aaaaa omg you’re back! i was literally just reading your comfort fics last night and today you appeared with a teaser (╥﹏╥) i really loved overprotective and i love coraline (just finished reading the teaser) so i’m very excited for this new fic! welcome back, i hope you’re doing well 🫶🏻
thank you for the support :D ive had a lot going on so i couldn't keep up with updating :') but i have a lot of wips that i'm hoping to release! im glad you liked the teaser! :D
SYNOPSIS── ｡𖦹°‧ the mysterious door in your house is calling to you
( .✧˚ ) — genre coraline au fantasy horror wc 2.6k warnings dark themes reader kinda not smart gaslighting a/n just a teaser for a oneshot ive been working on for ages because i feel so bad for neglecting you all ;') reblog & comment
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“what’s this door ?”
after about an hour of talking about literally anything and counting all the walls and windows and mirrors and anything in the house, niki notices a door behind the wallpaper. he runs his fingers over it gently, feeling around it.
“woah” y/n joins him in front of the door, “i’ve never seen this before” she looks at it in awe, and niki figures it’s the most exciting thing she’s seen since she moved here.
“let’s open it” y/n smiles widely, yelling for her mom and finally stopping when she’s met with a loud groan coming from the kitchen. the footsteps are loud enough to make the house shake and her mother appears in the doorway fuming with smoke wafting off the top of her head (according to niki).
“if i do this, will you please stop bugging me ?” y/n nods fast and the smile on her face glows brighter and brighter as she listens for the sound of her mom looking for the key, but the light in her eyes fades fast as her mother opens the door only to reveal a brick wall.
“what the fuck ?”
“watch your mouth. they probably closed it off when they separated the house”
“that’s such bullshit. why not just take the door out ?” she huffs and collapses to the floor.
“we had a deal, so zip it and watch your mouth !” niki looks down at the girl with a frustrated frown etched on her face as she huffs and groans in the agony of boredom.
“cheer up, shorty. there’s gotta be something else we can do”
before y/n goes to sleep that night, she sets up a doll niki and her found in the attic of his grandma’s house, a doll that looks exactly like her. at first, y/n had thought that niki’s grandmother had made this doll for her, only to be told that his grandmother doesn’t make dolls.
“goodnight, little me” she kissed the doll atop its tiny head before shuffling under the covers, but right before she drifts away into sleep, she hears a soft squeak coming from under her bed.
her eyes flutter open. she throws her head over the edge of the bed to see a mouse dancing under her bed before it scurries off through the door, and of course she follows suit. she’s bouncing down the stairs with swiftness as she’s determined to not lose the furry friend.
it stops at the little door, the door she’s sure she closed tightly but is sitting before her, cracked open. the mouse runs through the door, the door y/n is so sure is nothing but a brick wall but how could the mouse go through the door if there was nothing on the other side ?
slowly, she opens the door, only to reveal and long soft glowing tunnel, one that resembles those of the foldable playhouses she had as a child. on the other side is a door glowing with warmth, so warm it thaws the ice around her curiosity with ease. y/n has always been nosy, this she cannot deny, and when the door on the other side is almost calling to her, wrapping her in allure and pulling her in, she barely registers that her palms have already made contact with the tunnel. the tunnel looks like felt, like a blanket, but it feels warm. warm in a way a cat is warm when u pat its tummy. warm and alive. and had the curiosity burning inside her not burned her common sense to a crisp, she might’ve cared. she might’ve turned around and left.
but she didn’t.
she crawls forward in a trance. she can’t stop. her legs and arms move on their own she can’t stop. the door open on its own and she stands…
in the same room as before ?
why, this doesn’t make any sense, she just left this room. but something’s different. the boxes are all gone as well as the pictures of her and her family. instead, they’ve been replaced with pictures of just her. her in pretty dresses, in flower fields, on dates, and holding hands with the person behind the camera.
her head snaps up when she hears the sound of a boy singing and the smell of delicious food, food she’s been craving as she hasn’t had dinner.
when she gets to the kitchen though, neither of her parents are there. it’s a man with broad shoulders and black hair standing over the kitchen counter wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. he’s not freakishly tall like niki is, but still tall enough that he probably towers over her. she approaches him slowly.
