reactive

sehun. demigod. child of set. aggression and panic inducement.

[mpyoungjae]

1 Tequila, 2 Tequila, 3 Tequila, 4| open

Youngjae sat at the bar, he had been drinking for a while, it was the only time he wasn’t biting back the burning sensation in his chest of isolation. Of wanting to be anything but what he was. He hated it here, he hated it anywhere, all he could do was hurt people, no one had ever been in pain and liked it - well not the type of pain he inflicted. He could still hear the whispers of people behind him, talking about him being the son of Lei King. He didn’t want to always be followed by that, but it seemed around here it was impossible to get away from that. It was something he couldn’t get away from his dad - ironically as he’d never even gotten to meet his dad. He called the bartender over and ordered shots, tequila always made it easier - plus it was the one thing he knew would get him drunk off his face quickest.

He knocked them back and smiled at the bartender, he wondered if the bartender knew who he was, and what he did. It hadn’t exactly been a secret, he looked down as his phone lit up, he rolled his eyes and got up, his walking wasn’t exactly perfect as the alcohol rushed to his brain once he stood up. He got outside and sighed when he had missed the call, he didn’t call back he didn’t imagine drunk him made the best conversation. Drunk him was like normal him except less self loathing. He leant against the wall of the club, he left his smokes in his flat - he was cutting down. Well, he was trying to.

[mpsehun]

“Uh-”

That unintelligent sound coming from above the other was courtesy of one Oh Sehun, child of Seth, the god of ‘fuck off I’m a nut job’. Alright, so Sehun didn’t have the highest opinion of his dad, whatever, nothing new here, because for all that he might grudgingly admit he loves his mother, well he didn’t always have to say he enjoyed her personality. Of course, unlike many people who have issue with a missing parent, Sehun never took it upon himself to think he was responsible for that. Nope. The missing pops never once made him feel bad about himself, and after meeting the God? Definitely didn’t think it would have been any cozy family picture with that guy around. 

So, why is Oh Sehun such a jerk? Hm. Good question, even he wasn’t quite sure about that answer. Probably genetics. Yeah, he’d go with that. 

Right now though, he’s not actively being an asshole, probably because he’s just had himself a good fight in the alley behind the club, gotten his knuckles all scuffed from socking another man in the face. He’s also more relaxed thanks to the cigarette perched between his lips, a pair of lips that are currently curled in distaste as he frowns as the person who just slumped himself down in the alley too. Sehun’s really nothing but a tall shadow of a man like this, leaning against the brick and keeping to himself, enjoying his short lived peace, but he can’t help to ruin the moment when he notes what this newcomer to the outside has just done to himself. 

“Dunno if you did it on purpose,” he says after an exhale of smoke, his own voice just as unobtrusive as disappearing smoke. “But, where you’re standing? Someone else yacked.”

That ‘someone’ being the other guy in the fight, the one he’d punched right in the diaphragm and subsequently caused them to throw up the liquor they’d had. 

[mpsehun]

fore - open

[mpsehun]

Walking home from ‘Mr. Feelgood’ was never an easy task. Mostly due to the fact men didn’t know how to keep their hands to themselves, especially when they knew who she was. It was sickening. So ignoring various cat-calls and stare downs, the demigod scoffed and instead began to light up a cigarette to keep herself busy.

It was an unusually chill night and there was nothing better than some good old beer and a pack of cigarettes to keep one warm. Caixia put the end of one between her lips and held it there as she went to go out her lighter back in the pocket of her leather jacket. Everything seemed to go smoothly until something when whizzing by her head, nearly missing her and hitting a trash can instead.

Her brows furrowed as she glanced up at the sky and then over at the fallen trash can. Going over to inspect it, she was surprised to see a small white ball that Cai is familiar with.

Since when did the sky start raining golf balls?

She stood there for a moment and then went on to see another one flying past her and right through a department store’s window. After this, a grin spread across her face an she instead took a detour to the source of the golf balls.

Whatever this was, she wanted in.

Following the spot where the balls seem to be coming from, she stared at the rooftop for a short moment before making her own way up there. It took her a couple tries to find the enterance to the rooftop but when she did, she threw aside her cigarette and climbed up the short ladder to the rooftop. And when she was finally up there, she simply stared at the male who seemed to be the source of all this mess before speaking.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?”

The words are likely meant to intimidate, but even such an abrasive question as is spoken to him doesn’t get much more than a raised brow from Sehun. And this is only after he’s completed his swing of the club and watched the soaring ball’s trajectory, despite having heard another joining him on the roof. Twirling the driver’s club around in his hand after he’s heard a most resounding crash from where ever that ball had landed, Sehun only then turns around to acknowledge the female that had spoken to him. 

“Pretty fucking obvious I would think,” he says in reply to her fairly rude inquiry. Not that rudeness bothers Sehun. In fact, he’s nearly immune to disapproval or disgust from others, making him the perfect portrayal of the careless guy every good parent wants to keep their daughter away from. 

