real?

*THORNS

( * * * )

#( para )#( thorns )#pxdks #( I LOST A BET AND HAD TO WRITE THIS

SHE SHOULD NOT yearn for things outside her narrow reach, things that do not fall to her belongings; and yet she does, and yet, for a glance or a blink of an eye, one burst of stardust spreading it’s lithe hands and cradling the moon inside it’s grasp, soojung too becomes a victim of these human urges. how sweet it is to be loved, this liquor licorice, drunken heartbeats chasing one another in their endless play of cat and mouse.

( one, two, three, focus. it is only a GAME and he is her victim and she will be the victor, his victor. break his heart or mend it back together, so it resembles hers. )

and how should we feed our toxic souls if not with human desires, so they grow and maybe one day swallow us whole. and how do we crack somebody open and empty them, voluntarily, if not through the promise of LOVE, the promise of HAPPINESS - erase the regret and see the way the lips quiver, eyes don’t lie, and watch with wonder as they let themselves be eaten alive. all in the name of love.

this is the bait. this is the want.

( all wants become needs with time. )

truly, soojung has never before felt more exquisitely human, simultaneously enchanted and repulsed by her own virtues and vices, gnawing at her seams.

what are they doing, really? tip-toeing around knee-length water? scared to fall two-steps down? she could KISS him, it would be so easy - one curve of the face and a breath stolen before he even knows it, all teeth and desperation and spur of the moment dizziness. she could lean in - and she does, a bit - taste that rosy color of his cheeks, have his hands wandering along the edges of her spine, pulling her apart once more.

but soojung has never been one for easy. the fact she’s with him today is testament enough.

“if you really knew all there is to know,” bitterness saturates her senses, tone soft in the worst ways, the ways it’d drive him mad against his ear, “you wouldn’t be here, now would you? but it’s okay, kyungsoo. i’ll give you time enough to really learn.”

and as her lids descend and fangs grow with the intoxicating smell of his blood, her nose nuzzling against the most prominent vein of his neck, soojung wonders what he’ll look like if she bites for real. will his cheeks redden? will he let her slide onto his lap and lick his wounds clean, fingers tied into her hair, face buried in the juncture of her shoulders?

( and what if she likes it? )

but above her the show comes to a booming climax, startling her awake, and suddenly all lust is swept by guilt, heart sinking below sea level. soojung pulls away as fast as she had reached out to him, expression darkened in deep grooves of remorse.

“i’m--” she’s what? “--i’m sorry. kyungsoo. i have to go. i can’t be here. i feel sick.”

she can’t do this to him. she can’t take his adoration and suck it dry; not with him, not with kyungsoo, not as long as she cares.

she hides her face beneath waves of hair as she turns to leave, hoping he won’t notice the discoloration of her irises.

“i’m so sorry.”

and she’s gone with the wind.

*THORNS

( * * * )

