daemxnium

[daemxnium]

for: beck / @moravitris​

“Have you seen her?” She barely bothered with pleasantries, as Alice burst through the door and into the room, she was every bit the storm that she drew much of her strength from. With her emotions unchecked, water seemed to draw closer to her— from glasses and in the condensation dripping down the window, all of it shifted, hungry to return to a source that knew it well. Beck hadn’t changed, over the years. She had grown older, as they all did— and perhaps she wouldn’t recognize her at all. The hunter had only ever known her as a girl, someone who stood waist high and parroted a barrage of ceaseless questions that Evangeline had never found too tiresome to provide answers to. The thought of her sister made her crumple a little, drawing a hand roughly through her pale hair. “Did she say anything to you?” Blue eyes lifted, and they were seeking, reaching for anything to hold onto that looked like hope. “Is she alright?”

[daemxnium]

for: raphael ekker / @midnightmadncss​

“Get out of the way,” Laila spoke distractedly, reaching for Raphael’s shoulders to shove him out of her path. She could have been rougher, she supposed, but the action was still forcible— sometimes one had to be cruel to be kind and her attention was fixed upon the shadow that curved behind a wall and out of sight. A low curse slipped from her, visible from hot breath in cold air, before she turned back to Raphael. “There’s a demon here tonight.” Whatever expression she set upon him was something crazed and unsteady, dark eyes darted behind him once, and then twice. “She looks like something loved, but lost.” An uneasy smile curved at her mouth, bearing too many teeth. “Sometimes, she sets the world on fire. Have you seen her?”

[daemxnium]

— The Flower, Kim Chun-soo (translated by Chae-Pyong Song and Anne Rashid)

[text ID: We all long to be something. / You, to me, and I, to you, / long to become a gaze that won’t be forgotten.]

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Penelope Mitchell as Renee Picard (2022-)

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qvietinfvrno​:

Being back on Grand Manan was one of the newest comforts of home that she’d come to understand. To fear a place that should have been welcoming, was something she’d known for far too many years of her life, but this island - the people, Mariela quickly grew to see how so many people could linger, in the hopes that the promise of peace and safety would prevail. That said, she was all too aware that among those with the warmest hopes, came those that moved like snakes and the familiar voice that hissed in her ear sent a chill up over her spine as if his venom came purely from the sickening edge of his tone alone. Though she didn’t still, fingertips flexed, her muscle memory seeking out the blade missing from the palm of her hand in that very moment. “Saint.” It slips through grit teeth and though she doesn’t wish to offer him an ounce of her attention, she casts an indignant glare across her shoulder, and up at him. “Go on, call them over.” The small mouthful of her drink she takes brings a quiet pause between them before she returns the cold shoulder, “I’d bet my life they’d rather drag you out by the throat than me.”

.

She didn’t flinch— and it earned her a modicum of his respect in return. He had half a mind to flick his tongue out, forked as it should have been, and leave a stripe along the side of her throat. His name left her mouth and he, the devil’s adder, curled tighter around her in delight of it. There was a name for it, the enjoyment of making others feel small, but it reflected in the name he had chosen for himself: he took on the title of something biblical, everything else with breath was forced to look heavenward to address him.   Mariela was a spark, she toyed with it appropriately and it brought his own serrated smile to settle upon his features. “I think they’re scared of me,” he volleyed back, huffing a laugh. “You aren’t though.” It was an observation, a fact that they both knew he desired very much to alter. “I can’t decide if it’s foolish, or brave, or if it means that I haven’t been putting forth my best effort lately.”

[daemxnium]

for: mia sommer / @midnightmadncss​

The seventy-two hours had passed, and Danny was officially declared to be missing. Sleep evaded her, and worry seemed to consume all that was left. Hours trickled away and the sun rose and set as though it saw nothing wrong with the landscape that it painted in broad strokes of yellow and orange: it continued to bring day, oblivious to the fact that someone within it was missing. They’d always been close, twins often were— they grew up side by side and tangled together as they stamped through Grand Manan, every corner that she knew by heart was one she had discovered with her brother by her side. Now, when she spoke she felt that her voice echoed as a result of the great emptiness that his disappearance had caused.

She didn’t know what to do. She was scaring Daphne, she knew that well enough. Her daughter had crawled into her bed each night and tucked under her chin as though she was a little girl again— doing the comforting in place of what Reed felt was her duty to soothe the worries she would have about her uncle. The lack of sleep made her clumsy and last night’s attempt at making dinner had lead to a casserole dish shattering against the linoleum as she dropped it, leading to an outburst of tears before they had simply ordered pizza.

When Daphne was at school and the house was at its quietest, she felt at her worst. The island seemed to echo the loss and press her fears into her chest as though they were shoving her breath back into it, not even drawing the curtains shut offered reprieve. It was noon when she flung her jacket on and raced outdoors, paying little attention to where she was going. One foot cast out ahead of the other until she stood in front of the bakery, clutching her hands in front of her as she peered inside. Mia was behind the counter, and flour brushed white against her cheek as she worked at the slicer. She was laughing at something that someone said inside, and Reed desperately wanted to hear it, to feel the chime of her joy.

For the first time in a week, she felt a small measure of peace. She knocked at the glass, daring not to enter inside— not when she looked how she did, half-crazed and unsettled for it. When blue eyes found her own, she gestured out to the bench, indicating that when Mia was done inside, she was there waiting.

