× l'uomo vitruviano.

@jeongguk ₃ ( H ) as he waited, he enjoyed sitting on a pile of old books – religious books he could not care about. but he found a little booklet with rules for young men and women looking to join the church, and had a great laugh. he laughed so much, he had to wipe tears away from his cheeks. it was all too amusing – they will all wind up in hell one way or another, especially if he had a say in it. repressing natural desires as such was not only ill advised, it was absolutely absurd. having repressed people walking around was exactly what demons needed to fulfil their task of tempting them, it was the easiest job in the book. amos burnt the booklet in his palm, and watched it turn to ash. “humans,” he sighed, maybe there was a little disappointment behind his statement. he liked a challenge, and religious people were far from that. well, maybe not his porcelain doll.

he did not feel time the same, he could not understand how humans could stand the idea of a clock, or hours, or even minutes. when the mass started, he had to send his mind elsewhere – somewhere where he could listen to beautiful music, and see people dance. it was all to boring listening to the same meaningless words – he wished humans would get over it. but nevertheless, his interest peaked when he heard the old attic door squeak. he thought he should make everything a little more interesting – he almost lost his wits listening to ‘holy words’. he moved the books around with his mind, arranging them in a throne-like sitting area, then switched the lights off. he sat in his new chair and waited for a while, letting the human wonder, question, fear. and when he was certain the attention will only be on him, he snapped his fingers to switch the lights on.

“welcome to my humble abode, pretty,” he smiled, but it was not friendly. there was mischief written all over his face, and perhaps there was a hint of malice in his words. he lifted his hand, and locked the door, trapping his prey. “curiosity killed the cat, I suppose,” he smirked, and got up from his sitting area. he walked towards the human, curious himself. “or, shall I say the mouse?” he was close enough now, he could literally smell the boy’s fear. he looked distressed, perhaps he struggled getting up there. good, it was what amos wanted. “oh, how rude. I shall introduce myself,” he stepped back, allowing the human some privacy. it did not matter if he turned around, or tried to escape – amos had all cards in his favour anyways.

“I have many names, you see. I could not possibly answer the question ‘who are you’ honestly. you can give me a name too, if you wish. I suppose that is only proper, given you will keep me around for a while,” amos went back to observing the boy, he stared a little too much – perhaps his gaze bore into his skull, or undressed him. no option was out of question, and none was good. the expression ‘the things I would do to you’ had bizarre ramifications when it came from amos. “of course, I do know you do not condone premarital ual . but, I can assure you, I will hold no grudge against you, and I am a terrific lover,” lines he took from that handbook, he almost burst out laughing as he spoke them. he behaved, for the sake of professionalism. “let me know when you are ready to strike a deal, love,” and he sat back in his throne of old books, waiting patiently.

@baekhyun Jeongguk could sense something totally off from the stranger in front of him. He looked beautiful, too beautiful to be a regular human. An eerie feeling crept all over his skin when he saw the man getting closer, his grip on the candle tightening feeling anxiety started to fill his entire body. He looked around and the only way out was to go through him. His breath hitched when he saw him almost touching him, taking another step backward before letting out a slow breath through his mouth.

The way he spoke was just odd, the words sound foreign to his ears. It was not something that regular people would say. His eyes widening when he saw the fire turned brighter right in front of his eyes like something actually controlling it. Before he could utter any words, his vision turned dark for a moment and when it turned back on he was faced by his father. He gasped and trailed his gaze around the small room, couldn't find the beautiful male from before anywhere. "Jungkook, what are you doing here?" The raven haired male slowly closed his mouth shut before turning his gaze to the priest, slowly shaking his head.

"Nothing Father. I should go." He excused himself and climbed back up to the church but his mind still wandered to the stranger from before. Curiosity was a dangerous thing, especially to a young man like him that was taught all his life about the good in the world. He was taught to never fall into an evil temptation and must devote his entire life to serve God. So he pushed the thoughts aside and spent his day doing his duty around the church but his mind still wandered to the beautiful stranger from before.