#( para )#( thorns )#pxdks #( I REGRET NOTHING YOLO

HER OWN deliberate methods fail her at the most crucial of times, soojung left a deer in the headlights, scurrying into the underbrush; a horror story if she's ever heard one, but somehow instead of the frightening cold she finds only the sensation of a scorching warmth, peering out it's ugly head from where kyungsoo had held her hand and squeezed. and in her brief moment of system shutdown, she wonders, what if he could touch her other places too, run hands through her whole existence, unwavering, and weave a whole new soojung from the bone scraps. perhaps she would burn, finally overheat from the way his bashful eyes trail over the dainty shadow of her silhouette, filling her up and drinking every last drop of her at the same time. but aren't we just that, in the end; FIREWORKS, awaiting dutifully the one to set them aflame, combusting in their short lived glory of the moment, until all that's left is the fairydust as their bitter aftertaste. indeed, on earth we are only ever briefly gorgeous. and there is no conflict in the end, merely cowardice; the options remain as vibrantly stagnant as the day she first leaned in to feel his heart beat through rib confinements, fragile flesh, stitches of light and cotton sheets. say YES, the amen of a non believer. this will only be a sin of the soul. ( "and how should i refrain my soul, lest it touch yours?" NO MATTER, is it not a possibility to finally let go? souls are meant to touch, perhaps, and people have misunderstood - souls are meant to tangle and mangle and spasm in their hurt. ) he pulls her close and soojung is convinced - her heart beats of no other necessity than to spiral free from her chest and blindly search a way to his, latch on and never let go. even his breath goes gentle in it's sweet caress against the ear, smile so prominent she can almost taste it, almost DROWN. ( maybe if she kissed him he would take enough of the bitter and the pain away so they can swallow one breath at a time, together. ) and dazedly, she does what she knows best, what she depends on - scoffs, intimacy of the moment shattered and rebuilt again when she turns her own head to whisper smooth against his ear, eyes narrowed and noses lightly bumping in the movement. "i'm a GOOD LIAR. you just don't know it yet." and further, "what makes you think i'll let you take me?" shallowly betrayed by her own flushed cheeks and the quiver of her hand beneath his own. damn the world. but also not. why else would she ever let get herself be so transparent, if not because whatever part of her wished for him to see? her fingers lace within his own, a promise, chin sliding down to the slope between his neck and shoulder, "maybe i'll be the one taking you. or maybe we can take each other." ( say yes. ) and then an inhale, slow and sweet, the intoxicating smell of his cologne and something else, something, something--! no. no. BLOOD.

inffawn

l’appel du vide;

( * * * )

#( para )#( l’appel du vide )#pxkingsley #( SLOWLY COMING BACK TO LIFE.

MUSIC SWIRLS in tune with the whisky in her glass, copper galaxy, all but filled by the stars in her eyes; and isn’t she a beauty, jung soojung, the black chiffon of her dress skirted up to expose her milky thighs against the velveteen high stool. lovely little soojung, softly sharp, a lamb all ready for the taking.

( -- is what a fool might see, but all become soft in their mindset of a strong predator, huffing and puffing until their chests blow out. )

and she certainly didn’t come here in search of a company, but perhaps urged by a mind compromised in it’s loneliness, a contradiction in itself - she wants the chatter but none of the talk, just words to fill the empty spaces between one dull heart beat and the next. can’t have your cake and eat it, jung soojung.

so she proclaims herself unapproachable, gaze cold and body hugged in the warmth of the shadows, drawing away from the attention of nightly BEASTS. and yet - always, a yet - one dares step forward, ( smells of imported sophistication and domestic cigarettes. )

a cheshire in the making, if not already made. takes one to know one.

and though he strokes her ego nicely, soojung is in no mood to purr tonight; offers back only a raised brow at his self compliment and the continuous circling of her finger around the brim of her glass.

SNAP: but he’s got her attention, and that’s all that counts in the end.

“you should try this pickup line on that girl in the other corner. she seems intoxicated enough.” there it is, the bite, the bile, one vile sip at a time, “oh, and whiskey is a classic. i can see you already know that, though.”

*THORNS

( * * * )

#( para )#( thorns )#pxdks #( I HATE THIS TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME

IT IS WITHIN SIMPLICITY that soojung finds true beauty; no more dulling of the senses, no more blurring of the mind. and so the golden linens of her sheets pale both in meaning and importance when put next to such a mundane thing as FIREWORKS, booming flashes of stardust tearing the sky apart, until all that’s left is the aftertaste of it’s arterial blues.

it’s not about them, in the end. it has never been about them.

first times stick to you like nothing else in the world, soojung would know; thrill of discovery rushing to surpass the need of understanding throbbing deep inside her bones. and if she could, she wishes that her whole life would be comprised of FIRSTS, so she would never fall into a somber slumber of the mind, as long as she can call herself truly ALIVE.

and in all it’s crooked contradictions, kyungsoo feels like her most exquisite first of all.

because when he touches her, it’s almost like she’d never ever been touched before; and when he looks at her, it’s almost like she’d never ever been adored so truly. he paints a trail of warmth along the constellations of her palm, he paints the image of a heart gone lead inside her heavy chest, he paints soojung, not the dutiful soldier or the monster of the night; he writes her youthful and most intensely viable, he makes her twenty-one again.

he breaks her once and mends her back together, anew.

and she surrenders.

