I'm tired of trying to rp with people and getting completely ignored.

gracie abrams

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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
occasionally subtle

ellievsbear
đ
untitled
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Kiana Khansmith
Fai_Ryy
ojovivo
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Origami Around
Phantogram Three
d e v o n
tumblr dot com
Claire Keane

seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from France

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Moldova
seen from United States

seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Romania

seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from Venezuela

seen from Mexico

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Philippines

seen from Jordan

seen from Germany

seen from Russia
seen from Thailand
seen from United States
@scxpegoxt-blog
I'm tired of trying to rp with people and getting completely ignored.
pularuk:
itâs as though heâs swallowed lead, and itâs sinking to the pit of his stomach while he waits for the other to respond. fear; jimin has only felt it once before, when he was so sure that jungkook had died because of him, and now it comes in the form of hakyeonâs silence. he hadnât noticed the tears until hakyeonâs voice broke, and suddenly he regrets not reaching out. if only opening his eyes woke him from this dream, taking them back to that summer where they were almost happy. almostâŚ
jimin bites at his lip, his hands curled into fists at his sides. he wants to hold hakyeon, terribly so. but can he? will he be pushed away, or do the pushing? itâs a damn mess in his head and he just wants to be honest for once.
the words echo within him, and itâs ironic how opposite they are â that jimin never intended to care, but did. that hakyeon always wanted to care, but couldnât. he watches hakyeon slump to the floor, his eyes burning. itâs not fair. âyouâve made it this far, hakyeon hyung. you have to keep going,â the fallen whispers, lowering himself to wrap the oldest in a hug. the first time heâs touched hakyeon in so long⌠forget holding back, even if itâs just for this moment, jimin will do whatever it takes to make it last, just a little bit longer. âyouâre lying to yourself, and you know it. youâre gonna want no matter what, but youâre not alone, no matter what you think. keep your secrets, whatever, but that doesnât mean that people wonât accept you. i had to learn that, the hard way.â
jimin isnât the best person to talk about this; heâd started from nothing, he wasnât even supposed to fall in love at all and yet here he stands. if only hakyeon understood him. âi want you to stay. please.â
Hakyeon turned in Jiminâs arms. He leaned his head against Jimin's shoulder. It had been so long since heâd been comforted, physically comforted, and it made it harder to hold anything back. He could feel the dampness his tears created on Jimin's shirt. It made shame burn on his cheeks but it didn't stop him. He hadnât realized how muc he needed this and it all exploded. Crying turned to sobbing and his body shook. Later the self-loathing would kick it and the little shred of self-awareness taunted him-but it wouldnât stop. It felt so good to finally speak up, to finally cry, to finally be held.
âJimin,â was all he could choke out. He wasn't even sure what to say to him. The petals sat threateningly on the back of his throat. Things he shouldnât say. Not now. Not with Jiminâs words ringing in his ears. I want you to stay. It shouldnât be hard to believe. He knew Jimin cared about him, Jimin missed him, but still it made his fingers curl into Jiminâs shirt. A blow to the gut he hadnât expected that brought about the fear of actually being so overwhelmed with repressed emotions that he would throw up. His fingers dug a little deeper as he inhaled through his nose. With the weight of Jiminâs arms to focus on he exhaled. After a few moments it quieted down. Sobs died down to hiccups that slowed his tears down from a downpour to light rain and let his insides sooth the quakes.
He wanted to stay like this.
Itâs better being wanted.
âYou...really want me to stay?â Hakyeon had questioned with a raspy voice. âEven if I shouldnât, even if itâs more dangerous? Even though I...you donât need me. Even if I need you?â He leaned out of the hug to cough into his arm. A petal escaped. Tulips. His eyes were sore. He was so tired. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and kept his hold on Jimin with the other. âIâm sure...Seokjin already shared some of our secrets with you. I know that hadnât changed anything between you too butâŚâ Iâm different. âYouâre...okay with that? You still want me?â Another cough.