Twirling the club again, he doesn’t bother to give her any further explanation than the demonstration she’d just witnessed, and the next one he’s offering as he goes to set up to tee off again. Despite his nonchalant attitude, and the sorry state of his attempt at formal golfing attire, Sehun spends a comical amount of time setting up for his next swing of the club. Shuffling his feet and flexing his glove-covered fingers, getting in a couple practice swings like he thinks himself some sort of pro. Its as he’s doing this that he asks her his own question. 

“What do you think? That flower cafe a couple blocks over? Or the Italian place down the street from it?” Its his question of where he ought to aim for with his next swing. 

[mpsehun]

fore - open

Today’s seen a bit of a change. Instead of Sehun’s trusty baseball bat adorning his shoulder, the demigod of Set can be seen walking along with a golf bag, and one lone driver rolling around in it. At the bottom of course are a number of golf balls to keep the driver company, which all get carried up to the roof of one multi-story building. After a few minutes spent in setting up, Sehun’s got a rather relaxed grin on his face as he steadies his stance in front of the golf ball resting on its tee. He’s even dressed the part for this occasion: put on a slightly ketchup-or-maybe-blood-stained stained sweater, a worn looking button up underneath so the collar peaks out the neck of the sweater, and a pair of white golf gloves cover his hands and split-knuckled fingers. All prepared for his practice at his impromptu driving range, Sehun rears back the golf club, the grin still on his face as he tries to picture just where this ball he’s about to send flying might end up. Doming some unsuspecting passerby in the head on the next street over? Maybe pegging a kid’s bicycle so that they’re toppled over onto the asphalt and sent crying to their mommy? Or how about the so very musical prospect of shattering its way through a store full of fragile glassware? Oh, his chaos can only dream that might happen.

[mpsehun]

fruitloops.

[mpsehun]

Han stops making his pancakes for a second, even turning off the fire because the boy’s words really got his attention. What thing? He doesn’t like pancakes? Well, Han is pretty sure that there is something else to serve the younger male. There are eggs, he’s sure, so he could make an omelette or some bacon — he isn’t so sure about the bacon, because he did some sort of american special breakfast for Jongin a while back and he doesn’t remember if they used all the bacon —, there is also bread, he’s sure too, cheese maybe ham. The stranger’s face pinches up and Han does a frown of his own, he doesn’t like pancakes that much that he’s making a face? Well, Han does like pancakes so at least the one he’s making already won’t go to waste.

But then, the taller male keeps talking and Han frowns even more but not because he’s saying how he dislikes pancakes, or anything related to food as a matter of fact. It takes him by surprise — a lot of surprise to be honest — that Han just keeps staring for a moment at the stranger like he has just implied— Well, like he has just implied that him and Jongin has some sort of daddy and mommy roleplay going on and they’re treating now the stranger as their kid and— Well, granted that they’ve discussed about maybe a daddy kink but then none of them really have a daddy face so when they tried to use that in one of their fucks it just ended with both of them laughing their heads off and/or feeling completely awkward before deciding that maybe they should try it with someone else more fitting for the role and so far, Han hasn’t found anyone so the daddy kink is still on hold.

But—

“Oh my god.” It starts with a chuckle but then escalates to a giggle and in no time Han is having a full laughing fit that he’s almost kneeling on his kitchen floor because— “No. Oh dear, no. I— We—” It takes him a few moments for his laughter to die out. “No, alright? We aren’t— We don’t play house for sex, pumpkin.” Han is finally able to say without having to take a few breaks to breath deeply. “I mean, do any of us have a daddy face? I don’t think so. Besides, we’d always ask your consent before trying anything, so don’t worry that there’ll be a prior warning. I really just wanted to know if you want pancakes or anything else for breakfast? I cook for a living so it’s my duty to not let you eat unhealthy bombs of sugar at every bite and actually do eat some real food.”

The laughter aimed at him doesn’t change Sehun’s scrunched expression of distaste any. If anything he’s only looking now like this guy that’s cracking up on the kitchen floor personally disgusts him. Sitting with his long legs splayed and arms crossed of his chest, Sehun looks the very picture of annoyed. To him the idea didn’t seem bizarre at all, because who the hell walks up and starts treating a stranger like this guy’s done so far. Also, pretty guys like this one really weren’t to be trusted, Sehun was always a bit wary around them in any situation that didn’t strictly involve an exchange of favors, considered them manipulative for the most part. Add on the fact that the other can’t keep from using a pet name (pumpkin seriously!?), and still wants to make food for him, and Sehun’s no closer to trusting Han than before. 

“What the fuck is a daddy face?” He blurts out skeptically, not at all understanding what a particular kind of face has to do with sex. You could fuck in positions where you didn’t even have to look at a face after all, hell, blindfolds were totally a thing too. 

Bending one hand up to rub at his forehead as he continues to scowl, he can’t help but to be tempted by real food, even if he’s kind of suspicious about this guy slipping something in his food. . . 

