- he would take it. without question, he would seize such an offer and turn his back on the rest.
scars where wings once sprouted are worn with pride.
should dar'khol have remained, would he be no different than the angel before him? stuck within a poisoned mindset, left to act on order and altered belief. blind to the truth, blind to reason. without a doubt in his mind, this seraph was to be his reflection in another life; had he never chosen to fall. it churns his stomach further to think on.
but he'd need not fall victim to wandering fantasies. that wail from her was enough to shake dar'khol from further thought, ears quick to fold against his head, attempting to muffle the sound. its enough to cause fiery eyes to narrow, strained against the ringing left behind -- focus remaining on the approaching silhouette of heavens favored.
flight was an easy movement, a quick choice to make... for most. ascend away from oncoming danger, avoiding the burden of the first strike. dar'khol had never acted with such caution, his body remained planted. he wished to know how hard this seraph could bite and he was gifted with a swift answer.
bared fangs parted with an airy hiss as scorching blade bites through leather, kissing his skin and leaving behind an aching burn. fires from hell that accent the blade leave little, but those of holier means lick at torn flesh. leaning away is his only means of avoiding immediate fatality, allowing the blade its cut but denying it a means of feasting on more.
the angel steps back and the demon follows, body lurching forward to bring himself beneath their blades path. he aims not to avoid, but to close the gap between them. "good, it burns as it should. but don't expect a quickened end... !" a fist forming, tightening, as an arm draws back. flames ignite around the demons' limb, thickly coating his fist as it rushes forward.
he takes inspiration from where the seraph had struck first, their gut fit to be his punching bag.
"let's keep it going," response rolls out in a growl, lips pulled back in a readied grin. strike and follow up, a give and take. where his initial jab ends another takes its place, body twisting in a partial spin to offer a wind up; leg pulled up and outstretched. decorated with flames just as his initial strike had been, "dance the night away, even!"
   earthly pleasures are not for them to enjoy. heaven and hell are as far from humanity as they should be, heavenly skies and hellish flame on opposite sides. if it weren't for the simple fact that most demons are traitors, angels warped into something sinful by choice, there might have been a reason to leave them alone. but dar'khol is here, isn't he? mingling amongst the crowd, proving once more that hell can't help but stir where it shouldn't.
   a demon's purpose, to tempt innocents into ruin. he may gain some amount of enjoyment from being here, but that's a disservice to the peace fiyero is trying to keep. allowing his existence to continue without snuffing out his fire ... it's simply not possible.
   fiyero was forged for this. with heaven as his sheath, he'll bloody his hands in accordance to the cardial rules that lent him his position. there's no other way.
   ' if you had stayed faithful, you'd know that i was never mortal. ' not truly, two halves of a whole. perfectly suited for heaven's wants and needs right from the start. ' now you'll never learn. ' there's a twitch there, a smile that reaches deeper than the surface. almost a grin, revealing fangs that shouldn't exist on any other angel. part of fiyero tries to dig through whatever murky memories still cling to him.
   loyal to a faith that despises him. a dog at their heel, waiting for scraps. shouldn't it feel wrong?
   his jaw opens further, unhinging unnaturally. an ear-shattering wail rings out between the two of them as the seraph advances at the same time, isaiah shining bright in his hands. his own ears feel fuzzy with it, but it only serves to help fiyero hone in on this: the weapon in hand, the wings unfurling behind him, the target in front of him.
   he'd go for the legs, but he knows most demons have the ability to fly— instead, he drives the length of his sword from one hipbone to the middle of his stomach. dar'khol will have to limit his movement if he doesn't want to spill his guts, though fiyero can already hear the sizzling of holy light against demonic skin. taking a step back, he flips the hold he has on his sword and runs at the demon, wanting to drive it through his middle.
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innerbeast · 7 days ago
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"maybe put some limitations on requests, i'm not playing cupid. last time was bad enough."
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「𓆄」 "Me neither. This is gettin' out of hand."
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innerbeast · 7 days ago
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"...this ain't what i signed up for when i applied."