Finally the last mass of the day ended and his feet already brought him to the direction of the attic. He never been there before and he had a little bit of struggle to find it. He looked up and found a handle on the ceiling on the wooden door that planted against the concrete ceiling. He bit down on his lower lip and reached up to grip the metal handle, pulling it down and a leader appeared by his action. A dust made a contact with his face that made the him letting out a cough, waving his hand to get rid of the unpleasant particles. Before he could stop himself, his hands already moved to climb up the stairs carefully until he could stand back on his feet.

The attic was dark and cold, he brought his hand to his arm and he rubbed it to calm his nerves. He swallowed the lump on his throat and looked around for a light switch as he called out hesitantly. "Hello?"

@jeongguk ₃ the candle was the only source of light inside the cold, and closed crypt. it reminded amos of some hidden hallways inside his palace. it was quite astonishing how humans managed to emulate the kingdom of hell so well in their church constructions. maybe the architects were truly blessed, or could truly speak with divine forces, or demons. whatever it was, amos did not feel out of place. perhaps he felt more like home than he should have. he used the poorly lit room to his advantage – he offered the boy a smile, a mischievous one that could pass as charming. he could hear his heartbeat, and as the candle flickered, he could identify some of his features.

his cheeks were full, he had a youthful innocence written all over his face – the crevices were filled with light, and wonder. it was that innocence a lot of demons craved for, and amos was no different. the look on every soul’s face when they met him for the first time, or when they were forced to inflict pain on others – it was a religious experience, pun intended. he trapped the boy in one of the worst scenarios – a closed crypt, one way out, only one light source. if he screamed, nobody will hear him, not in time anyways. if he tried to fight, amos could easily restrain him. but attacking him, or destroying his vessel was not amos’ purpose. after all, he came all this way to find him.

“fascinating,” his voice lowered, and he dared raise a hand slowly. he touched the boy’s face very slightly – perhaps he touched the air around his face more than his actual skin. a demon’s touch could be quite painful to humans, he knew that. it could ignite desires long hidden or lost, it could turn them into monsters. and this little toy should not be damaged, not yet. “I have heard of live dolls before. frankly, my subjects have a lovely time using them as vessels. I suppose it is an innate human fear, dolls. I think they are rather harmless, just like you,” he continued, the flame was now brighter. fire reacted to him, it was obeying him. a drop of wax fell on the cold ground.

“time must be running out,” he heard footsteps approaching, he smelled another presence. the presence of an evil soul – a soul he has already claimed for his kingdom. he smirked, and looked at his porcelain doll. “he should not find you here with a boy. but it would be cruel not to satiate your curiosity. come find me, in the attic,” he leaned in, close enough to blow out the candle and disappear. once he was gone, the candle could burn again.

amos teleported to the attic, as promised. demons might be lying leeches, but amos was royalty – he knew how to keep his word if it benefited him. the attic was a place hardly accessible to anyone but construction workers, or perhaps staff members. unlike the crypt, you needed to put an awful lot of effort to get inside the small attic. it was a test amos designed, not a sophisticated one, but one that will prove the boy was worth his time on earth. if he really wanted answers – and amos sensed he did – then he will do anything in his power to get in that attic. amos did not expect him to come right away, on the contrary, he was certain he will have to wait until the end of the day. he did not mind. because just by closing his eyes, he was somewhere else – enjoying dinner with one or two beautiful women, one or two gorgeous men, in one or two countries.

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[ x mood; hozier – movement: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8iOOu-Qsyns

@baekhyun They said that God already created a path for you, like writing a story on a blank paper. From the introduction, the and ended with an ending. Jeongguk was taught since he was still a kid that God was good, that He loved his people and would never leave them astray. He spent his life growing up in the Church since his father was a priest. They said that server of the Church was the closest of being holy and expected not to commit any sins, being a good example to the lambs of God. At first he only followed his own story where he would follow his father's footsteps of becoming a priest himself.

But as he grew older, he realized that something was missing from his life. He never found his life exhilarating, watching boys his age having fun going to the party after school, getting a taste of alcohol were something he wanted to experience it himself. Though there was something else that he secretly crave, a taboo that he shouldn't ever crossed. He noticed that he feel attracted to the same gender, he tried to push the thoughts and desire away but it grew even stronger. His eyes were searching for the masculinity instead of the softness of a girl.