“Can you just, tone it down a little? This whole ‘caring’ thing, its creeping me the fuck out.” 

[mpxjongin-blog]

;tempered glass;

[mpsehun]

Jongin snorts softly at the prospect of working at the Flower Mill, a place that he still finds it horribly amusing for Set to own. “It is a nightmare, but no, I work at his other place,” he offers, but he doesn’t want to be the one to inform the other of his dad running a brothel. He’s already keeping that secret from a few people, and he doesn’t want to be the one to feel the god’s anger if he accidentally lets the truth slip to the wrong person.

He knows that comparisons between children and parents can be a slippery slope - that some of them have stark differences while others are similar; and some are able to see while others refuse to acknowledge. He’s glad that Sehun doesn’t actually argue with him about that fact, though he really couldn’t blame him if he resented such a statement. Jongin is well aware that he’s similar to both of his parents - in different ways, of course, but nonetheless.

At the words of who his father is, he notices a familiar sort of look that comes to Sehun’s face that’s one of intrigue and doubt all at once. Most people tend to have a similar sort of disbelief that surrounds the fact that there is a god related strictly to alcohol, but he’s gotten a bit used to the odd looks and merely shrugs, “What can I say? No wonder being a bartender is normal for me,” he jokes.

However, on noticing Sehun’s demeanor that seems to be needing something - combined with the strange anxiousness he asked about a moment prior - a frown comes to Jongin’s expression. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking a step closer and leaning to see what he’s gesturing to curiously, for once not actually suspecting anything other than the other needing him for something.

He really doesn’t expect any else from Jongin but to do as Sehun motions for him to. Not because he thinks Jongin has a particular care for him or anything, but rather that Jongin just seems the sort not to think before he does shit. Like trusting a completely socially inept stranger just because he seemed a bit vulnerable. 

Maybe its because Jongin’s been nothing but nice though, that Sehun doesn’t totally abuse that easygoing nature by throwing a fist to the other demigod’s stomach. A fight was always the most satisfying when it came to the crawling chaos burning under his skin, but Sehun reigns it in just enough to channel that desire into something else. After all, you could bruise up someone’s mouth, get their heartbeat to pound in their veins, in other ways too. 

Grabbing for Jongin’s shirt collar, Sehun grips it tight in a balled up fist, using the other man’s clothes to rearrange their position. Tugging Jongin around by his shirt, he pushes the other bartender into the brick, and puts himself in the way of Jongin trying to get by. He’d have to physically shove Sehun off, work up some kind of defensive aggression if he wasn’t willing to stay where the taller had put him. The chaos in Sehun’s blood absolutely sings at the prospect of this test, of pushing this young man past his boundaries, pushing him into reacting in a more animalistic way. Sehun’s expression though, that’s still tense, his muscles working against the unintended twitching of one corner of his lips as they try to turn up into a smirk.

“You seem worried,” he says, quietly, only the slightest inflections of amusement creeping into his tone, almost undetectable. “Scared?” 

[hoygyu]

[mpxjongin-blog]

;tempered glass;

[mpsehun]

Some people thought that Jongin was simple with the way he moved about in the world, not minding people’s different traits and even barely minding when they could be cruel. And he knew that perhaps he was simple, but it seemed less stressful than attempting to put forth some manner of facade or trying to make things unnecessarily complicated. In the end, he felt a bit more genuine if he was upfront with people, and he had yet to be proven wrong. Sometimes they could be put off, but he never found it to be any great loss.

Jongin snorted softly in amusement at Sehun’s question. “Some people might take it as, but you can just usually tell which of us aren’t. The gods are usually the owners of businesses, we’re the workers. They don’t usually show up in ratty jeans, either,” he offered a shrug, his tone rather matter of fact about the observations he’d made. While he used to hold a great deal of resentment toward the gods as a whole, that feeling had dimmed.

However, a brow raised a moment later at the information of whose he is. “Oh…yeah, Bastet is cool,” he said, of reference to his ‘cat woman aunt.’ “Seth though…that explains the stand-offish thing if that’s true, no offense,” he added, “I work for the guy elsewhere. He’s…uh, hard to know,” he offered, seeing as Sehun didn’t seem to know much about his godly parent. He didn’t want to explain what that business was or how well he knew Set, but he didn’t see the harm in mentioning it.

He watched Sehun for a moment, taking in the strangely nervous behavior. But before he could mention it, the other spoke and asked of him. “Oh, yeah. My dad is Dionysus. Y’know, the wine and orgies guy?” he offered, not sure how much the other would know mythology in general. As it was, he only knew about the gods he’d met. “Are you okay, Sehun? You seem a little..anxious.”

Tipping his head back against the brick behind him, Sehun lets his skull clunk into the unforgiving surface a bit, trying to subtly knock a little focus back into himself. Stupid of him to think that it would work, seems like the best thing going for him really is this easygoing conversation, as Jongin seems peaceable enough. 