“hello ?” finally, he turns around at the sound of her voice. the man is pretty. he looks about her age. there’s a mole on the left side of his chin (well, right if you look at it from his perspective) and his jawline is strong. his cheeks are full and rosy and as he smiles at her she can see the deep dimples on his face. his eyes are big and wide and resemble those of a cat (according to y/n), but the one thing off about him is that instead of regular eyes, they’re completely black. as though his eyes were the gateway to an abyss. she gulps and jumps back a little.
“y/n, my love ! i’ve been waiting for you, you’re just in time for dinner !” y/n can’t help but be taken aback. she doesn’t know what she expected when she walked through the little door, but it was certainly not some parallel universe, and certainly not some other worldly demon boy calling her his love.
“what’s going on… who the hell are you ?” she questions him immediately, only to be met with a chuckle as he approaches her with open arms. she does her best to stay still and not run.
“what are you talking about, darling ? it’s me, jungwon” she looks at him quizzically as he wraps his warm and welcoming arms around her. she’s never met a jungwon, not once in her entire life.
“your boyfriend ?” he laughs and kisses her temple and she can’t help but melt a bit in his arms, “you’re so silly”
y/n almost forgets how off the situation is, willing to stay in jungwon’s arms and pretend she knows what the hell he’s talking about, until she registers that there is a man in her kitchen with no irises or pupils or anything not even eye whites claiming to be her boyfriend and implying that they’ve been dating for a while and she should remember.
“i don’t recall ever having a boyfriend” he scoffs as if she’s playing some sort of joke on him
...
he sets the box on her lap and opens it, revealing a pair of new shoes she’s had her eyes on for quite some time.
“i know you’ve been wanting them for awhile” he kisses her cheeks as she stares at the box in awe. she doesn’t quite register what she’s doing before she up on her feet and throwing her arms around jungwon, chanting out a string of thank yous and compliments. he holds onto her waist with his arm.
“no need to thank me, darling. i’m happy to do whatever i can for you. now come, it’s time you get to bed” y/n groans out and stomps her foot.
“why ? it’s not even that late. i wanna stay up with you guys”
“uh uh uh, angels like you need their beauty sleep. come on” she’s about to protest, but her complaints get caught up in her throat and a gasp comes out instead as jungwon picks her up with ease and makes his way towards the staircase, sunoo following right behind him.
her room does not look like her own. its got the same basic elements, but its much more livelier. the colors are bright, the floor shines, and the stuffed animals she’s kept over the years talk to her. her bed feels softer than usual, like a cloud.
“give me your hand, sweetheart” he says. she complies immediately, and notices the rash she had almost completely forgotten about. he applies a soothing cream onto her hand and kisses her forehead. at this, y/n’s eyes flutter shut as she drifts away into sleep. jungwon brings the blanket over her.
“see you soon, my angel”
“y/n, wake the hell up.”
y/n groans at the voice above her and the weight crushing her that she has suddenly woken up to.
“how the fuck did you get in my house ?”
“your, mom let me in, dipshit” niki continues to rattle her in an attempt to keep her eyes from falling shut again. y/n groans and tries to turn but the boy on top of her is preventing her from doing so. when niki finally gets up, he’s taking her with him. she squeals before falling against the soft cotton of his hoodie. she pushed him backwards in a huff before looking towards the trunk next to her bed.
the doll sits limply, but it’s eyes bore into her soul attentively and intentively. do the buttons on her eyes look like sunoo’s ? well, they are just like any other buttons. perhaps that’s why she dreamt of them ?
“did your mom give you ointment for the poison oak ?” niki loosely gestures to her hand. she takes a gander at it, the smooth soft skin that once shined in red has now returned to its natural state.
then it couldn’t have been a dream.
“do we have to go upstairs ? sunghoon is a fucking weirdo”
“well i have to give him his mail”
the steps creak under their feet as the flimsy built on stairs shake in an effort to support both of them. when they final reach the top, y/n remembers to count her blessings and thank god for not letting them fall right off the side of the building.
pang pang pang
she knocks, but no one answers.