â
The sun was low, letting itsâ last rays of light caress the edges of the city. The light bled through the white curtains and onto the floorboards. Tassel flowers were thrown across the room recklessly. Their leaves and stems soaked in puddles of red. A shaky sigh broke the silence of the room as Hakyeon stared at the body in front of him.
The outside world buzzed with car engines and conversations, but all of it was muffled to Hakyeonâs ears. Encased in his own little bubble of white noise he pulled off his mask. In front of him was an unrecognizable mess of flesh, blood, muscle, and flowers sewn together messily. The tassel flowers, their stems, their leaves, were carved into the throat and chest. His own burned. He rubbed a dirtied hand against his flat chest. A wistful smile pulled at his lips. At least he had this.
A mirror sat by the phone. His hand hesitated over the landline to look at his appearance. The same mask, short red wig, his height wouldnât matter-they never had clear shots of them next to each other anyways-they wouldnât be able to tell it wasnât him. His hands shook.
The end, the end, this is the end. The police will come, theyâll think they captured half the duo, theyâll think heâs Seokjin for as long as he can hide it, heâll give them as many false leads as he can, heâll keep Seokjin safe at the cost of his freedom.
His eyes widened at the thought. Phantom hands ran along his thigh and pressed along his chest. He ripped the phone from the based, dialed 119, then hung up the moment he heard the voice on the line. The shaking went from his hands to his whole body. He dug his fingers into his chest as he heaved.
The sun said its goodbyes as Hakyeon grabbed the cold body by the shoulders and flung it across the room. Something shattered but he paid no mind to it as he rushed out.
Not again. They wonât take his freedom again.
( `pit a pat )
@scxpegoxt
it has gotten easier to slip between realities. after three years of jumping, she had gotten the hang of it, for the most part, although as young as she was, she still made mistakes. going too far in the same timeline. jumping to realities where things are too different, or continents that donât speak korean.
( those were the hardest. being a foreigner in a country and reality where she was not meant to exist meant she had nowhere to hide. she was always so afraid, there. )
her heart still raced as she drew a door in the air with her forefinger, the allotted time she was allowed to stay nearing itâs end. she envisioned a seoul thatâs four years into the future. it was summer. hongdae. that was where twenty-somethings gather, and she knew sheâd find someone with a warm heart, there.
another friendship she would forge, another friendship she would leave behind for who knew how long, but it was better to go through heartache over and over again than to truly be alone.
jinsoul slipped through the doorway, and straight into a firm body â a young man, at that. the force of their collision sent the blonde toppling over with an undignified yelp into the forest floor. once again, the cursed girl landed somewhere she hadnât meant to be in, a show of how little she really had control over. but her priority right then was a young man sheâd taken down. âi am so sorry! oh my god, are you okay? i am so sorry ââ she blurted out, looking at him with worry and concern. that was the first time sheâd ever landed on top of someone, and embarrassment colored her cheeks brightly. âi didnât hurt you, did i?â
The trees told him of magic welling up between their trunks. They spoke to him of something, they weren't sure just what yet, that was going to burst through the seams of the air. It made the forest cooler and animals skip around the gathering of trees nervously. Taehyung thought it was pretty cool so he'd linger around to see. It's not like he had anywhere to go anyways.
After he collected all the herbs and flowers he needed, with the help of the trees, he plopped down by a small tower of rocks. The earth below him groaned. He gave a light pat to the grass before sprawling out his tomes, vials, and greens. The smell of burning wood that lingered between the tomes pages filled the air and suddenly he lost track of my he settled there.
It was his third potion, a sleeping elixir, that was interrupted. He just begun to sort through the valerian and lemon balm when he heard a rip. The suddenly, Taehyung was face first in dirt, grass, and leaves. After the weight got off of him he leaned up with a light groan. Dead leaves and twigs decorated his hair and a streak of dirt was along his cheek.
âIt hurts,â he whines to himself as he rubs his shoulder. Hearing the other voice he turned to curiously look up at his assailant. Well, at least his assailant is pretty. He grinned at her. âIâll be fine,â he said as he sat back down in the grass. Then it hit him. "My potion!" He lunged forward to see his hard work spilled and soaked into the dirt. He sighed as he picked up the jar. "Well, it was my fault for not paying attention." Taehyung looked back up at her. "You're the one who made the air weird, right?"