“Shit,” he says on an exhale of his cigarette, a little feeling in the word unlike his earlier tone. “You work at that damn flower place too?” he asks, thinking of course about the ridiculous coffee shop and not of any other unknown occupations his apparent father has. “Place is a nightmare. . .” he adds in a dull mumble. 

A small grunt issues out of Sehun when he’s informed of the similarities between himself and Seth’s dispositions. He sure as hell knew he had inherited a single thing from his mother, maybe that’s part of being a demi god, the god’s genetics or whatever were more adamant about displaying themselves in the kid. 

Where his thoughts and slipping of concentration had him losing focus, the description on Jongin’s own family line of course catches Sehun’s attention. It has him looking over with a quirked brow and an expression that is half ‘you’re shitting me’ and half interest of the sexual variety. There was seriously a god for that though? Well, there was a god for cats, he’d met her, so why the hell not have a god for something Sehun actually liked? (Not the wine so much but he wouldn’t snub his nose at some free cabernet). 

While thinking, his gaze had started drifting to places on Jongin’s body that were not strictly platonic, and the question has his seeping intensity flicker, because that question sounds like its a little too sincere for where Sehun’s own brain is already headed. 

Taking another drag on his cigarette - one that proves not at all satisfying in the way his brain is tempting him to ponder over Jongin’s mouth - he averts his gaze to his shoes as he drops the smoke nearby without putting it out. Now leant over slightly with his shoulder blades hunched against the wall, Sehun can’t seem to do anything for the crawling chaotic temptations that are deciding to be louder than just background whispers in his consciousness. Remaining silent, he motions with a hand gesture for Jongin to come closer to him, as if he were in some sort of need of assistance. 

[mpsehun]

rumble.

[mpsehun]

The sound of movement did not alarm Naoise at all, who focused on getting the toilet paper sufficiently wet, yet not wet enough for it to tear apart. When Arawn’s son turned around, he saw his victim propped up against the bathroom wall. The boy is gazing up at him with a confused look on his face but Naoise simply smiled a little, his own expression not in the least hostile nor did it give away that he had been the one to sock the boy in the face mere minutes before.

Naoise shuffled a bit to the boy’s side, got onto his haunches and reached up to dab the cold, wet paper against the ugly bruise decorating the other boy’s temple and eye. His eye had swollen to the extent that his eyelid was halfway shut, even when the other had his eyes open. Somehow Naoise thought it was a funny sight and white teeth sunk into cushioned lips to keep himself from giggling - as he would have done, despite his gender. The Irish boy was careful, making sure to soothe the skin and yet not press too hard to inflict more pain onto the other.

“That was quite a fight you caused in there” Naoise hummed, a soft tenor voice - yet manlier than Naoise appearance might have indicated - greeted the troublemaker’s ears. The dark-haired boy retracted his hand to look into the other boy’s eyes, an eyebrow raised. “It hurt my ears” he stated, not realising his words may sound confusing to the beaten down boy. Naoise reached out to dab at the other’s temple once more. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

There’s not a wince or grimace of pain from Sehun, as he’s quite used to hosting an array of injuries on his body, the one to his head that’s being dabbed at now not the worst he’s received by far. He doesn’t take his eyes off of the person who is apparently one of those good samaritans and is looking after him now. There is of course suspicion running through Sehun, because who the hell was nice to the person that started fights? There were girls sometimes that picked up this kind of role of course, and Sehun was fine with taking what they were willing to give if he felt up to it, but he's never been too good at reading people, so he can’t decipher if this man is looking for that sort of thing too. All Sehun can think is that this guy has got to be a little insane, but a lot of people were so. . . whatever. 

Sehun doesn’t answer the question of being hurt anywhere else, he just keeps staring at the other with his features set without expression. To be honest he doesn’t really care if he is hurt. The plan is always the same after he lets the chaos get the better of him: go home, have a beer, and sleep it off. If this guy wants to play doctor and come home with him then Sehun wouldn’t be opposed though. Making softer looking people give up a more primal expression was always something of a thrill for Sehun. Reaching up to grasp the other’s wrist, Sehun stops them from dabbing at his temple, but not out of anger for the action, just for an explanation. He continues to hold onto their wrist without breaking eye contact, wanting them to reveal what’s their purpose in this. 

[mpxkibum]

feline tendencies | kibum & sehun

[mpsehun]

Kibum crossed his arms over his chest as he regarded the boy over the bar, his cat-like eyes shifting under the poor fluorescent lighting. It was always a shame, to him at least, when attractive people had unattractive personalities. It was a waste, it brought down everything else about them, and in his drunken logic, that was what seemed to be happening to the boy in front of him.

“And here I thought that your job was to just serve drinks. Lucky me, I guess baby sitter is in your job description as well,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

If Kibum were to be honest with himself, he would admit that he was in a bad mood. Between a cheating boyfriend and an overbearing almost parent that he was becoming increasingly concerned about, it was inevitable that someone would end up on the other side of his catty mood.