( and don’t we touch each other to prove we are still here? )

breathlessly, it is only within the split of a second that she catches his gaze, but it is plentiful of a moment to understand. how could soojung ever explain? he gives and gives and gives, and she takes, SELFISHLY.

and then she has an ugly thought; i want you to want me.

( i need you to need me, but yearning suits her so much better than the foul vulnerability of desperation. )

and with her blood singing in her veins and lungs expanding with every offbeat thump of her heart, soojung looks at him, really looks at him, and says, “beautiful,” reservations gashed by her overflowing need for more, more on HER TERMS.

and she thinks that every time he touches her, it will always feel like the first.

but the moment is over and she’s back to choking down emotions, draining herself in the next filthy attempt to appear entirely too dismissive, entirely too casual in her aloofness. strangely, this time, unlike all the others, it works. she’s not yet sure if she’s disappointed.

“the fireworks are beautiful. i should’ve come to see them sooner.”

( and a tiny voice inside her head: you can’t play tug and war with yourself, jung soojung. )

pxsungjoo-deactivated20171003

on top of the world

( * * * )

#( para )#( on top of the world )#pxsungjoo #( THIS IS LATE I AM HORRIBLE FORGIVE ME---

SOLITUDE GUARDS her fragile bones like a shield, a small offer of security; and confined to her own bitter loneliness she may be, but soojung has always picked her weapons with utmost attention. in the end there is little difference to be found between a one hand distance and a mile of detached weather conversations. it’s all about the perseverance of the soul. ( she has no use for redemption; they are all sinners here anyway, selfish and maddened with their own arrogance. and isn’t it just that, in the end, ARROGANCE, cowardice, they won’t strip me of my flesh and leave my spirit bare and open, not if there’s nothing to take from the get go ) so soojung likes books, words, sentences, as they demand nothing more from her than she is willing to give. it was to her biggest delight that she found somebody with a similar mindset to her own, if only to share her joy in simplicity in these defiant moments, cynicism chipping under the divine hands of her lucid adoration for these arts. she flips the pages of her book in mellow silence, verses blooming under her fingertips like flowers in the sun; and in her eyes hide the flickers of stars, dying worlds of whimsy she will never truly know. a sort of feeling of sonder passes through her then, and in an instant she finds what she has been looking for. "what is that tune? i feel like i've heard it from somewhere." her word's are scratched by the wind. she shakes her head once, halfheartedly, voice raising over the shrieking cars and the moans of the metropolis on it's evening edge. "there it is. LITTLE BEAST. a personal favorite poem of mine." a crook of the eyebrow, expectations rising on her expression, "want me to read it?"

ooc;

HELLO LOVES.

#( ooc )#pxooc

in the end we were all just .HUMANS drunk on the idea that love ( only love-- ) could heal our brokenness.

KS & SJ

#( petty hearts )#pxdks #( thorns and roses )#( GENTLE SOBBING

*THORNS

( * * * )

#( para )#( thorns )#pxdks #( first half written at 4 am if it wasnt obvious #second one not proof read BECAUSE IM A SHIT

IF EYES really are the windows to the soul, his might be her favorite, as, in all their wide appeal and perpetual tiredness, they do not hold anything back for her to see. a reassurance, if a small one, yet still at least dully noted by a girl too weary of the world to allow herself anything more. and if anything, soojung is supposed to be the MYSTERY; that’s why she’s there, right? for him to solve her? ( wouldn’t have it any other way. )

it’s better to be feared anyway - rough edges give a hard time to thieves and god forbid he steals a part of her heart, any part of her at all. WHOLE, soojung thinks, is the only proper way to live, and loneliness is a small fee to pay in her road to security. ( rule of exchange; to obtain, something of equal value must be lost. )