“hello…sunghoon ? i have your mail”
“i’m up here” and as she looks up she locks eyes with a boy hanging upside down off the side of the roof. his blond hair giving a sunny feel to this gloomy day.
“do you really need 3 bags of mice food ?” niki asks before y/n can process what’s happening. ‘have i always been surrounded by good looking men ?’
“how else would i feed the mice ?”
‘so the mice are his personal mice ?’
he jumps down from the roof and picks up the bags with haste. then, he glares down at the girl before him accusingly.
“you trying to get rid of them ?” her eyes widen in shock at the sudden question.
“oh- well- no, i mean- i don’t really mind them, so…” her voice trails off in embarrassment as she looks down at her hands and plays with her fingers. her right foot propped up and twisting against the platform as she gulps. she hears sunghoon let out a grunt in approval and walk away, slamming the door shut behind him. she huffs in relief.
but before she can even full turn away, the door swings open once again with a bored looking sunghoon staring at y/n dead on.
“the mice say don’t go through the little door or whatever” nonchalantly, the words roll of his tongue and into her ears, unbeknownst to the havoc he has wreaked on her mind. when his words reach her brain, she’s on high alert, his nonchalant words causing a panic in her system, and before she can begin to question him, sunghoon is retreating into his cave.
heeseung tries to put on a brave face but he’s terrified. nonetheless, he steps forward, his dagger clutched tightly in his right hand. he got it from some farmers market just cause it was cool, not thinking he’d ever use it, but here he is.
he usually keeps it tucked and readily available in his back right pocket just in case. he’s got it, he might as well keep it on him.
he stands at the forefront of the group, standing tall and proud as he blocks everyone else off. he can here niki crying and sniffling behind him, which fuels his sense of duty. he swallows thickly as he walks towards the side of the house.
he creeps up slowly around the corner when suddenly a figure rushes towards them. he draws his blade up, pointed in front of him in a threatening manner as everyone screams in fear.
“jay ? what the fuck are you doing here ?”
jay heaves and fans himself with his shirt, the shock of running into the group and being held at knife point taking a toll on his stability.
“i got out of class early . . . so . . . i-“ he holds his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. he sighs as he raises himself up again.
“i came over and i heard niki scream so i went to go see what was wrong then you all popped out of nowhere” heeseung throws his arms down, exasperated, the high from the adrenaline coming down exponentially.
“why the fuck did you come in through the back, dude” he runs his cold fingers through his hair. he stares at jay in utter disbelief doesn’t he recognize the political climate of the time?
“well. . . i mean, i just didn’t think it’d be a big deal. i’m over here all the time man, i don’t always knock.
heeseung lets out a huff. it’s true, jay does indeed come into his house through the backyard sometimes, but that’s only when heeseung knows he’s coming over. jay’s not really audacious enough to sneak into heeseung’s house uninvited in such a manner, but heeseung doesn’t have time to think about this when niki is pulling at his sleeve and using him as a shield.
above all else, he needs to make sure the boy is okay.
heeseung pats niki’s head and leads him inside, jay following right behind them. he can hear jake interrogating him, but that’s not his problem anymore.
SYNOPSIS── ｡𖦹°‧ when you’re at your wits end and you pray to fall, maybe he will save you
( .✧˚ ) — genre comfort post fantasy angst with some fluff wc 1.1k warnings angst, HEAVY themes of depression and suicidal ideation, deep rooted feelings of worthlessness please proceed with caution, and know that you are loved reblog & comment
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life is hard for you.
perhaps, but you keep on pushing. not because you want to, but because there’s no other choice. because you wake up in the morning, and your lungs and heart work just fine. every single day, without fail. a lot of people would call that an accomplishment. you? not so much.
you’d call it forced obligation.
you didn’t sign up for this duty, but your name is in the work schedule and you’ve been assigned all the tasks and projects, so what other choice do you have? though it seems unfair—not like you asked to be born—you’ve got to make ends meet.
a lot of people call you strong. you’re a fighter. you wouldn’t say that much. you’re far from strong, that’s what makes life so difficult. you’ve got the resolve of thin glass, it doesn’t take much for you to shatter.