A corner of his lip curls upwards, an unintentional grimace to his sneer that looks more threat than simple disdain. Despite seeming to be stoic so often, Sehun’s in fact no expert on schooling himself in reactions. He’s never had a head for acting, and his inability to filter himself shows throw clearly now as the other’s attitude tugs at the underlying chaos that’s always dancing under the demigod’s skin. 

After a moment of tension though, Sehun’s able to collect himself well enough to drop his slight snarl for the drunk patron, and push himself to another end of the bar he’s working to make drinks for a group of girls instead. People did not come to this place to brood alone, and the fact that this dumbass he’d just been talking to was sitting at the bar still, apparently now in rebellion for Sehun’s own demeanor, well that agitated the son of Set something fierce. Its obvious just how much the guy’s presence is prickling him, setting his shoulders all tense and his spine rigid. Trying his best to ignore him as the customers lull out for a minute, Sehun just hopes the idiot will get bored of watching Sehun clean up behind the bar, and not attempt to order another drink. 

[mpsehun]

fruitloops.

[mpsehun]

Han is already over the phase that he gets surprised or bothered by the suspicious noises that come from Jongin’s rooms most of the nights, being already used to them enough that they aren’t the reason — or one of the main reasons — he has a little of a hard time trying to fall asleep. That doesn’t mean, however, that he doesn’t worry about his friend and rommate and is a little uneasy when he comes home and they are already locked inside Jongin’s room and he hasn’t even had the chance to warn whoever is there with him to play nice — because Han is one of the best people to find assholes to sleep with and Jongin is a little too careless about who he picks and Han isn’t really jealous or anything, he’s just really protective of his friend like he’s with pretty much anyone that is close to him ( which is most people he knows when he stops to think about it ) —, but it’s not like rolling around on his bed and worrying about it would change anything so eventually Han just lets it go and decides that in the morning he’d deal with them.

Morning comes and Han doesn’t forget about the stranger in their apartment, getting up a little earlier than he really needs since he’s only going to the restaurant in the afternoon and going as soon as possible to the kitchen to make breakfast for the three of them — two actually, he realizes a little later and makes a little mental reminder to scold him later for leaving again without eating anything but also to make a little more for his lunch because he’s sure Jongin will need it — when he sees the stranger in their kitchen eating one of those cereals that are more sugar than anything. Han can’t help but make a little face, but still pets the apparently younger demigod’s hair when he’s close enough and even kisses the top of his head just the slightest in a gesture of good morning.

“Morning.” He also greets and his voice is still a little slurred from sleep. “Jongin has already left, hasn’t he?” Han lets out an exasperated sigh, not really needing to know the answer and then starts going around, taking the batter and frypan to do pancakes because he still has to find someone who doesn’t like pancakes. “I’m making some pancakes, you know, so you don’t have to keep eating—” He stops everything he’s doing for a moment to turn to the younger male’s direction and gesture at the sugar and milk in the stranger’s bowl. “That. Sorry about that, actually, I’m trying to improve his taste in cereal.” Han wrinkles his nose before resuming his cooking. “Any special request for your pancakes by the way? Just checking because there are some weird people that likes, I don’t know, gold powder in their pancakes or whatever — and if you for any chance is one of those people, I’m sorry we don’t have gold powder but we might still have chocolate syrup somewhere.”

The affectionate (fucking motherly really) greeting that’s bestowed upon Sehun gets the demigod jerking his head away once he realizes its happening. Of course, that’s a little slower than usual thanks to the early hour, and Sehun is not a morning person. Chaos seems to prefer the night, and like it, so does Sehun. But even drowsy and satisfied as he is this morning, that little pet and kiss to the top of his head isn’t allowed with a scrutinizing squint in return. He might not be a stranger to kissing, but this kind of soft affection? Now that’s a foreign concept. 

His expression that is all ‘judging brows’ and ‘wtf frown’ doesn’t let up, not even while he chews slowly on his lucky charms like he’s trying to figure if it will help him suss out this apparent housemate’s behavior. Finally deciding that the sugar isn’t going to help his thinking process, the son of Set lets his spoon drop into the bowl, pushing it further away on the table like he’s fed up with it too. 

“Look-” his voice is fairly soft when he speaks, but not because he’s feeling bad about what he’s going to say, more that talking in general isn’t his forte. “I don’t know what you’re into, but I, I don’t do this kind of thing.” 

Feeling the need to clarify further when the pretty-boy guy looks over at him all innocent, Sehun gestures vaguely between the pancakes the guy himself, his own face pinched like the thought alone of what he’s explaining is physically hurting him. 

“I get that people are into some weird shit, but if you and Jongin expect me to play along with whatever daddy stuff you two got going on in this apartment, then I’m just gonna get lost.” 

While he’s not sure about his assumptions being right, the idea of it seems to be fitting further and further into place, and he’s thoroughly against the idea of being anyone’s little. Christ, that’s almost got him shivering in repulsion. 