@latibulx
MORE THAN PISSED OFF, the baker felt angry. The anger though wasnât directed at anyone else but him and he wasnât exactly sure that he wanted to keep it under control. He deserved the backlash, he deserved the way the customer had rejected a creation he had spent several days on and, more importantly, he deserved being called useless. He knew that already but there was a strange comfort to have it confirmed by someone else â someone who didnât even know him personally.
His crooked fingers deeply digging into some dough, he sent a glance to the other male that was half a glare before he focused back on his task. The frustration was growing within him like an untamed fire licking at his insides and spreading through his veins until it reached his eyes. It stung. Tears of frustration welled up in his usual brown soft orbs; he just didnât understand why he bothered working so hard when it was all for nothing in the end.
Two firm hands found their way to his shoulders. Seokjin stilled, glanced once more over his shoulders before the deepest of the sigh left his lips. Maybe, just this one time, heâd allow someone to take care of him. Just once.
Taehyung had been visiting this bakery for a while now. A friend of his gave him cupcakes from the bakery as payment for a potion once, and honestly, it wasnât a fair trade on his friendâs part. That being said he usually comes close to closing in hopes of getting anything for cheap (or maybe even, free) but today was different. Today he had money. And also he got a bad reading when he practiced his tarot cards this morning, but thatâs besides the point. Those cupcakes, and Seokjin-hyung, were waiting.
He had only caught the end of the angry customerâs rant as he walked it but he saw enough on Seokjinâs face to know how he felt. Taehyung knew all too well the stress of customer service. His thumbs rubbed just above Seokjinâs shoulder blades. His eyebrows furrow as he finds a stiff part to unravel. âSome people have no taste,â he said as he concentrated on giving Seokjin the best back massage and pep talk, âthe cake you made was a masterpiece! Youâre really talented, Seokjin-hyung.â He dug his thumb in a little harder. âDonât listen to some customer who could barely make packaged brownies.âÂ
pularuk:
fault.Â
hakyeon throws that word around like the more he says it the more he might make jimin believe it ( or maybe itâs for himself ), but all it ends up doing is making his heavy heart sink further. âthatâs a lie,â he murmurs quietly without meaning to, the words escaping him before he can capture them and tie them up. it was all of their faults, though. if jimin hadnât been so caught up in himself, or what the others were doing, he could have gone to hakyeon sooner, he could have known â
he closes his eyes as the oldest continues talking, his tongue caught between his teeth. he remembers the first time they really saw each other, when jimin had his hands wrapped around hakyeonâs neck, or the time they had just relaxed in one anotherâs presence in the summer heat when there was no harm to be done, when he would wait for jin in the flower shop by talking to hakyeon in his quiet voice. that was all it took for him to stay, back then? yet so much has changed, for the both of them. âbeing needed, and being wanted, those are two different things, hyung. sometimes itâs better being wanted, than needed. you were alwaysâŚâ heâs afraid to speak. heâs afraid of driving hakyeon further away, but â with a sigh, he finishes, âyou were always wanted.â
speaking to the oldestâs back is easier, jimin finds. he kicks his feet for a bit as he mulls over what heâs heard before he sighs, pushing himself off the counter. âhakyeon hyung, i donât know what it is youâre tormenting yourself over, here, because you did come back. you wanted to, didnât you?â his back seems so close, just within reach, but hakyeon is so far away itâs as though heâs only talking to a memory. maybe thatâs all it is. âdonât think so damn hard about it. isnât it easier to just do something? even if itâs as small as just coming back, as saying something youâve been â youâve been holding out on. becauseâŚâ his hand raises, and he is so close to grabbing hold of the back of hakyeonâs jacket, but then â he drops it with a defeated sigh. he is a damn contradiction, not even practicing what heâs saying.Â
because with hakyeon, thereâs always that feeling of should, he should reach out, he needs to tell him, but itâs too late. âyou never know. someone could have been waiting for the next move.â
Hakyeon was going to throw up. Jiminâs words were so nice. He wanted to believe it them but he didnât want to believe in them and the contradictory feelings that met in the pit of his stomach filled him to the brim and wanted an escape. The emotional stress burned. His mouth watered. His eyes watered.