“but you’ve come so far!”
maybe.
maybe it seems that way when you’ve been miserable since you were 8. in actuality, though, you haven’t gotten far at all. you haven’t done much of anything, really. participation trophies only get you so far, you’re only scraping by in this game you were forced to play whilst everyone else is making their own playbook.
there’s not much you like about yourself, not much to your name, not much to you.
you just know that you’re sad and you wish it would stop.
it’s a different kind of all consuming, the rage that burns deep inside of you. no matter how hard you try to subdue it, its embers still burn bright, and they latch onto your misfortunes and set them ablaze.
it’s a different kind of rage you feel when you realize the world is cruel.
sure, the world is cruel to everybody…but if you received the same cruelty as everyone else, you’d be normal wouldn’t you? but you’re not. you’ve gone through thick and thin, fought hard and endlessly (against your will!) enough for your brain to have so many survival mechanisms that you have to get them separately diagnosed by a psychiatrist and you can’t help but think “why”?
‘what did I do?’
they call it self pity. you call it demanding justice.
you tell yourself the quality in life you lack that others have, you make up for in something they don’t, but it just seems like that isn’t true
because if it was, everyone would be just as miserable as you are.
and people will tell you that you never know what someone could be going through, but you know the average person isn’t going through….
this.
this pain you can barely live through. this heavy weight that suffocates you to the brink of death, and you just wish death would be so kind as to spare you, but you have just enough air to keep breathing.
yea, we all have our demons, and you have 500.
but there’s no point in complaining. your heart and lungs work just fine. to your dismay, you will be awake tomorrow morning. so, you shut your eyes and move on like you have done countless times before.
but then you hear twinkles.
that’s odd. usually when you’re fantasizing about your demise, you don’t hear anything, but there’s something making noise….
there’s something in your room.
you sit for 3 minutes in fear before jolting up, phone raised as some sad excuse for a weapon. the thing—person— in your room jolts too. a gasp emerging from his throat in exchange for the scream he almost lets out.
“fuck…you scared the shit out of me”
you look at the man incredulously…is he being fucking serious?
“I scared the shit out of You??”
your screams are surpressed by your very own whispers, but he hears your message loud and clear. he blushes and laughs awkwardly, his hand clinging to the back of his head as a grounding technique—you would know; you have a habit of clutching the ends of your hair for the same reason.
“okay, fair enough-“ he’s then distracted by the lights on your bookshelf…okay…he fiddles with them like a child playing with toys on christmas morning and he tells you fun facts about lights
“…yea, that’s why they don’t make easy-bake ovens anymore. so sad”
“but why the fuck are you here?”
he makes a face that tells you he forgot why he was initially here in the first place, but your brazen reminder sparks his memory.
“i’m here to make your wishes come true! i’m jungwon. pleasure to meet you!” he reaches his hand out for a shake, but you, shocked by his strange behavior, sit puzzled. he pulls his hand back bashfully, coughing and laughing, sucking air through his teeth and looking at the floor
“okayy, no handshakes, got it…”
you simply stare at him, you have never been more confused in your life.
“okay, let me explain,”
‘finally’
“sometimes, when humans feel very intense emotions, they form tight bonds with a star. this is because the make up of your soul is deeply connected to universe, and humans naturally attract stardust, but not everyone can form bonds. humanity is precious to most beings in the world, and whenever humans form bonds to stars, they begin to take on human principles and physical forms. this is how fairies are made-“ he’s about to keep explaining, but he can see from the way your eyebrows are furrowed and your upper lip is quirked in disgust that you are more than confused and lost. instead, he picks up your hand, and places it on his chest.
you don’t physically feel his heartbeat, but you do feel it.
you feel the stardust flowing through him in a way only you could understand. you can feel the deepest levels of yourself within him. he holds everything you love, everything you hate, all your dreams, all your secrets, they all swim around within him.
he looks you deep in the eyes, where you see fragments twinkle. you see hope that you had lost, love you never thought you deserved, but most importantly, you see better.
the better everyone talks about. the better you have been waiting so long to see, after countless times being told to hang in because it gets better, after already coming to terms with the fact that better will never come fo you, here he is
and he giggles,
“hi”
“hi…” you say it back. you feel he deserves the long overdue greeting. you’ve…created a fairy?
