nunchii | [ o p e n p o s t ]

[ This was not a good idea. Repeated in his mind for the 20th time since he decided to do this but it was too late now. He had followed the instructions, cleared off a table in his research room and locked the door so his twin would never find out. He had spent his life trying to research a scientific way to get rid of this side of him that he didn't want to exist but sometimes supernatural issues needed supernatural resolutions.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

The instructions seemed pretty easy so just follow them step by step. Just like cooking, right?

Ignoring the fact the last time he cooked something he almost gave himself food poisoning.

But anyway. He's going to take a deep breath and follow eat step in this old book he found until at the end of all this, someone will come and grant him a future free of this mutant body he was born into. ]

[ The sea called to Kai often, singing along in his veins, invoking such a strong longing within him. The whisper of the waves crashing, the rise and fall which always made sense no matter what. He moved along the water and felt a freedom he never experienced on dry land, at least until a twist of fate happened and turned everything upside down.

Rook surged into his life, an unstoppable force to wreck everything he built around himself. Eroding the edges until the top tides pulled him closer and closer. But it stung all the same, a yearning of which could never be. There were moments he thought maybe but in the end he had to drift away from the feelings.

Or so he thought.

Singing along to the radio, since no one was home yet, he moved around the kitchen happily making dinner. He wanted something special to distract himself from what he wishes he could have.

As he put the vegetables into the stew, he paused when he heard a knock on the door. He ran to answer it, laughing at who he saw standing there. ]

Rook, since when do you use a door? Usually, you just pop into my bed. But come in. I'm making stew if you want any. It takes like hours to make and is worth every second.

[ It had been a day or two since the incident, and while the anger and rage had finally started to quell, there were still residual aches that plagued Jae's heart, as cheesy as it sounded. Flashes of memories of his conversations with the reaper, how they would joke and talk before and even after his resurrection as a demon.

Then again, he knew that this was part of how he grieved. Becoming a demon didn't change that much in that regard.

But he also knew he needed to move on. He had taken to teleporting around the world to make sure that he wasn't as easily traced during his destructive streaks, but now that it seems to have calmed down, he needs to return. He had been neglecting his phone during this time, having shut it off and leaving it back at his apartment in Seoul - he was afraid that talking to others might have set him off further. But now...

A flash and a puff of smoke later, he's back in the apartment, turning his phone on finally while he cleaned himself up. At this point, he had finally willed away all of his demonic traits - minus his horns. For some reason, it felt better to let them stay for the time being, he wasn't going to go out into the public eye anytime soon anyway.

Once he finished cleaning up, he swipes away any message notifications, focusing on texting one singular contact in particular. ]

I'm back in Seoul. I apologize if I worried you, love. Can I see you yet today?

[two days after his encounter with leviathan, jiho's up and on his feet again. it's partly because levi was just playing with him more than anything, but it's an equal part his own stubbornness. he still fumes every time he thinks about him, to the point where jiho needs to get out. his back and shoulder are still sore, but kwang's stitching is just as good the second time around. the claw wounds won't reopen.

he knows there's a real possibility of rook following him, so he does his best to ninja in and out of the shadows, never able to vanish for very long at one time. hopefully being small and quick and dressed in all black, hood up, works in his favor.

it's a little while later when he sends the demon a text, telling him to come, and quickly, and possibly giving him his second heart attack this week. when he comes to him, it's somewhere dark, with only a candle lighting up the corner.

jiho is sitting in the booth, hoodie removed to reveal the nicer shirt that he was wearing underneath. he lifts his eyes to rook's a little uncertainly.]

I didn't know what you like, so I just ordered four different things. Pasta is pasta, right?

[there were plenty of times in the past when jiho would wake up to find rook's side of the bed empty, or the demon would be there one moment and gone the next. he didn't give it too much thought. he just assumed that rook wanted a change of scenery for his napping, or jut got bored of watching jiho read his book while fighting his feelings.

he knows the truth now, realized it one night when rook went from all bright smiles to a look of disappointment and a whispered apology before he left ash against the fingers that had just been touching his hair. the nail is driven even deeper the second time, when rook comes back with marks on his body, when he promised jiho that it didn't hurt but had trouble meeting the assassin's eyes.

jiho, like everyone, had assumed things. he knows better now, and one of the pains of caring for someone is that when they hurt, you hurt. even the times when he returns quickly, and unbothered, he's still too often pulled away in the middle of a story or a smile. he has no control over it, and jiho will never fault it for him.

he knits while he's gone, trying not to fume, trying not to worry. the blanket gets longer, and jiho's skill gets better, until one day rook returns and can crawl underneath it with him, jiho pulling it up over their heads. he touches the demon's face in the semi-darkness, trying to express so many things with soft touches of his lips: i'm glad you're back. i'm glad you're okay. sometimes it seems to take rook a little time to ground himself back into this, something soft that doesn't make demands of his body. which makes jiho hesitant to even ask, but he wants to know.]