You were always wanted.
There were two times in Hakyeonâs life where he was told he was wanted. The second time was when they first started to live with their Grandmother. Seokjin and himself had wander the city streets by themselves for weeks. They were dirty, hungry, tired-but they were free. When she had first approached them they were scared. Adults couldnât be trusted even if they looked harmless. Somehow they always crossed paths but the answer was always the same. It took Seokjin falling ill and Hakyeon having no idea how to help him to get them to finally agree. Only until Jinnie got better. At the end of the week when Seokjin could eat without throwing up their Grandmother looked Hakyeon in the eyes with a gentle smile.
I want you boys to be healthy and loved.
The first time he was told he was wanted was in a basement full of large hands.
He cracked. The first tear rolled down his cheek-then the second, third, forth, tenth-it only took a moment to soak his skin. âJimin-â he hated how his voice broke, âYou donât understand. I have to think about everything I do, everything I say, anyone I talk to, get close to, get attached to!â He hated how he got louder and louder as he rambled on. He hunched in on himself with the palms of his hands pressed hard against his eyes. Stop, stop, stop, please. âThere is so much I need to hide to keep us safe. I canât want because if I want anything, anyone-there are no moves for me to make because they canât know about us. About our past, about who we are now. There is so much I have to think about. So much I have to keep secret,â he sobbed. His chest, his throat, his eyes were on fire. It hurt to talk but her couldnât stop. âItâs not fair,â he said quietly, âI want to stop thinking. I want to turn it all off and shut down or just be normal.â His legs shook so he slid down to the floor to fold in on himself.
âI want so much, Jimin.â
open to: m / f / nb connection: close friends
     It wasnât supposed to turn out this way, really. A simple afternoon spend lounging around lazily with his friend, catching up on the things theyâve missed in each otherâs lives. Except at some point or another, it got deeper and deeper until the flood gates opened and Daehyun was sobbing out monthsâ worth of stress, anxiety and emotions onto bed sheets that arenât his and hoping his friend doesnât find him pathetic after the day is over.
The whole thing is cathartic though, and after somewhere between thirty and sixty minutes heâs settled down. Sniffling quietly, trembling hands dab at swollen eyes while he refuses to look at them.
âS-Sorry, sorry, I didnât mean to justâ dump all this on you.â
The afternoon doesnât go as planned but Taehyung is always ready for the unexpected in his life. Bright sunlight filters through the windows and contrasts the dark mood Taehyung gently cards his fingers through Daehyunâs hair. His fingers rubbing and scratching along Daehyunâs scalp. He hopes itâs soothing. Worries, fears, anxieties, flood the room but Taehyung is glad Daehyun spoke up. So proud.Â
âHey, donât apologize,â he scolds playfully, âIâm happy you dumped it on me.â He smiles as he pulls his hand away. âWeâre friends.â He pinches Daehyunâs cheek lightly. âJust tell me sooner instead of letting it build up.âÂ
@lxtent âThey cannot end if they never began.â
He did not care to keep the bitterness from his tone. What point was there now in hiding? Leo had hidden for long enough. He had hidden so much of himself that sometimes he forgot what he was meant to be. But Hakyeon had seen more than Leo had ever wanted, ever planned.
Then he had left. He left again like he had done before and Leo was left to chip away at the faint hope heâd kept that it wouldnât happen again. It always happened. People always left, but Hakyeon left to come back again, and then repeat it until Leo had nothing left.
He could give nothing more. His hands shook, but there was no way to settle them. Folding them around his slim frame did little to hide it. He could hide again. It wouldnât be hard. All he had to do was lie and gather up the pieces, take them back before Hakyeon stole them again.
Lying hurt. Pushing away the same questions nearly choked him. Are you safe? Are you alright? Why did you leave again? Is there nothing here you want to stay for? If there is⌠am I not part of it?
