ā āā EVOLUTION
| tw: blood |
some things never change. itās good; itās a reminder he needs. itās why heās with sang; itās why his knife is wet with blood from a vampireās severed head. in jaeyongās world, so changeable and rocked by new and unfamiliar, this stays the same: the blood, the knife.Ā
the hunting partner, not so much. that changes. it used to be daeyong, a presence he thought would never change but did. now, it differs. he goes on more solo hunts these days, sometimes his cousin, sometimes friends, and sometimes sang, who reallyā¦lies in his own category. theyāre friends. usually. regardless, there is camaraderie hereā a shared bloodlust, and subsequently a shared understanding, that jaeyong canāt trust heāll find anywhere else. and so he trusts sang, for better or worse.
heāll probably deserve anything sang does with that trust.Ā
for now, he has sang by his side, a knife dripping with blood, and a craving for violence that isnāt quite satisfied yet. it feels good. familiar, like where heās supposed to be. he raises the blade, getting a closer look of it, then presses his tongue to it briefly. he tastes the blood in his mouth, and his face twists in distaste.
ādamn, they just donāt make vampire blood like they used to,ā he comments. itās not the first time heās licked a bloody knife. probably wonāt be the last. he wonders if the bloodās taste changes from vampire to vampire, or its just his taste thatās changed.
some things never change, but thereās a lot that does. it used to be daeyong. his twin brother, presumed dead a year ago, now essentially confirmed otherwise. if daeyong was dead, his ghost certainly wouldāve come back to haunt him on halloween. did he, however? no.
āpretty sure my brother is a werewolf,ā he says good-naturedly, like itās small talk, like heās just making pleasant conversation, even if he hasnāt spoken of this with anyone other than huangjun. he doesnāt know what makes him say it now.
Ā Ā Ā āāāāāāāāāāāāāāĀ @feysang āāāāāāāāāāāāāāā
it's been awhile since jaeyong has agreed to a ādateā with him, as sang likes to call it (both because it bothers the other, and because he likes thinking of it that way). it's basically a date, isn't it? there's a time and a place to meet up, an activity to do, and maybe some lucky day, he'll finally get jaeyong to stick his tongue down his throat. sounds like a date to him.
his finger taps idly on the blade of his knife as he amuses himself, nail clinking against steel. his gaze drifts from the night sky to jaeyong just in time to see him lick his knife. gross. he scrunches his nose in disgust.
"maybe don't go around licking blood?" he comments like it's common sense. "imagine the diseases, the germs," he sticks his tongue out in a gagging motion. it would've made his stomach turn if not for experience. jaeyong still has a few screws loose even with his recent softening, huh?
enough messing around, he supposes. he leans back down to yank his machete out of a corpse's neck and it suddenly starts spurting blood all over the place. ah, fuck. it got on his shoes...good thing they're black.
he wipes the blood off the blade with a cloth like a sane person would, before inspecting it for any blemishes. nope, still as pretty as the day he got it off some random hunter's corpse. reduce, reuse, recycle.
"like, actually? or is this your way of telling me you found a fursuit in his closet?" he quips back just as casually. he slips his machete back into its sheath before returning his attention to jaeyong. "wait. oh, right. forgot he's supposed to be dead," a chuckle escapes him. "what makes you say that?"