“i’d like to think you found me” he says. you don’t really like that he’s in your brain, but you think he knows that. he laughs at you, not to be mean, but because he finds you endearing.
“you know, they say that fairies are the ultimate guardians of love, because it’s what tends to drive us. whenever fairies like me are formed, we spend our whole lives trying to get to our human. they’re all that matters to us”
he picks you up in his arms with ease. you fit perfectly because it’s him.
“where are you taking me?”
he points upwards. towards that dazzling night sky, from which he first came to find you.
“somewhere beyond the stars.”
a/n i’m so sorry for leaving abruptly for so long :’) i’ve been trying to find time to get into the groove so i can finish chaconne i’ll try to update that soon!
SYNOPSIS── ｡𖦹°‧ poor innocent you. . . you didn't realize that guardian beings don't always come as angels. . .
( .✧˚ ) — genre fantasy fluff thriller yandere (if this constitutes?) wc 2.4k warnings suspense, thriller, violence, still fluffy, flirty reblog & comment
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ever since your 16th birthday, you’ve been feeling on edge.
when you were little, your mother told you about all kinds of legends and stories, one of your favorites being guardians. it is said that on a child's 16th birthday, they are assigned 1-5 guardians to help them for the rest of their life, since parents typically become less involved in their kids' lives.
it’s a story all little kids are told to cope with the idea of growing up and one day not being able to rely on their parents anymore. it’s a story everyone but you has outgrown. you want to believe it’s real. being lonely all your life, the idea that someone is always watching over you and making sure you’re okay is comforting; someone is always there to catch you. you wonder what your guardian (or guardians) looks like. you’ve seen a biblically accurate angel before, and they’re quite frightening, so you hope they look a little more. . . human.
you wonder what your guardian does when you sleep. do angels sleep too?
your friends call you childish. “they don’t even exist,” they say, but you choose to believe they do. you have to believe it, or you’ll go insane.
perhaps you also need an excuse for all the crazy experiences you’ve been having since the day of your 16th birthday.
ever since your 16th birthday, you have gotten everything you wanted, so much so that your friends call you the luck generator. as corny as it is, it’s true. you’ve been very lucky since that day.
on the day of your 16th birthday, everything went smoothly. every single person you invited came, even your friends who previously told you they wouldn’t be able to make it. every single one of their important plans was mysteriously derailed or canceled. at first, you thought nothing of this news. why would you think twice? it’s not like you did anything. you were merely a child, what could you have done? but then, the caterers accidentally made extras, the neighbors heard the commotion and gave you 300 dollars in birthday money, and there’s even an extra gift in your pile that no one seems to have any recollection of, which ends up being the best gift of the bunch.
ever since that day, your life has been different.
you ace every exam, you’re a straight-A student, you get gifts all the time, mysteriously showing up inside your locker or in your room; as if it has just physically manifested there, someone is always kind to you, you’re never lonely, and you always have friends.
your life is perfect. . .
kind of.
perfection seems to come at a cost, because since that day, you’ve been attuned to the feeling that someone is watching you. it has gone on so long–so persistent and stubborn–you forget it isn’t normal. you’ve gone through hoops and bounds trying to wash this feeling off your delicate skin, yet it lingers. coats the surface in a suffocating, viscous feeling of paranoia. you’re used to it. used to the way your hair stands up in your pores. at this point, the fear simply sits at the bottom of your stomach. nothing you can do, really.
it’s not just that, though.
whenever you get a boyfriend, for some reason or another, whether reluctant or urgent, they break up with you. everyone who wrongs you in some way pays for it tenfold. they come to you scared, apologizing for their lives, completely in ruin. they end up beat up and bleeding, they end up with some sort of physical or psychological trauma,
to the point where it scares you.,
and to drive it all home, whenever these things happen, something even better happens for you. like an act of comfort from no one in particular.