Leo looked Hakyeon in the eyes and searched for an answer. Implored him for an explanation. There was no point. Not anymore. âIf youâre going to leave again,â he said, lies cascading from his mouth, âDo not come back. Just⌠just let it end.âÂ
âMaybe it was just never meant to be.â
Hakyeon couldnât blame him, he knew he was at fault. Heâs the one who left. Heâs the one who became close to Leo just to keep disappearing. But it didnât stop him from feeling the blow of Leoâs words. As if all the air left his lungs in one fell swoop, Hakyeon was left breathless. As much as he wanted to, he didnât allow himself to advert his eyes from Leo. He had to take this. Whatever Leo wanted to say or do, it was warranted.Â
âIâm selfish,â Hakyeon said. Heâd be quick. Leoâs body language making it obvious how much Hakyeon had hurt him. âI actually came back to say goodbye,â he kept his voice steady, but the underlying fear of after haunted him, âThis will be the last time you see me. I should have done this sooner but...,â he trailed off, finally averting his eyes to look down at his hands.Â
He hadnât known what would be worse, leaving things off with no closure or coming back to end it- whatever it was. He wished he had stayed away. He knew from the start that thing wouldnât end well. This had always been a possibility.Â
âNo sorry will be enough and when you see the real me youâll be glad Iâm gone.â Hakyeon stood up from the bench. When he looked at Leo again his lips pulled up into a smile. âBye, Leo.â
@pularuk
he breathed deeply, the scent of magic wafting reminding him of an incense his mother used to burn, like spiced sandalwood. âi would like to be asleep in this universe, honestly,â he murmured, looking to the young witch before him. a ghost stood behind the boy, his eyes hollow and sad while he bemoaned his lost life. yoongi wondered if he brought him with him on purpose, but then figured he probably didnât even know. witches always had ghosts attached to them. it was a byproduct of their magic. âbut i have too much on my mind. and you are too loud, if iâm to be perfectly frank.â yoongi spoke with a faint smile, though â there was something kind about the boy, even with the terribly sad ghost behind him.Â
âI am loud but my voice is so soothing,â Taehyung tried to smooth his voice out but only made it deeper. He laughed at himself but was cut off when the ghost let out a cry. He jumped and turned around. âWait your turn,â he scolded. When the ghost went quiet he flashed it a smile before turning back to the tome that sat on his lap. The ghost glanced at Yoongi and went quiet. âHave you tried using magic to help?â Taehyung flipped to the next page and skimmed it with furrowed brows. âI know a few potions that could work...and I have most of the ingredients...but would it react well to a shifter?â his voice trailed off into a mumble as he quickly flipped through the tome.Â
pularuk:
he knows. he knows hakyeon is sorry, and maybe thatâs what hurts him the most, that there is regret in his voice and yet nothing could be done about it. jimin follows his gaze to the kitchen around them; itâs familiar to them both, where they had spent so much time together, but he focuses once again on the oldest with a heavy heart. time had taken itâs toll on them both. âyou arenât the only one.â but hakyeon probably already knows that, too. it just makes jimin feel better to say that out loud.
âwhat would you have changed? what⌠what could i have done ââ to keep you here. he swallows, and finds he canât bring himself to get any closer. if he does, hakyeon might run away again. and this time, he might not come back.Â
âif you didnât want to leave, why didnât you come back sooner?â he asked softly, stepping aside to sit on the kitchen counter. âeven if it was because of jin hyung and jungkook, you have â mm. you have a life here. had?â jimin sighs, kicking the cabinets lightly to some rhythm that keeps him distracted for a moment. âit was hard without you. no one would stop by here for a while. kept thinking you would come back.â his thoughts are disconnected, his head a mess of things he wanted to say but didnât know how, so again he sighs, and collects himself.Â
he looks up to hakyeon again, the streetlights making this whole transaction as hazy as a dream. what if jimin wakes up, and learns it never happened? his hands clench on the countertop, and is glad to find itâs firm under his short fingers. âyou didnât answer my question earlier. what will you do now?â thereâs a deep set fear that he knows the answer to this one, too, but he wants to hear it from hakyeonâs mouth.