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innerbeast · 7 days ago
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senses ached against an aetherial surge, writhing as though they should know this well; as if choked by a means of deja vu. yet, where memory could not reach the body would react, leaving widened eyes to stare at sparks of blue, glossed over with gleeful wonder. matching the growing thrum in his chest swayed a barbed tail, attentive in its emotion-driven display.
their chants became something melodic within the demons anticipation, their ritual urged on in his watchful silence. whomever it was these beastmen wished to behold, dar'khol yearned for the same -- starved for the power felt beyond a haunting glow. again, familiarity seemed to linger with him, pulling, nagging. you know what this is, it tells him, and yet he can only disagree. whatever this was, he could accept one thing.
it excited him.
as their fire-born deity took shape so, too, did an elated grin along the former warrior's features. lips crooked and stretched, fangs left to greet cool air before a heated breath warms them once released. this felt like no god in which he knew, but what strength lay beyond withered, and worn, architecture was deserving of such title. of worship.
yet bestowed this generous marvel, dar'khol's inner nagging remains. worsened ever more once eyes rest upon that which lay clutched within large, clawed fingers. an axe that should otherwise hold no importance, but here he stood with what he could only describe as disbelief. recognition swam through pools of gold, weighing his gaze into one narrowed.
drawn on an instinct unknown the hell-spawns hand rose, palm upturned and fingers slowly curling; curled as though grasping at a handle just out of reach. the movement came naturally, as though trained by prolonged use. never once had he owned such a particular blade yet, still, he already knew. that was his.
but he could not remain in this bubble of remembrance, a sight of movement pulling him from unknown memories -- cutting the unseen strings that puppeteer'd his hand.
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"noticed me, have you?" words are accompanied with an expelled huff -- a laugh, more like -- before ascending from his perch. spears cut through the air beside him, body twisting, jerking between bladed assault. as though dancing through danger itself. during a particular arch backwards a hand extends, claws snatching at the body of a spear, tightening with the friction against his palm.
"i don't much care for the toys of your followers," he announces, hold loosening to offer newly taken weapon an idle spin. quick, simple; a readjustment as its steadily drawn back. "i'm finding myself far more interested in what yours can do!" brief hum bursts into a crack, spear in hand fizzling within a cloak of hellish fire. the flames sputter and surge, engulfing the weapon in its entirety to create something new in its likeness. dar'khol's arm draws back further, but only for a beat -- flaming spear thrown forward like an arrow shot from a high-strung bow.
still, it burns -- brighter, hotter. a set fuse awaiting impact.
ㅤA lone sergal skittered through the alleys of the Hyur-congested city, his two spears clutched in one paw while the other scaled the terrain. This star's foreign, hollow body, devoid of aether and floating corpse-light in space, skinned the beastkin bare to his soul, bloodletting him of his fundamental understanding of existence -- but just as he had been spirited to this dead realm, he felt the presence of his fellow tribesmen gathering miles away, their shared fear and confusion and desires gravitating them to collect together, to orbit around each other. Their distant star lights of aether guided him in an otherwise dark world.
He scrambled for their safety, knowing full well the hostilities the Hyur stoked within them--something untamable drove them to commit horrors against the beast tribes. Unwilling to test their capabilities while isolated from his tribe, he avoided them as much as possible, utilizing his lithe body to leap between buildings, trees, and poles.
With the wind catching on his matted back, the foreboding presence of the Hyurs dwindled over distance, but a vague threat yet lingered in the silence behind him. Tail flicking as if to swat away flies, he darted from the feeling and crossed the final mile to where his tribesmen waited amidst dusk-purple ruins, their dark outlines distinguished by the inner light gleaming from the many eyes of their skull-masks.
"Hurry, hurry."
The tribe could not call for help with even one member missing, and with the threshold for their aetheric potential met, they aired their wolfish heads of their masks in unison, piled the skulls in the shape of a pyre, and waited a tense heartbeat. With the summoning vessel assembled, the aether crystals inset in the irises of their masks' eyes harmonized and flared to a ghostly neon blue, the aether current opening for them to cast their plea. Circling the pyre in a crude ritual dance, they began to chant.
"Om mani padme hum, om mani padme hum ..."
'Round and 'round they danced, nails clicking against the rubble, gruff voices hearkening their god--the one who delivered them unto secluded lands and showed them how to make everything of nature, the one born with the strength two. Their hearts ached to see him, to trust him and be guided by him, and in the bright smoke of the aether current, he heard their souls sing.
The pyre sparked to a roaring blaze, rousing a relieved howl from the tribsemen. They ceased their dance and raised their spears to show their god the way out of the fire, then waited for the flames to coalesce, to bake itself into a shape, and to alight their god on the forsaken realm. Something large took form between the wrinkles of heat; something ancient stepped onto the nascent star.