Of course he never shared this to anyone, especially to his family. He could imagine what they will react if they found out their son was attracted to men, his mother probably would faint from shock and his father might disowned him for good. Or maybe they would try to 'fix' him because there were some people around him that got caught and his parents made a pretty ill comments on them saying they were such a disgrace and they committed such a huge sin that they must repel.

It made him having an internal battle with himself, trying to keep that part of him deep inside. It was suffocating to say at least but he did not have any other choice. He sometimes thought that it did not make sense that the Church considered being gay was a sin when he did not even choose to be one, he believed that it already resided inside of him not like he got influenced by anyone. And he was taught that God was loving and forgiving so why they treated people like him so differently? It was a puzzle that couldn't be solved.

The young man was helping his father on Sunday service as usual, another repetitive day without any sense of excitement. He believed that life should be full of colors but his was nothing but dull. He sighed mentally as he scanned the room with his eyes, thinking that people here might be a servant of God. But he believed that they had a secrets of their own, humans were not a perfect after all. His eyes landed on someone within a crowd, his mouth parted lightly because the man was beautiful that he almost looked inhumane.

He memorized the people here but he never saw him before even though he spent most of his times at the Basilica. He tried his best not to stare but he couldn't deny the male's beauty, others were nothing compared to him and it made him swallow the lump on his throat. When the service ended, he decided to clear his head and walked down the stairs down to the crypt lighting up a candle for the source of light as he walked down the long hallway.

But suddenly he felt another presence behind him making him freeze on his spot, turning around slowly and was met by the sight of ethereal latter from before. He shouldn't be here, it was prohibited for people that was not the church's employees. When he was about to say what was on his mind, the words that came out from the other's mouth stopped him. "What...? What are you talking about? Who are you?" He asked with pure confusion on his doe eyes, completely lost on what the man meant.

@jeongguk ₃ hell is a lonely place. perhaps not as lonely as it is boring, repetitive, always in the same state, meeting the same people, repeating the same stories. ‘they never learn’ is what they say about hell, and earth. because if they learn, they will be in heaven. and the entire narrative that follows that statement. demons have always been eager to escape the dull place – believe it or not, earth is an attractive holiday location for most of them. but whilst demon soldiers, or little demons rarely survive on the surface, someone with greater power could, and would make earth their playground. however, those with power have a great responsibility elsewhere. engaging in human affairs is quite unusual, unless a special occasion arises, a once in a hell-time opportunity. a soul who is worth the bother.

walking down the streets of the suddenly flourishing 1950s italy is far better than walking down the rooms of the pit, scowling at clumsy demons for delivering a punishment wrong. besides, having one head is far more convenient than dragging four around, right? wearing clothes is liberating, having a beautiful face is exhilarating, being worshipped is euphoric. he could not have asked for a better treatment from humans – they are oblivious to what happens underneath, and he does not wish to spoil the surprise. the air still stinks of burning corpses, and gunpowder – the second world war brought many souls to the pit, and left an imprint on cities across the world that will not be erased soon. he could still smell the carnage of the first war, somewhere embedded in the buildings, and on the faces of the old folk. if he closed his eyes, he could see the same environment across all europe – he opened his eyes in paris for a change, but women were prettier in italy.

a young girl covered shyly as she walked pass him, mumbling in a high pitched italian ‘he is handsome’. he knew the tongues of humans, all of them. the new, the present, the lost. he heard them all, spoke them all – flirted in them all. but only on earth was he compelling enough. in the pit they saw his real face, his deformed face, the one that punishes them – not the sweet one that lures them in. music was playing in the small restaurants, people were enjoying their morning or rushing to work. the city was alive, and so was he. the church bells chimed seven, and he could not help but smile at the irony. if his brothers could see him now, they would be jealous – beezlebub would make a scene, and turn every human he encounters into dust. he was friendlier than his brothers, but deadlier. he was the demon that killed with words, with deals, with beautiful lies. pulverising humans was a far too kind punishment for sinners, and he believed in a fair trial – as long as he got the better end of the bargain.