‘but angels don’t hurt people,’ you think.
but what other explanation is there?
it’s not until one night, when the moon is full and the light cascades over your tear-stained face, that you find out what was watching over you all this time.
you see them clear as day, although the room is soaked in darkness and the light seems to cling only to you–seeking shelter and protection in your presence–you see them. they’re staring at you intently. they study you. unmoving. unwavering.
you had been crying over a friend, one who betrayed you greatly for no reason other than jealousy,being better than you and bringing you down was her virtue, and it made you feel greatly insecure. you don’t have many close friends, unfortunately, so the ones you do have, you keep near and dear. even though you feel like you spend all your time trying to catch up to them, to be as smart as them, as pretty as them, as friendly as them, there’s always something you lack. you sob, so engulfed in your grief, you don’t notice the door opening.
perhaps they thought you wouldn’t see them, but now you stare at them. now, you wanna cry for a completely different reason.
“we didn’t mean to scare you, dear.” the man is blond and broad. his voice is gentle and soothing, but his demeanor frightens you beyond compare. he stands proudly, back straight and chin raised. he has nothing to fear, not even shame. as gentle as he tries to be, his gaze is fierce and focused. determination radiates off of him like heat does the concrete of your sidewalk in summer.
you shiver.
the other one is silent. stares at you with a tightened gaze. he inspects every inch of your being. his eyes don’t judge, but they analyze. his thick arms are crossed over his chest, and his head is tilted, as if to get a real good look at you, deeper and deeper into your soul. he’s thinking, and for some reason, that scares you more. he’s tall–almost freakishly. easily towering over you; even from across the room, he looms like doom and bad intuition. even the way his black hair sits on his head is menacing.
your tears fall as they stalk forward.
“please, don’t hurt me,” you say, meek as a mouse. they stop in their tracks, gazes softening into a puddle of sympathy.
“why would we ever wanna hurt you, darling?” the blond man sits on the foot of your bed gently. he looks at you sadly. your words seemed to have grazed his skin like a misfired bullet.
in all honesty, he is a little hurt, but he understands. you’re not really supposed to meet your guardians, especially not under these circumstances. most humans would be shocked by “uninvited” guests.
he scoots closer to you, and your breath gets caught in your throat. maybe if you stay still, he’ll leave. though you know that’s not the case, it seems like a better option than running. he leans forward ever so slightly. you can barely feel the bed dipping as he does so. he’s careful not to be hasty and scare you with any sudden movements. he knows you better than anyone, even your own parents, and he knows you’re as skittish as a cat. it’s even more apparent when you look at him with those big, glassy eyes of yours, tracking his every movement very carefully. although a bit reclined and guarded, you wait patiently until you make your next move, just like a kitten does with those they’re unfamiliar with. he holds his hand out like one would, like asking for permission to touch you. when you make no further movements, his thumb kisses the tears off of your left cheek, and you jump from the feeling, but you don't run, nor do you reclude any further; he takes that as a good sign. he moves his hand to caress the side of your face and pet you gently.
“see? you’re okay,” he smiles at you warmly, and even in this darkness, you see two gleaming, sharp fangs as white as snow, front and center in all their glory. you sniffle, but he simply wipes your tears again and pets your head to comfort you.
you’re so focused on him, you don’t notice the tall one making his way towards the bed until he’s right next to you. you jolt, a little cry escaping your lips unintentionally, but he says nothing, nor does he react to it. he simply takes his seat right next to you, snaking his arm over your small shoulder and guiding you into his chest. he kisses the top of your head with tender care as his hand slides up and down your side.
“i’m sorry, darling.” his tone is kind, but the bass in his voice startles you. the blond one chuckles at you, so attentive to every little thing you do. he scoots a bit closer to you.
they can both tell you’re a bit overwhelmed, but it’s okay. they know you well enough to ease your racing heart. you’ll fall asleep soon after; they can tell your eyes are already starting to get heavy.