[mpsehun]

The boy’s question was not one she liked to be ask. “ Child, that isn’t a smart question to ask me. Do you really want to have an angry goddess against you? I don’t think you do, but ask one more question about my age and you will. ”

Sehun only looks more perturbed by her answer, his brow wrinkling up as he attempts to figure how exactly this is supposed to make sense to him. The fact that she continues to call him ‘child’ is also something he’s not really into.

“I thought gods were immortal? So what the fuck does a number like age have to do with anything?”

His words are spoken in a crass manner. Bcause Oh Sehun is a bad boy, and all that jazz, so he doesn’t do manners.

[mpxkibum]

“ go home ”

“How about you mind your business?” Kibum bristled as he turned to look at the boy, his arms crossed over his chest. Something about the boy reminded him of Hyuk, maybe it was the same faux tough guy act, maybe it was something else entirely. But he knew that he hated Hyuk, so he wasn’t fond of this boy either. Besides, nobody told Kibum what to do.

“Last I checked, I was an adult who could drink as much as they wanted,” he said before flopping back down on his bar stool. Truthfully, he was going to stop and go home. But now he couldn’t, he had a point to prove.

[mpsehun]

The bristling (how very cat like) reply has him leaning back away from the bar, a slight sneer on his expression as he continues to scowl lightly at the guy in distaste. He doesn’t interrupt of course, that’s not like Sehun at all (he’d not even interrupted the talkative drinker’s earlier tirades), so he hears out the other man’s rather immature reasoning before he states his own back. 

“Yeah. Adults can get pissed if they want. But you? You just annoy me, so you should go home.” 

One immature reply for another it seems this evening. 

[mpsehun]

failure to launch. (tae + hun)

[mpsehun]

This was so disappointing.

Taehyung was fucking wasted and making out with some dude he’d met in the club and the guy was totally not into it right now. Despite all the ass grabbing and tongue on tongue action, the boy looked bored as hell.

A strong grind elicited a moan out of him, his brain feeling light like he was at a high altitude. He pushed off though, nearly falling. “Hey.” he slurred a bit, narrowing his eyes. “Why do you look so fucking bored?”

He was pissed. Dudes tipped him over 1,000 a night just to watch him dance on camera yet this guy was acting like he was another boring one nigh stand. “You keep acting bored and you won’t be able to take advantage of my throat which has barely any gag reflex, by the way.” he snapped, pointing at the dude with a stern finger.  

“It must be you because it’s certainly not me.” he said, hands automatically going to his hips.

Sehun’s understands that being sober around drunk people was an absolutely ridiculous endeavor, and yet he also has figured out that two drunk people have a really hard time communicating effectively. Already shitty when it came to communication, plying himself with liquor didn’t seem to suddenly spring forth a far more verbose version of himself. Usually, it only heightened his physicality, and did little to open up any doors that acted as inhibitors of speech. Tonight’s no exception, and like many times when he’s caught up in a disagreement, he’s stuck listening to someone equally as drunk as he blather in their unique intoxicated slur. 

At least the guy can capture Sehun’s attention long enough for the taller to get a lengthy stare of that mouth. Still though, his grip looses considerably as the other talks, and Sehun’s interests just aren’t with him tonight. Its rather unsettling for the young man though, because he’s fucked with people of all kinds without issue in the past. What was so off about this evening? Even when he’s been too wasted to perform, he’s still wanted it, right up until he blacked out. Yet for as disconcerting as it is, Sehun can’t help but to eye the other skeptically (if drunkenly) when he claims this failed rendezvous is entirely on Sehun. Now that sounds like a challenge. 

Drunken gaze narrowing, Sehun lifts one hand to cup it around the other male’s jaw, pressing his thumb against the shorter’s lips. It might seem like Sehun’s checking out what the man’s words are trying to support about a talent for oral, but its mostly a way of sending a message for the other to shut up. Its far too easy for Sehun to flip from whatever semi-amiable mood he’s in, to over the top aggression, and if this guy says much more, it could result in that. 

“Conceited much? You didn’t think that maybe its just that you’re boring?” Sehun asks, as if he’s not thoroughly arrogant a being himself at times. 

Frowning, he drops his hand away from the other’s face. 

“I don’t like talking,” he means to add on ‘with you’, or ‘with people in clubs’ but the fact is its kinda true as it stands anyways. “But usually I’d fuck you anyways,” he says, confusion shifting into his features as he tries to suss out what’s got him lacking in the usual urge tonight. 

[mpsehun]

"don't leave."

He’s just started to remove himself from the small knoll of grass, not yet wet with the dew that settles during the early morning hours. It was a clear night, no moon, the kind where you could spot a few stars even despite the city’s gleaming lights, and Sehun had settled in the park, near enough to the small lake to toss pebbles into its still waters. 