All words unspoken began to pile up along the kitchen tiles. He could see them hide underneath the counters. Hakyeonâs, Jiminâs, and he could practically hear them. Their thoughts seemingly loud enough on their faces to echo along the edges. He wished he couldnât.Â
âI donât know. I donât know if there was anything anyone could have done,â his words come out in a whisper. His eyes heavy on the ground as his mind played with fantasies that he long since repressed. So many things could have gone different-he often lamented the lost chances that lead him to this point. âIt was all my faults, no one is to blame but me.â His fault, his fault, his, everything and he couldnât even redeem himself. There was a beat of silence as Hakyeon pulled himself out of his own head. Jimin wanted answers.Â
âMy life...I never let it be mine,â he replied as matter-of-factly, âI always wanted to live for myself but really Iâm living for other people. For so long I was only alive for Seokjin. I took care of myself because I had to take care of him. We had our mission but...without him, I probably wouldnât have lived for this long.â Hakyeonâs eyes drifted up to stare as the blank, blue space on the wallpaper. The night lights framed the window and Hakyeonâs hands itched. Another fault, and he opened his mouth to admit more. âThen I started to live for you too. I didnât want to leave you alone. It made me think about what I would have been like without Jin and...â he trailed off and looked Jimin in the eye, âI wanted you both to be happy. Then you both found that happiness in each other and-â Hakyeon felt his throat close in with suddenly emotion. He hadnât realized his eyes became glassy and he hated himself for it. âI wasnât needed anymore.â There was more. There was so much more but his throat burned and his eyes hurt and regret filled his stomach.
Hakyeon inhaled deeply. Control, control, he needed to control himself. He fidgeted and turned away from Jimin. One hand drummed fingers along the counter while the other ran through his hair. It was still there in his nails. His stomach churned violently. His fingers moved quicker. âI donât know,â Hakyeonâs voice edged pleading, but pleading for what? He doesnât want to know. âWhat I want to do and what I should do. What I want doesnât matter. I shouldnât have come back.â
jiho scoffs, kneeling beside mimi with an expression fraught with worry and annoyance. âyou dumbass.â
Mimi shoots a heated glare Jihoâs way but the effect isnât as strong as her body continues to shiver uncontrollably. âY-y-you were th-the one,â her teeth clattering didnât stop the annoyance from slipping through, âwho was w-walking to-towards a ghost.â She folds up into the fetal position in an attempt to stop her insides from shaking as well. Passing through a ghost could have many side-effects, from a slight chill to full on possession depending on their power, and had Mimi no magic sheâd be possessed by Yun Seondo-or whoever that ghost was. Thanks to her magic she feels as if sheâs freezing from the inside out instead-on a summer day no less. Cold runs from the tips of her fingers down to her very core. The constant tremors in her muscles wear her out quicker than any winter has before. âF-fuck, it h-hurts.âÂ
Injured/Injury Starters
Injured
âOh shit, are you alright?â
âDude, I donât think youâre alright.â
âBloodâs not supposed to be coming from thereâŚâ
âThat looks broken.â
âCan you move your __?âÂ
âAre you okay?â
âThat doesnât look good.â
âWho did this?â
âDid you do this to yourself?â
âHow did this happen?â
âWe need to get you to a hospital.â
âDo you need to go to a hospital?â
âThatâs not supposed to bend that way.â
âDo you want me to look at it?â
âDonât move, youâll make it worse!â
âStop moving!â
âThereâs so much blood.â
âIâll see if I have a first aid kit.â
âJust⌠Stay here and Iâll get help.â
âHow did you even do this?â
âThis happened in a fight?â
âWalk it off.â
âItâs not that bad.âÂ
âI think you need stitches.â
âYou dumbass.âÂ
Injury
âI think I hurt myself.â
âI canât feel my __.â
âI think my __ is broken.â
âShit, that hurts to move.â
âI donât think I can get up.â
âIâm going to try to get up.â
âCan you go get help?âÂ
âI need help.â
âI think Iâm going to pass out.â
âI donât think thereâs supposed to be that much blood.â
âItâs not that bad.â
âI got [shot, stabbed, etc].â
âI canât walk.â
âI donât think I need to go to a hospital.â