How would I be able to summon you?

[the last time that swamp house came to the beach was wasted on jiho. he never even went into the water, just sat high up on the beach wearing all black and occasionally yelling 'shark' just to see if anyone at all was alert to the danger.

this time it's just them, a last chance before the weather turned too cold. the assassin is wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans, because today he's not an assassin. ...even if he does write a list of names in the sand. rook just laughs and kicks a bare foot over it before picking him up and threatening to walk into the oean with him.

jiho makes him put him down, but there's an air of mischief about him that belies his spoilsport protests. he glances around once, quickly, and then fixes his gaze on the demon as he strips off his shirt. his hands go to the front of his jeans next.]

Want to take a dip?

[there are still times when jiho leaves the house for a few hours at a time. not nearly as much as he used to. there are even times like this one when he (gasp) goes out during the light of day, often returning with a new book or some new tea. yarn. a scented candle....

fuck. this really is who he is now.

he returns with all of those things today, along with a new secret under his hoodie. he doesn't bother calling out for rook when he returns. he can hear the shower running. sometimes rook takes them because, like anyone, he enjoys a nice leisurely shower. sometimes he has other reasons.

jiho feels guilty for leaving at all then. rook taught him his summoning, and while the assassin hasn't used it yet, he's ready. he's never seen the rook who will return to him then, but jiho knows his strengths, knows himself. he'll be able to handle it.

he toes off his converse, pulling his hoodie off with a grimace before shimmying out of the skinny jeans and going to join him under the spray of water. this is the kind of intimacy that jiho always avoided before, would fuck to put up a wall against it. but goddamn if he doesn't enjoy the feeling of soap and rooks fingers in his hair, or sliding his hands over the other's damp skin. he steps into the shower behind him, favoring his left shoulder against the spray. that's where the brand is, the symbol for rook's demonic name angry and red on his pale skin.

jiho steps closer behind him, pressing a kiss between the demon's shoulder blades.]

It's up to you to keep me warm if the hot water runs out.

[ There are a lot of beings out there that Minjun has been tasked with keeping an eye on. From sirens singing in busy ports to gnomes just trying not to be turned into lawn ornaments, he has a lot on his plate. But sometimes he takes on a project that's just for him, keeps a person a secret from those who control him. Minjun still keeps tabs on them himself but he does so in his free time--or what little of it he has, anyway.

He forgets where he first ran into Rook, but he's kept an eye on him ever since. There's a charm to the demon that goes beyond what he's so naturally able to do; part of it is just how unlike any other demon Minjun has had the misfortune to deal with he is. A strangely... sweet secret? It's odd.

There are bags in his hands when he shows up at Rook's place, filled with a bunch of ingredients he picked up on his way over. His hand lifts to knock when he pauses and promptly searches out the spare key to just unlock the door himself. Easier. Plus, he had sent a message already that he was coming over, so at least it's not a surprise.

Minjun toes his shoes off once he's inside and locks the door back up behind him. ]

Rook, I'm here.

[ gil likes earth. he enjoys the people and what they can do for him and how fun and varied it all is. hell is too much, too political, too many people fighting and struggling for just a little more power over everyone else and it's boring. so he doesn't like to go back, not much, but every now and then--

well. he's heard there's been an actual major shift to the hierarchy down there. he supposes maybe it's time to go back for a little visit. pay homage and what have you. it's important to at least look like he still cares about the politics.

as soon as he steps through the gate his glamor disappears, horns and tail and wings all reappearing, all just as small as the rest of him but still just as sharp. he lashes out with the tail at someone trying to touch, his nose wrinkling just a bit in their direction. he doesn't have time for the little ones, he's after the big fish.

he knocks, politely, but enters the chambers all the same, gaze darting around with a faint hum. and then they finally land on him and gil just stops moving forward as he lets out a noise of appreciation. ]

Holy fuck you're pretty.

[ hah. holy. ]

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human au.

hey rook so your vampdemon is an emotional wreck

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gib cardinal pls