With the ducks sleeping, and the park empty besides himself, Sehun had taken this spot with a thought he’d not disturb anyone that night. But it seems that he had been wrong about his presence going unnoticed, because another sleepless individual appears near to him, making Sehun assume he’d taken a spot she commonly used. Making to stand and leave the space to her, its then that she speaks, a apology in her tone for having disturbed him. Unsure, he doesn’t immediately settle back down upon the grass, not until she attempts to reassure him with a small smile, one that allows I’m to recognize the face of someone he’d met briefly before. Gesturing quietly, he indicates that the space is open for her, the one introduced to him before as his cousin, to sit as well.

“Its not just my park, so…” A slight shrug is given with his words, his gaze moving away, back towards the sky, so as not to intimidate the other demigod. Sehun’s chaotic tendencies were quieter tonight, far less turbulent than they’d been in a long while, which left him feeling both unburdened, and yet strangely untethered, as if he was a bit lost from himself without the familiar desires tugging at him. It left him wondering if this is who he would have been, had he no blood of a god in his veins. 

[z1bhh]

[mpxjongin-blog]

;tempered glass;

[mpsehun]

It wasn’t as though Jongin had anything in particular against people who weren’t as friendly as he was. After all, he knew that being the same sort of outgoing he was really wasn’t that common, and had more been something he’d been born into having than anything. From a very young age he’d been introduced to the public and was expected to appear at his mother’s side and be photographed. So it was sort of expected that he would be comfortable around people.

But he knew that others certainly weren’t the same way, and he didn’t expect any such thing. So Sehun’s standoffish behavior didn’t really bother him. “Nice meeting you,” Jongin let out a little laugh, more amused at his deadpan behavior than anything. “Ah, that explains it. I promise, you get used to everyone trying to talk your ass off. And I mean you never really get super used to the groping, but don’t let it bother you too much,” he shrugged. Far too many of the patrons were rather lecherous in nature, and while Jongin had more or less gotten over it a while ago - what with Babylon as well - but he figured he should at least mention it.

At the question of stepping out, Jongin shrugged. “Nah, it’s pretty chill, dude,” he said, gesturing for Sehun to go with him and out the door in the back. There was a little bit of a breeze that crept by them, not much by way of relief, but Jongin was just glad for the fresh air. “So who’s kid are you?” he asked, “No offense, but you don’t seem like the god type.” There was a playful little smile at the words. “I don’t actually smoke, it ages you. But whatever, I needed the break,” he admitted. Not necessarily a lot of what his mother told him had set in, but relating to his appearance he was often a little more willing to listen.

Nice meeting him? Sehun does glance at Jongin then, a perplexed expression on his generally stoic face as the other employee lets out another of those little laughs. Was the guy being serious? Probably not. He probably considered that some sort of joke, because Sehun can’t honestly recall someone honestly considering it nice to meet him. He’d be more worried for Jongin’s sensibility if he thought the guy was genuinely happy about being acquainted. Then again, since Jongin doesn’t take the first chance to avoid Sehun, and instead joins him outside for a smoke, well. . . 

Still though, its hard to think his coworker thick in the skull or oblivious when the rest of his conversation isn’t full of inane comments. Seemed like the guy was just that easygoing, what with having accepted unwanted groping. Nobody had actually dared to paw Sehun anywhere below the belt tonight, so that was certainly a shared experience he wasn’t going to look forward to. 

Taking a cigarette from his rolled up shirtsleeve, Sehun retrieves a lighter from his pocket to get his break off right. Its just gotten in the first exhale and slipped the lighter back into his jeans when asked about his parent’s identity. Crossing his ankles as he leans back against the building, he continues to stray his gaze away from the other demigod, because when he’s feeling pent up like this, fixation often sets in. 

“Should that be offensive? Is that an insult around here? Being told you don’t match up to some god status?” he asks, curious but not likely to be injured by anyone telling him such a thing anyways. “Supposedly, I’m this Seth’s kid. Cat Woman who claimed to be my aunt told me so. Don’t know how reliable that is though.”

Still avoiding looking directly at Jongin, Sehun does silently offer the guy a smoke, feeling like the other’s presence would definitely be tolerable in a time he wasn’t thinking he should be alone. He simply shrugs when the other doesn’t have in interest in sharing the habit, though the bit about being aged has Sehun glancing at the other demigod’s face again to see if he looks old or something. Which turns out to be not the case at all. Taking another drag of his cigarette that doesn’t seem to be mellowing him out much, in fact, the hand that’s holding the cigarette to his lips is even starting to tremble a little, Sehun attempts to distract himself in the way most people do when they talk to others. 

“I’m assuming you have a godly parent too? Or did I already guess wrong?” he asks, already feeling like conversation as a form of distraction is a manginess endeavor for him.

[mpsehun]

rumble.

[mpsehun]

At first the noise was dimmed, mere angry whispers and some shuffling of feet and sturdy bodies. Naoise was sitting in a booth close to the door, sipping his cola through a coloured straw. His hands were placed neatly on his lap and he was appreciating the wallpaper on the bar’s walls, which was decorated with elegant swirls and ancient symbols, giving off a vintage vibe. Naoise had been intrigued by it for the better part of a half an hour during which the noises in the centre of the bar had become louder and louder.