“who are you?” you sniffle, “what do you want from me?”
they laugh at how cliché your question is because they think it’s cute. you’re a bit annoyed, however, at not being taken seriously.
they introduce themselves, and you find out that their names are jungwon and riki,
you also find out that they’re vampires.
you freeze up a bit. you’ve only heard of vampires in folktales and twilight (read: not that often), but from what you do recall, they’re malevolent and vicious creatures that will even kill just for fun.
you wonder how they got in your house, though. don’t they need to be invited in?
so you ask,
“b-but then. . . how did you. . don’t you need. . .” riki laughs into your hair, then reorients himself so that he can look you in the eyes as he speaks.
“we’re your guardians, dear. our bond to you is our invitation.”
guardians? but aren’t guardians supposed to be angels? everyone talks about guardian angels, so you assumed that all guardians are angels. you assumed that everyone dropped the “angel” cause it was a given–why say the whole phrase when you can shorten it? but apparently, that’s just not the case.
the confusion that worms its way onto your face makes them laugh, and jungwon pokes his finger into your cheek gently. you wonder why you ended up with two guardians. isn’t it usually the one? maybe you needed the extra help and adjustment. truth be told, you’ve always felt very lonely. you never really felt connected with your parents, making friends was hard, and life seemed to stress you out a lot, even as a baby. joy and love were not the first concepts you came to understand. instead, you understood distance and conditionality. you were alone most times, and your parents were often gone, whisking you off to some aunt's house, anyone in the neighborhood willing to watch you. any mistake you made was noticeable, and that was a crime.
you know your parents love you. . . or maybe you’ve just assumed they do because that’s what you were told. parents love their kids, or they get rid of them. your parents are usually nice and supportive when you don’t make mistakes. that’s just the way things are. maybe you feel a bit lonely, maybe you feel scared, maybe you feel like you’ll never be enough. . .but that will go away with time, right?
“no need to justify it. bad parents are bad parents.”
can he read your mind?
“they’re not bad parents. . .they just. . .-”
“-are bad?” riki says it bluntly, in a way that cuts clean through your heart. you want to deny it. they love you, so they’re good parents, right?
“love has to be shown, too. not just spoken,” riki states in that blunt tone of his. his words are very matter-of-fact. he leaves you no grace or forewarning; he’s straight to the point.
but although his words seem harsh, his hands caress your skin ever so softly, as if the skin on your face will tear if he so much as presses his fingertips in a little too hard. he glides his fingers across the side of your face as he pulls you into his chest once again.
“it’s okay. so long as we’re here, we’ll keep you safe, hm?” jungwon looks at you proudly. he does not doubt his ability to protect you. the number one priority for everything is you, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get you what you need and what you want.
“it’s okay if others disappoint you, we’re still right here.”
you begin to feel sleepy.
“you don’t need to worry about anything. we’ll handle it.”
your brain feels. . . fuzzy. you’re too tired to dispute anything. life is stressful, and you just wanna sleep. the idea of not having to worry about anything anymore is quite alluring right now, and so is your pillow. your ability to think and reason is dissolving right before you, seeping through the folds of your brain. riki grabs your phone, like he’s done this many times before. you try to look up to see what he’s doing, but you’re just so tired. jungwon hushes you, he lays you down further, and brings the blanket up to your chin. you can hear your phone going off, one chime per second, but jungwon’s got all your attention hooked on him like a baby playing peekaboo.
the distant ringing isn’t enough to bring you back to your senses. you drown it out, even when riki urges jungwon to leave, speaking of something getting risky. . .“she needs to be dealt with immediately.”
whatever it is, it’s clearly not your problem, because jungwon kisses your forehead goodnight, telling you to get some rest, not to worry about waking up for school. they’ll be back for you in the morning, and you’ll be able to do anything you want, then. and you drift off into slumber as they leave through your window swiftly.
you don’t need to know where they’re going,
or what they're doing,
or who they’re going to see.
no matter how gruesome the crime is, how malicious and vindictive the motive, it’s not something they will ever let you worry about.
after all, it is their life purpose to protect you.
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