Fantasy Higanbana | Rose & kurishiri

[roxybirdie]

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VESPER KRELL

life is fleeting, death is eternal, but wealth is ever changing.

Wake up, a voice whispered.

Vesper was drowning. The demon’s presence — scent, blood, and soul — was akin to a drug; overwhelmingly intoxicating and addictive. Every time he pulled back, the demon unsheathed his metaphorical claws and drug him under. Like an addict, the raven-haired informant succumbed to the sweet, overpowering high. It encompassed his thin frame, simultaneously siphoning all the life in his veins and lighting his nerves on fire. It was peculiar, sensational, contradicting—

Wake. Up! a voice hissed.

A soft whimper elicited from the back of his throat. The ravenette tugged the demon closer, sharpened claws piercing the fabric of the older man’s robes. Vesper swiped his tongue across the bottom of his destined’s lip. The delectable combination of the demon’s coppery nectar and potent soul evoked another moan.

UP! a voice shrieked.

His knees trembled, but the informant remained standing out of sheer determination. Bone-white fingers dipped in obsidian — the talons are long and wickedly sharp — slithered up, cupping the base of the brunette’s head. All of the sudden, icy fingertips grazed his soul-mark, eliciting a pleasured hiss. Shivers trickled down his spine.

WAKE UP! a voice bellowed.

His eyes snapped open once more, vermillion eyes wide. It took him a moment to register the voice inside his mind; his instincts. While his soul cried, sobbed, and begged — therefore, influencing his instincts — his rational side took over. Without the hypnotic pull of the incomplete soul-bond consuming him, and weakening his control, Vesper noticed his current position. Almost immediately, the informant stiffened.

“You bastard,” he growled hoarsely, a raw sense of vulnerability evident in his cold tone. Talons curled around the demon’s neck, tips posed to penetrate the brunette’s fair skin. “Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want a soulmate?” he hissed. His lips curled back, expression twisting into pure and unadulterated hatred. “You have the gall to use me...” Suddenly, shadows slithered around his frame rapidly. “...I refuse to be your unwilling bride, demon!” Darkness enveloped his frame, to the point he was on the verge of dissolving.

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[kurishiri]

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KOUYA

beauty—a veil to cover the darkest and the most toxic of one's heart.

Once again, it was sudden.

If Kouya wanted this boy in front of him, it was evident that he would need to get used to his rapid changes. One moment, he could be lost in an ethereal paradise, and the next, he would be back in reality, hissing strong words with rage that stab with a metaphorical yet strangely real dagger.

Honestly, he liked the boy when he was drowning in pleasure, but he also must confess that his angry expression was very much to his liking. And despite his undeniably sharp words, Kouya couldn't help but be impressed at the level of control this boy in front of him had. Not just anybody would be able to resist a demon's temptation, after all, much less a soul bond.

When the boy came back to his senses, Kouya felt as if he had been ripped back into reality. However, even when the boy hissed the word "bastard" as if it was a lethal poison, he could still feel the lingering vulnerability. No... not even lingering.

It was raw vulnerability. It was so sheer, clear in front of Kouya. It couldn't have possibly gone unnoticed.

Despite that though, the boy still used his sharp, talon claws to puncture his throat. Kouya also noticed shadows starting to form around the boy's body. For the first time, Kouya suddenly frowned, and it stayed a frown; he could not bring himself to smile. Not after he... had been pushed away so many times.

Abruptly, as if as a warning, Kouya felt a sharp pain. It wasn't due to the boy's claws; the pain was on his chest. Dammit, Hanahaki.... In spite of himself, Kouya couldn't keep in a hiss of pain, but his desperation still took the best of him, dominating his actions as he grasped the boy's arm—the one that was holding him by the throat—tightly. His eyes were dead serious, though laced with pain as well.

Did it ever occur to you that I don't want a soulmate?

Kouya only pondered the question for a few seconds before responding... with a question of his own. "... Since when have demons considered feelings like that? Besides, your harsh words won't affect me much if you look at me with that vulnerable expression." Kouya smirked, reaching out to touch the boy's face. "And what could you ever mean? I didn't have any 'gall' to use you—you were the one who returned the kiss. I'm sure that if you really wanted to, you could have pushed me away?"

His expression then hardened ever so slightly as he stated after a little pause, "You refuse to be my 'unwilling bride'... and I refuse to make the same mistake as I have in the past." Kouya used his other hand to pull down the front of his robe so as to expose his shoulder and chest. The now-visible crimson-colored crack-like mark, its color a stark contrast with his pale skin, went down from his shoulder to the left side of the chest... where the heart was located. The cracks occasionally glowed ever-so-slightly (though not anywhere near bright enough to be seen through his robes), pulsing in harmony with Kouya's faint heartbeat. And if one looked very carefully, they could see the tiniest of buds on his shoulder as well.

Another little pause. However, it was swiftly shattered by Kouya's silky, inquiring voice.

"Does... Hanahaki ring a bell?"

— template by astraea —