The green-eyed boy winced, sliding his lips from the straw and finally diverted his gaze, turning his head towards the sounds. Naoise’s ears were extremely sensitive, which was mostly due to his powers. The noise from a bar fight would definitely disturb the young son of Arawn, and as Naoise’s gaze fell upon the scene, annoyance started bubbling inside of him. In the middle of the bar, some punk was fighting with several patrons, who appeared to be on the same side as they tried to pack punches. The bartender himself was freaking out behind the counter, reaching for a phone as his only solution to the problem when more patrons fell, injured by one demigod who stood at the centre of it all.

Sighing softly, Naoise took another large sip of his cola before his right hand reached out for his messenger bag as he slid out of the comfortable booth. Deep green eyes kept staring intently at the fight unfolding before him, and he noticed the demigod try to choke the life out of another lesser demigod with a baseball bat. It was distasteful, even to Naoise. The boy hoisted his bag over his head, onto his shoulder, before pushing his bag onto his hip. All the while he was adjusting his bag, his dark hair slowly changed colour. First the top of his head, and then the blood red colour seeped down, tainting the dark locks until they had painted even the tips and Naoise had turned into a redhead.

Green eyes flashed darkly, as the sneakers he wore on his feet brought him closer to the fight. Naoise stretched his right hand before he balled it into a fist, his knuckles cracking ever so softly. Naoise’s gaze was fixed on that loathsome grin on the boy’s face, who was enjoying the fight more than he should. Naoise wondered whose kid he was, and while part of him also enjoyed darkness and chaos, being disturbed from a peaceful drink and having his ears ring due to the noise, was making Naoise agitated, and angry.

Some patrons who had been ready to join the fight noticed the dark aura emitted from the geeky, seemingly innocent boy and had cleared the path before Naoise could get to them. Even the victim of the bully, his face now purple due to lack of air, had widened his eyes as if he knew destruction or salvation was on its way. Thankfully for the victim, Naoise had the destruction of the bully in mind. Before the demigod with the baseball bat could even flinch or turn his head towards Naoise, the redhead had swung his fist backwards and swung it against the other boy’s temple.

Naoise could have killed the other, he was aware of that, but demigods did not die so easily and when the baseball bat dropped dramatically to the floor with a heavy clang, and the thud of a body followed, the son of Arawn felt pleased. The purple-faced guy gasped for breath, dropping to the floor in relief. The bar turned silent and Naoise sighed happily, his ears finally finding relief in the comfortable silence which followed the brawl. Glancing over at the shocked bartender, Naoise sent him a cute smile and shook his head. No need for police or anything to show up.

Lowering his gaze, Naoise tilted his head as he looked at the instigator of the fight, now completely knocked out. Naoise saw the beginnings of a large bruise next to the boy’s right eye. Feeling a little sorry for the victim of his temporary wrath, Naoise stepped over the boy before he leaned down to grab his arms. Without much further ado, the son of Arawn started dragging the son of Set towards the back of the bar, where a friendly patron helped Naoise open the door to the men’s restroom. Once inside, Naoise inelegantly dropped the boy’s arms to the floor before shuffling to get some toilet paper.

Having the time of his life, like he does with just about every spontaneous brawl, Sehun certainly doesn’t have a care to notice the incoming threat. Not when he would welcome any opponent that wanted to take him on. Not at all fearful of physical pain, the sensation often only driving him to higher levels of chaotic intent, Sehun wouldn’t be afraid to take a dizzying blow to the head if it meant someone that could actually fight him well. Thing is, he’s not too used to fighting other demigods yet, and doesn’t realize that there are some who could honestly kill him in one fell swoop. 

Or one hit KO him too. 

---

Coming back to consciousness is a familiar feeling for the son of Seth, so there’s no panic rattling his psyche as he takes in the soundings. Often, he’ll be right at the scene of the fight when he’s knocked out like this, where he just has to pull his beaten body off the ground and make his way home. But sometimes he’ll wake up in a foreign location, though a less than pristine bathroom isn’t a particularly common setting. 

Hearing the sound of running water, Sehun scoots his body a little to prop himself against the cold tile wall next to the sink (luckily not next to the urinal). Just next to him he only now notices a pair of legs, and follows those legs upwards to a face he can only see in partial profile, mainly just a chin and a nose at that from his angle. It appears to be a guy his age though, and Sehun only begins to connect this person with himself when he realizes the guy is standing in front of him with some paper dampened by the sink’s water. He’s glad he woke up earlier enough to register that, and not assume it was just dunked in the toilet bowl instead. 

Squinting at the guy in confusion, Sehun feels a sharp throbbing from the side of his head, but mainly ignores it as he feels awake enough not to be dying. Which makes total sense of course. At least his constant itch for chaos seems to be settled for now.