âI think I need to go to the hospital.â
âStop laughing, this hurts.â
âMy last words better not be stupid.â
âThat was a dumb idea.â
âShit, that burns.â
âIâm fine⌠really.â
âDamn, I canât get the bleeding to stop.â
âI got into a fightâŚâ
âI feel lightheaded.â
âIt hurts to move.â
âCan you look at it for me?âÂ
                                                               ( poem by çă ä¸ )                                           Multimuse. Lit. OC+AU.                             hakyeon // mimi // taehyung // yoongi                                    (cardcaptor yoongi muse call)
pularuk:
his shoulders sagged as he waited, perhaps he had been too hopeful for a proper answer from the one who disappeared. would it have been better if it were jin who found him in the shop, not the fallen? jiminâs expressionless face focused on hakyeon, letting him take the time to form whatever words he deemed jimin worthy of hearing.Â
meanwhile, he studied the man before him in the poor light; the room was dark, it hid the tiredness on his face, but jimin knew it well. there was a nervous air to hakyeon, and that had no remedy that he could offer from where he stood. it wasnât right, but jimin wished â
âi wonât.â it was a whispered promise, and with a sigh jimin broke eye contact to to pick up the keys, taking his own time to piece together just what this meant. â⌠but then, why are you here, hyung? if not to see jin hyung.â he pocketed them, and took one step forward. inching closer, barely, slowly. âwe⌠wondered where you went. i⌠couldnât ask.âÂ
it had to do with the demon, didnât it? he wanted to voice his question, but all jimin had seen was pain on jinâs face for months after hakyeon had left. there were times where the sadness lingered even after, but what could he have done? search for hakyeon, who clearly didnât want to be found? time would heal the wounds, he knew, but that didnât stop jimin from wondering what if he went looking, what if he went out of his wayâŚ
âare⌠you back?â his voice is soft again, and he canât quell the hope that this was going to be something of a regular thing again. that hakyeon wouldnât go so far away, where jimin couldnât find him again. âor is this just⌠goodbye, again?â
The day piled up to be too much. Hakyeon could still feel earlier under his fingernails and the red that smeared on the frame mocked him. The frame that sat in perfect view behind Jimin. Jiminâs face, Jimin's eyes, Jimin's voice, Jimin being in the house now, it made him want to throw up. Anemone petals ripped out of his lungs and used to decorate the space between their feet.
âIâm sorry.â He was. Leaving, disappearing, was his choice and he knew who it would hurt. Even if he thought that in the end it was the best for them, it would still hurt. He watched Jimin step closer but didn't move. He trusts him. âI'm not sure why I came here.â His eyes trailed away from Jimin to look around the kitchen. The plotted flowers still sat in the windowsill. The random assortment of magnets littered the refrigerator. A worn photo of the three of them hung proudly in the middle. âI just...missed it. For years I made my life here. I just turned 27 and-â Hakyeon stopped himself and pressed his lips into a tight line.
Jimin's voice sung with hidden hope. Anemone petals tickled Hakyeonâs throat.
âI don't know.â He looked back at Jimin. He wanted to be selfish. âI didn't plan to come back. This whole day was suppose to be different. Had it gone right it wouldn't be possible for me to be here. Instead I would have-â For the second time in a row Hakyeon had stopped himself. His hands itched. Regret lived in his fingernails. âI didn't want to leave.â
cr: AndVixx ⥠please do not edit.
pularuk:
in theory, the plan was to have a chill night out, to forget his worries and woes, but jimin has long since learned that things seldom go as desired.Â
heâd left his jacket at jinâs some time back, and while he was in the area he figured he should pick it up. it was convenient, after all. yet as he approached the doorway, he noticed that it was slightly ajar, letting him see inside the flower shop that made itâs home on the ground floor of the apartment. jin was elsewhere, though, jimin had asked; the key sat in his hand, ready to be used. the fallen proceeded inside with caution, his steps light and slow as he traversed the familiar store.