still, she came to have a good time, so she’s willing to throw her presumptions away; lets herself be momentarily distracted by the way the collar of his jacket is slightly crooked to one side or the one defiant strand of hair sticking up his forehead. from this angle he looks almost endearingly compliant, so heartwarming in his earnest awkwardness it just might melt through soojung's thorough armor of permanent cold. how late? "LATE ENOUGH." and a complimentary smile that cracks through her expression at the thought, soojung suddenly overridden by a devious sense of glee, akin to one you'd get from a well pulled prank or a safely kept secret, an inside joke kyungsoo is yet to understand. but he will, one day - if he plays his cards right. and she follows close behind, when he calls for her, almost reaches out a hand to tug at his sleeve but decides against it, too many worries pinning it down; he hadn't wanted to hold on, so why should she be the one to make the first move? they don't need such a signifier anyway - tugging on each other is a custom made for DATES, and this most certainly is not a date. ( surely not. of course not. ) her fingers play with the grass beneath her absentmindedly when they finally sit down, plucking and pulling and diverting her attention away, "i haven't seen the fireworks--" she begins then, softly through the rumble of the crowd, before realization strikes and her tone colors with the slightest tinge of shame, "--in a while, i mean! in a long while. and i won't laugh if you promise not to either." his clumsy imitation goes not without an accompaniment of a pointed eye roll from her side, but soojung laughs lightheartedly through her own second hand embarrassment nonetheless, the way their voices mix and distort almost serene against a backdrop of muffled noise. her mind is radio-static at his bubbling excitement, suddenly urged to let some of her pretenses go and admit to her own building anticipation. sometimes you have to LOSE to WIN. "hey, when is the show going to start--" and, as if on cue, the first fireworks of the night flare through the nightly darkness and combust loudly up above, sending her heightened hearing into complete overdrive. soojung jumps in her spot, involuntarily so, hands shooting forward to latch onto kyungsoo's forearm and eyes closing shut beneath their veil of brown waves. when the recoil is finally over and her lids flutter shallowly open, soojung is quick to retaliate in a desperate attempt to save herself at least some of her pride. "stupid organizers. they started this early, how should i have known--" but then her gaze slides up and over the flickering embers in the horizon and halts, biting tongue twisting shut behind the barrier of her teeth. she has never seen anything more mesmerizing than this.

antigonick

For I have but the power to kill— Without the power to die.

Emily Dickinson, excerpt of To Foe of His (via antigonick)

#( petty hearts )#( emo quotes are the best

ain’t close enough (&soojung)

( * * * )

#( para )#( ain't close enough )#pxtaekwoon #( shes so bitter i have no words

CATS MAY have nine lives, but soojung has one only and not a second to spare dwelling on her ( rather questionable ) morale; sidetracking, in principle, would never do you any good, least of all when your shoulder’s bleeding profusely and there’s a royal beastly trashing on the ground mare meters away. she chooses the rather simple but greatly effective alternative of just staying put and staring at the gruesome show unfolding right in front of her very eyes, sparing herself the trouble of worry. she would claim that she cares, but she would really only be lying to herself - maybe ten minutes ago she would’ve never done this to taekwoon but soojung has the worst tendency of holding DELIGHTFULLY PAINFUL grudges and in her crooked mindset he deserves this. an eye for an eye. ( she’d make the whole damn world go blind if she has to ) that’s not to say she’s ENJOYING this. there’s a lot more for her to learn before she gets to that level of sadistic, though she’s definitely on the right track. too many field missions in a row tend to have that effect on minds not yet willing to yield under the pressure of guilt, but who’s to say cruelty can’t be your sharpest weapon? certainly not soojung. STOP he screams, lungs drowning in fear and lips quivering, yet wavering has never been part of her extensive repertoire. he needs to learn his LESSON, needs to be properly retaught. ( and through her self-assurance sneaks in the thought, who’s the beast now soojung, who, who, who? ) ( doesn’t matter. ) ( does it? ) and devil knows she’s absolutely determined to see this through, make him BEG and submit him to her make-belief power and glory rattling her bones, but there he goes and cries, there he goes and ruins it. this isn’t part of the plan - he’s not supposed show her kindness, she’s not supposed to pity him, it isn’t FAIR. it only takes a momentary flicker of discord to her senses to break her carefully arranged scheme. her knees fall heavy on the dirt next to him, palms bloody when she tilts his chin to meet his eyes. “i’m not stupid, taekwoon-ah.” her vision spins, and she suddenly can’t remember the last time she properly fed, “didn’t anybody tell you it’s not nice to attack patrol guards?” her chuckle, ironically lighthearted, knives through the silence of the night as her thumb leaves a gentle swipe of red over the top of his cheekbone, flicking drops of tears away, “so you’re TOXIC inside out.”