he has many names, and humans never cease to impress him with their creativity. some have nicknames for him, others reduce him to ‘demon’, others respect his authority and call him ‘prince’. even his brothers have different names for him, some endearing, some not so much. he sees himself as a king, after all, he rules at least one domain of hell. carnal desire, as old as time – pure, raw uality. illegal acts of lust, devastating desire – all of it, he is all of it. he is lust, and his name is asmodeus. but today, he is amos – an investor, a model, a religious man. the last one was his way of making fun of divinity, he found it amusingly blasphemous.

he eyed the basilica of san vitale in his mind. a beautiful building, he envisioned it – perhaps he saw it painted at a gallery in spain, he could not remember. but it stuck with him for a while – the construction looked similar to his palace, albeit way smaller. he turned left and walked aimlessly through a wall – people stared at the disappearing act, yet did not bother with it too much. it was the ‘50s, if missiles can fall from the sky, anything is possible! he appeared in front of the church and slid his hands in his pockets. he took his sweet time observing it – after all, he had enough time. he closed his eyes, and absorbed the surroundings. he caught a whiff of something interesting, someone interesting – the same scent that reached his palace and made him come. his name did not matter, but his soul was alluring. amos opened his eyes and followed a group of people inside, pretending to be just another religious person present for sermon. a young mother glanced at him, and her cheeks reddened. he looked at her for a second, and claimed her soul – adultery, he smelled it on her. yet she was praying, hoping she will be forgiven. maybe she will, if she does not end up sleeping with him.

but she was not the soul he came for, no. the soul he wanted was pure, yet troubled. struggling to be in a place he did not belong. the repressed anger, lust, and will. all of it was a recipe meant for disaster, and he was there to deliver it. he looked up, and admired the architecture – he should have his palace renovated. he might have been a demon, but he had taste. it was something, given his brothers lacked his fine eye for the aesthetics, save for lucifer but he has always been special. ironic how asmodeus is the ugliest down there. he looked around, stood in line to touch one of the paintings. he did not get humans, touching a painting will not solve anything. he looked at the sculpture of an angel, and had to suppress his urge to burst out laughing. it was michael, in a toga, with a nose job. he met michael briefly before, millennia ago, in a vision – angels despised demons, but they needed them so they decided to be docile and not kill them all off. the world needed demons, and he could not help but take a little pride in that – perhaps they were all suffering from too much pride in the pit. his eyes found the soul he has been looking for – a young boy, docile, reading from the holy book, guided by his father.

“hello, father. we shall talk later,” amos muttered under his breath as he caught the unmistakable scent of a ual predator. one of the children looked up at him in awe, his eyes bulging with fear. amos looked down at him and smiled, the boy tried to hide behind his mother. sometimes children saw bits and pieces of his real self, maybe he saw the goat’s eyes, or maybe the hooves. or maybe he was fortunate enough to hear his demonic voice, the one that would keep someone up at night on earth. too bad humans could not hear on hell’s frequency – they would quickly discover that his voice was actually very pleasant compared to other demons.

once his target was left alone, and walked away from the crowd, amos tailed him. he went into a small, cold room under the church – perhaps the crypt. he had his candle with him, but amos could smell his fear, his insecurity. being surrounded by holy bones was not really an ideal first date, however, he could not pick and choose locations. amos knew this was the perfect place. the light stopped in front of him, and he stopped in his tracks, smirking. he knew the boy felt his presence, and perhaps he caught sight of him because the light was approaching. the entrance of anyone but the church’s employees in the crypt was prohibited, amos expected to be told off. actually, he was counting on it.

“save it,” he said before the boy could say anything, amos was not the best at subtle introductions. he had a flare for the dramatic, and he enjoyed human reactions far too much. his italian was quite pleasant, fluent, literary. “I have something you want,” he continued. “perhaps we can make a deal.”

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[ x basilica inside: https://govisity.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/Basilica_of_San_Vitale__Ravenna__Italy.jpg
X basilica outside: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/10/Basilica_di_San_Vitale_02.jpg