the sound of running water caught his attention, ah, it was towards the back. staying in the shadows, jimin tread around a shelf and there stood a figure, lithe and familiar. they were similar in height, in build, even, and jimin could not place just where heâd seen it from until heâd edged closer.Â
the keys clattered onto the floor, disbelief flooding his system. after all this time, could that person truly be the hakyeon heâd missed? he never had the courage to ask seokjin the whereabouts of the oldest, knowing their falling out had been hard and deeply rooted in problems beyond him, but that never meant that jimin never wondered.Â
months. heâd waited months to see him. his throat constricted of a thousand things he wanted to say, leaving him to croak out a tiny, âhyung,â his voice so small it could have been a whisper of a child. so shocked was he, that jimin was frozen to the spot on the floor, the dim streetlights illuminating hakyeonâs figure solemnly. âhyungâŚâ he tried again, brows pulled together as his hands balled into fists by his side. does he open his arms in hopes of a hug? hakyeon always hated being touched â âwhere have you been?â
Keys shattered him from his thoughts. A grinding halt on his self-destructive mind. Hakyeon whipped around. His heart jumped up from his chest then shot down to his feet. He knew it was possible. When he decided to come he knew someone could find him but seeing Jimin in front of him was different. Seeing his face, hearing his voice-Hakyeon knew he hurt Jimin but he wanted to comfort him. He wanted to sooth the tension out of his hands and apologize.
Hakyeon took a step then hesitated.
âJimin...â His voice trailed off. What could he say? The truth sat heavy in his gut while lies settled on the back of his throat. Both would hurt. Neither was a safe choice. His eyes moved to look just to the side of Jimin. âI-,â Another pause until words tumbled out, âNo one was suppose to find me.â He rubbed his wet hands against his jeans. âI wanted-I mean, you arenât.â Hakyeon closed his eyes tightly and sighed in frustration. He was usually so good with his words, but itâs been months since heâs spoken to someone heâs known. He had never been alone for so long. Not since-
The frustration, at himself, at his situation, made him want to walk away, but Jimin didnât deserve that. He didnât deserve Hakyeon leaving for months without a word either. Jimin hadnât done him wrong. Jimin didnât poke at sore spots. Jimin never pushed Hakyeon to speak-to action.
âIâve been hiding.â The truth felt like relief but made his nails dig into his jeans. He let out a deep breath and looked Jimin in the eye.âFrom everyone but-but mostly Jin. Please donât tell him you saw me tonight.â He couldnât hold back on the pleading tone in his voice. Not yet, he couldnât see Seokjin just yet. Or maybe ever. Did Seokjin deserve that? Probably not.
The night air stuck to his skin. It was thick, heavy, as it laid on his shoulders, pushing him down onto the reality of the situation. Months have past since he last saw this house. The front was still covered in bright, healthy flowers but they showed the change of seasons. His chest ached to see them all thriving in the night. Inside was dark, all the windows pitch black. If it weren't for the flowers one would think the house was abandoned.
He took a step closer. The stairs under him creaked. He stood still and kept his eyes on a window. No lights, nothing appeared between the curtains, so he continued. The key still clicked the front door open and caused a wistful smile. Of course he wouldn't change it.
The smell of familiar flowers wrapped around him, a homecoming that lodged itself in his throat. Swallowing kept nothing down. He moved between the begonias whose petals caressed his cheek. Something dripped from his hand and onto the floorboard.
Once he was inside the house it was hard to keep his hands still. It was as if he had never left. The pictures of them that lined the walls, Mario figures across the TV stand, cases with his favorite dramas stacked on the floor-closest to him was a photo their grandmother had taken. Seokjin was mid-toss of a snowball and Hakyeon pulled his hood up with a grin. A huge snowball fight happened afterwards but ended in hot chocolate. Their first winter together. He let out a chuckle but it cracked into a choked sob. His shoulders hunched over as he brought his hands up to his face. He stopped himself.
Red.
Red dyed the skin on his hands. Red was embedded in his fingernails. Red streaked across the frame.
Why couldn't he get this right?
In the darkness he stumbled over to the kitchen sink. Cold water ran over his hands. The red bled off his skin and down the drain, but yet the color clung. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed-but it hid under his nails with determination. The sink shut off with more force than necessary and his sigh was shaky.
A chill up his spine told him that this was a mistake.