fuckyeah-fx

#( pretty faces )#( CHANGE OF HAIR GUYS SOOJUNG IS NOW BLONDE--

infseolhyun-deactivated20160912

*ATONEMENT

( * * * )

#pxareum #( para )#( atonement )#( boy.

SHE DOESN’T need to look to sense the disappointment, prominent buzz unfamiliar in regards to their relationship; if anything, areum has always served as a support, so widely spread and giving soojung wonders how there’s ever anything left for her own sake. and if she could, she would serve her the moon and the stars on a platter - but time and space exist, and so does their new-found distance, separation inked onto her skin like a prison tattoo.

( she’s not like soojung, doesn’t expect anything in return. she’s not sure if that makes her better or worse or both - there’s always a duality to everything. )

and if anything, they’re just beating around the bush. it does not evade soojung that perhaps it was mostly her FAULT that they had come so far, only to be broken; hers and maybe the unfortunate circumstances, but that’s life and you can’t always run away from your responsibilities. no matter how hard you try.

( granted, soojung never really tried. but things have always had a way of circling back to you, and it’s then that deeds begin to matter more than the flimsy of words. soojung can’t help the expectations but maybe she can change the OUTCOME. )

she should leave. any good soldier would solute once then turn on their heel, out for the task they were really assigned to; but she’s tired and lonely and her feet feel like lead in world where gravity continues to exist.

she stays, if only for the NOSTALGIA of the banter.

“well, rumor has it i have some deep connections to the royals,” a scoff, barely heard beneath her stoic mask of competence, “i really wouldn’t know where those came from. do you?”

visibly relaxing, she lets her gaze wander up to areum’s face, “and what are you doing here--” she stops, frowns a little, corrects herself, “--your highness. i thought you didn’t live in the mansion anymore?”

*ADRENALINE HIGH

pxirene-blog

“remember, we’ll try to take as many out without making a noise. when they notice, that’s when we charge.”

#pxirene #( para )#( adrenaline high )#( better late than never #tw: violence

THEY HAD it coming; you don’t wage wars you cannot win, not with the high expectations of MERCY from the ones you wish to eradicate so dearly. if what they say is true and humans run on instinct and fear, soojung thinks, tonight they won’t be denied to feel these most exquisite of emotions. ( it’s a CRUEL world out there and only the strongest get to prevail. soojung is no peaceful creature, never got the chance or choice to be, but one finds beauty in death too, when they’ve never been properly alive ) doesn’t matter anyway, she won’t let it eat her up - guilt is a punishment common only among wrong-doers and she neither has a soul to mourn over nor something to be condemned about. ( so why does she keep thinking about it? ) ( the weight of steel on her thigh and silenced guns flaring in the back of her mind make her seem a lot like the VILLAIN the more it goes on, but that too, she supposes, doesn’t matter now. she’ll find herself an excuse - she just has to look a little harder. ) one silent nod is all the confirmation she gives, nimble fingers pulling her mask up and splitting her expression in half, pretty eyes under the shade of her cap and the rest - gone beneath soft black. serious soojung switches on so quickly it’s almost disheartening. ALMOST. SHOWTIME.