[daemxnium]

for: reyhan karagöz / @midnightmadncss​

“I know you,” Sebiorn piped up, squinting at the familiar-but not familiar face. No name was conjured up, and he scrambled to find one, gesturing wildly. “You used to work at the cafe in town I like, but you always got my order wrong.” His head canted, and he sipped the to-go cup of the earl grey he liked so much, prepared the correct way. There was no mistaking the wild nature of magic, it seemed to swirl around the witch in a way he could almost taste: the air was metallic with it, it stung at the back of his throat, whispering of the power that she held. Magic users were not to be trifled with, but neither was he when he was ruffled. “Did you quit, or were you fired?” Seb took a sip from his cup, “I didn’t think that anyone actually read the customer complaint ballots.”

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[daemxnium]

for: leo sutton / @heartofasoldier​

“Careful now,” Sebiorn voiced, stepping silently behind the figure in the alley. His steps were silent, a practice that had come from years of chasing behind another who tended to be more wily than most— but the bent head was brushed golden like a crown, even if he had been doused in macabre. He kept his tone low, as if he was approaching a wild animal that was prone to startle at the crash of sudden movement or light. “If you keep going, you’ll have to find a place to bury him.” Keen ears picked up the sound of a pulse, weak but ebbing, desperately grasping for life in the same way that the sun starved to slice through the dark. “You’re new at this, aren’t you?” It was a quiet observation, paired with his hand reaching for the younger vampire’s shoulder.

[daemxnium]

for: vince kolev / @moravitris​

“I know I bring it up every decade or so,” Sebiorn lazed, leaning back on the sherpa recliner that he had purchased and just had installed in the living room. The presence of a carpenter in their home had sent Vince into the garage to saw furiously at some timber, but the other vampire was far too content on his certifiably cozy new perch. “But I think we could do with a little more life running around the house, don’t you?” He gestured out to their living space, which held only the two of them. “Not a dog, unless you promised to walk it every day, but maybe,” a dramatic pause, matched with a long sip from the wine glass he held out in his hand. “A fledgling vampire? Just a little thing that we can raise on our own. It could be nice, I haven’t had to scold you about dragging a mess onto my nice carpets in years, I’m afraid I’ll forget how to do it.”

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Trista Mateer, from Aphrodite Made Me Do It; “Personal reflections on gender”

[Text ID: “sucking the dirt out from under your own nails just to taste where you came from / without ever having to go back there”]

[daemxnium]

for: dealer’s choice! / @postremorisu​

A head of dark hair caught her attention in the crowd and Magda’s breath fled her lungs with little ceremony. One moment she was far away and the next she had dropped her drink, leaving the splash of wine and the shatter of glass for someone else to attend to as she shoved her way through the sea of partiers and merrymakers. “Please move,” she urged, wrestling through the thickest parts of the people, all while desperately keeping an eye on the tall figure that was slowly fading from sight. She yelled his name, caring little for who stared at the choked cry from the tiny woman. Her voice was hoarse, and she still fought through the most of them, stumbling forward and tripping into the side of someone innocently passing by. “I’m sorry—“ the apology was half-formed and she whipped her attention ahead, where the figure turned and the profile revealed itself to be that of a stranger. “I’m so sorry,” Magda repeated, heaving a defeated breath as her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Are you alright?”

[daemxnium]

for: leon winter / @midnightmadncss​

She had never before, but it was now that Magda envied vampires who flipped the switch and turned their humanity off. For just a moment she wished to be cut off from emotion, from the flood of devastation and hurt— she reached out at night to grasp at a body that was not there, and when she roamed the halls of an empty home, her voice and cries echoed back alone. Henry was missing, she refused to use language that included death or the word gone, it was an impossibility to her that she would remain in motion when he had been robbed of her forever. She’d left Archie with Leon for a while, finding that in her grief she was neglecting the creature, who didn’t understand that it wasn’t out of a lack of love, but out of the inability to care for another at present. Already she had torn the woods surrounding Grand Manan apart, searching desperately for Henry’s scent, his steps, any sign of him— but had only returned home muddied and disappointed. It didn’t make any sense, and yet duty brought her to Leon’s front door to knock at it, even when she wished to descend into hysterics once again. It wouldn’t do her any good, and Archie would miss her without a visit, but she felt like something stretched far too thin— when Leon opened the door she wiped the heels of her hands against her cheeks and offered a smile. “Is it okay if I come in?”

[daemxnium]

Morgan Parker, Other People’s Comfort Keeps Me Up At Night; “Greetings from Struggle City”

[Text ID: For a taste of your neck I would / burn my tongue]

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if i was a bug i would find you every lifetime just to die in your drink

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Tolga Mendi Sol Yanım | 8. Bölüm

[daemxnium]

for: evette roberts / @hcll-bound​

“It looks like you won’t be needing my services tonight,” Saint voiced as he approached Evette, gesturing to the surrounding party and the magic that hung in the air to quell thirst— and spell work. He hadn’t of thought to bring her a drink, but sipped idly at the amber liquid that sat in the bottom of the glass he toted with him. It was like this that he was reminded of who she had been, before her humanness had been stripped away. A hunter, someone intent upon the righteousness of their craft. She had once had a life dedicated to destroying the essence of what he was, and it brought him a measure of perverse pleasure to know that she was reduced to something parasitic: something hunters deemed worthy of death. The descent into depravity made her far more interesting than she had ever been before, hunger was an emotion that swallowed up everything else and still found itself unable to be satiated, it was his favourite to toy with. She’d called him a god, and Saint smirked at the memory. “What do you plan on doing with all that freedom?”