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Lumbering in earth-quaking steps, the Primal Ryomen-sukuna emerged from the pyre, his hair crinkling as though yet aflame, his fist tightly clutched around a mighty axe. Once free of the fire, he slowed to a pause, his veiled face turning toward his unwelcome spectator, then raised a clawed finger. Though unable to peer into the dark with same clarity as the Primal, the tribsemen trusted his unspoken observation--danger lurked close. With their god's finger as their guide, they launched their spears toward the intruder.
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innerbeast · 8 days ago
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a hum is carried whilst eyes gloss over the agency's bulletin board. few posts stick out to him, everything either taken care of or too small to find immediate interest in ( he'll get around to them if no one else does, though ). the boss man, himself, hasn't announced much, and its not like the agency's resident couch cushion was around for him to bother, either.
there had to be something, though, right? something other than the constant pinging in the back of his skull; the sensation of eyes every so often that forced his ears to flick with mild annoyance.
"as much as i adore some extra attention, the stare down is a little much."
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steadying a hand against his hip, dar diverts his attention from the board. gaze shifting over to the other side of the office where his rather 'brightly' feathered coworker resided.
"i get i'm a pretty face and all... but it's starting to feel like you're expecting me to be doing something. if you've work for me, i'd love to hear it."
@hcrpyiia
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innerbeast · 8 days ago
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... what about a case?
the demon's own curiosity only seems to grow with each, new detail thrown his way. dar's his partner, not his keeper, so if this is some new profession yuri's found interest in he isn't going to keep him from it ( even if none of it is adding up ). he'd expected the handful of odd jobs coupled with couch-warming at the agency, not -- whatever this was.
thankfully, he's kept from giving himself too much of a headache thinking about it, focus stolen away with the grab of an ear. "what do you mean 'how'? i've got excellent hearing, yuri, it isn't that difficult! your voice is very distinct, too. easy to pick up." maybe he did have his own sort of 'yuri-detector', as the other had put it.
a detector in the form of his own adoration, perhaps.
"it's like you've never seen me before, geez... you really are tired, aren't you?" not that he doesn't appreciate the extra attention; each curious touch and exploratory finger. quietly, the hell spawn breathes a sigh, head tilting to press into the hand against his face. "and i would hope you aren't against it. i'd like to keep an us, remember."
the flattering remark isn't entirely lost on him, either. demon or no, his tail kept its own will -- gleefully exposing the swell of pride in the compliment with a wag. some things can't be changed.
"if it would help alleviate your current head fog, i almost wish they stuck around, too." as dar shifts from yuri's hold a smile begins to creep along his lips, ears bouncing pleasantly. "oh, come on, it's not like i did all that much -- it was just a little kick. i can be much flashier, doll."
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cue dar's previous smile tilting, left corner of his lips rising higher in a confident smirk. extending an arm, he latches it around yuri's waist. its twin dipping along with dar to catch his partner behind the knees -- essentially scooping him up, bridal style, into his arms.
"for example," he begins, hold tightening before his back is set ablaze with a roaring crackle. burning display twists, its shape altering just as dar pushes off the ground; wings leading them into the air, above the courthouse.
"i could ferry you away in style."
alright, he likes having his hair played with as much as the next guy, but, uh...
the attorney shoots him a confused, somewhat ruffled look (a pout) when his head's turned to and fro, forcing the uncontrolled flush of his cheeks into full goddamn view.
"delicate? hardly. tired? yes. this case was enough of a headache before those idiots jumped me," he grumbles, shying with a roll of his neck-- convenient an excuse as any. when he turns back moments later, his curiosity's clearly reignited.
"hold it! we're in an alley near the courthouse. how'd you hear me from way over there?" the nearest shop isn't exactly around the corner! he reaches for a furry ear, not too different from what he remembers... only now it's accompanied by those horns, one of which yuri -- in all his boldness -- runs an investigative finger across.
yup, totally fucking real. and what happened to his tattoos? the gaudy eyeliner? don't get him wrong, dar's natural face is always a treat, but this is just... unnatural.
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"were you keeping this under wraps or something?" he prods, unaware of his own, narrowed stare lingering on pools of molten gold. his hand has since fallen against his partner's cheek, too, thumb rubbing gently where he expects makeup to smudge. "i mean, i'm not against having a smoking hot demon for a boyfriend, but..."
he's overthinking it, isn't he? maybe it's normal-- dar's from some sort of fantasy world, after all! what would a dude from earth know about monsters and magic?
ahem. "whatever it is, i almost wish my 'friends' stuck around so i could see this new you in action," his concern forcefully stifled (for now) by impish intrigue. "can't believe you punted a guy as an opener, you show-off."
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