the first guard on the left opening doesn’t see her coming; aided by the warm hands of the night, soojung strikes fast and precise as per usual. one snap of the neck. his bones crunch under her touch. ( doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter ) she doesn’t look back for an assertion that irene is close behind, the thump of her heart deafening inside her ears when she skips every second step of the stairs and ascends another level. her soles fall hollow and hushed against the creaky flooring, her grasp tight around the leather handle of her dagger; she is a girl on a MISSION, and explicitly so. then, suddenly, there’s an arm over her chest and something sharp sliding over the gentle curve of her collarbones, inches away from her fragile throat, BULLSEYE, if it had not been for her enhanced reactions. soojung twists, her elbow landing harsh into the hunters stomach, stealing breath, buying time. she spares not a moment to drive her own weapon through the ribs and right into his ugly heart, and twists, until all she can hear is her own shallow breathing. until the spark in his eyes grows dull. ( no, no, she had made a mistake . she doesn’t know what but she’s sure she’ll pay tenfold for it. ) he had not been stupid and soojung could already sense backup on their way. realization of her missing partner strikes her cold, she should’ve LOOKED BACK, she should’ve made sure. but it’s too late to regret and shadows are approaching, stirring something awfully close to panic in her gut. soojung readies herself for a fight.

pxirene-blog

( 2/2 ) irene kim x jung soojung; ride or die

“sometimes, the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

#( daggers and knives )#( KILL ME JUNGRENE ARE TOO GOOD

*THORNS

// @pxdks

SOOJUNG HAS never been a person of indulgence, never of rest and perhaps, alarmingly so, she has grown too deeply accustomed to the comfort of carefully structured habits and plans, all molded to fit her concept of a semi-presentable life. impulsiveness is overrated anyway - it is within the details that one can appreciate the true beauty of living and routines are nothing but a structure, nothing but help.

tomorrow she’ll train with irene. then she might call areum, console herself in a friend. it is with such pleasant people that soojung shares her precious small amount of free time, an expected good company that leaves nothing to the imagination, all secure and tidy and sweet. just how she LIKES it.

and then there’s kyungsoo. it’s only fitting there be an EXCEPTION after all.

to say that he brings out the worst in her would be an understatement - soojung doesn’t PLAY AROUND, not usually, not with the minds of others and certainly not with their hearts. yet, often, irregular nightly visits under the guise of a dream leave her chest prickling with excitement and even more so when they’re both awake, both their uncanny selves, too lost in limitless curiosity and secrets awaiting their grand reveal.

so many things can go wrong. he’s human. he’s fragile. one day he’ll know, because NOTHING stays buried forever. and when he leaves she’ll have no reasoning, nothing other than a flimsy i was bored.

yet she still invites him out to watch the FIREWORKS, gives no room for refusals. an act of whimsy if she’s seen one, but does she really care?

the warm breath of summer air curls around her figure, wavy brown locks ruffled over the soft material of her thin casual dress, wrist expertly flicking to check the time. she’s EARLY, she notes, deep scowl finding it’s way across her pretty features and eyes gliding up across the breaking twilight.

SENTIMENTALITY was never a trait she possessed, yet now it almost feels like so; fireworks are yet another distant human thing she was deprived of as a young noble, in favor of flashy dinner parties and a world put through the vintage filter of time. it’s only natural to be curious. today she would see them for real.

if he ever shows up, she almost scoffs, feet tapping impatiently against the tiled park path. and then embarrassment hits her along with the offhand realization that she came FIRST, and no, she most DEFINITELY will not have him believe she had been anticipating this--

the smile that rises on her face at the sight of him is quick to be dismissed, but the damage is already done. soojung falls back into the known, her own personal pretense of devious nonchalance, and expertly so.

( damn him and his psychology degree. )

“you’re LATE.” he isn’t. still, her voice softens considerably with the next, “we should go and find good seats.”

#pxdks #( para )#( thorns )#pxrosefestival #( SHES SO TSUNDERE ADFG

ain’t close enough (&soojung)

he hadn’t ever taken from a fellow vampire before, and it was very much frowned upon (certainly not a topic to be brought up in civilised conversation) but now he tasted the richness of soojung’s life he wondered why he hadn’t before. the vampire wanted more, drinking greedily. a soft moan rumbled through his chest, vibrating against soojung’s skin. taekwoon was lost in the toxic haze fresh blood brought