❮ smoke & mirrors ❯ @smxsiu-blog - Tumblr Blog

♟ » good boy

smyooseok:

if yooseok were not at work, or out making bets or having fun, he could be found in one place. his body stretched out across the couch, one arm tucked behind his head and the other hand pinching a cigarette as he burned out the inside of his lungs with nicotine. his eyes glazed over as he watched the television, let the glow flicker on his skin and absorb it like they were rays of sunshine that he needed to survive. yooseok’s mind was dull and empty as he watched, a sort of unconscious state that left his cigarette burning until it was singeing his fingers. a fact he didn’t notice until there was the sound of the door and those footsteps.

his eyes darted to siu as soon as he was in view, blindly extending his arm to put out the cigarette as he followed the way the younger sashayed his way past blocking out the view of the television for moments and plucking yooseoks mind, tugging on those proverbial strings, like he were a puppet. every dash of skin he saw flushed a tinge of hot fresh blood through his veins. no matter what he had expected when the took the small boy in, he hadn’t expected him to grow so tall, to become something fleshly and desirable.

even when he knows that siu knows what he’s doing, yooseok likes to believe he’s the one in control, that he still holds the power in their dynamic. that siu knew his place – “pet,” was a low threat, like he were about to scold the other for blocking his view, for turning up under his gaze, for not dressing appropriately; something that had irritated yooseok’s senses. he wanted the other to be on edge, to question what will happen, to feel like it could go either way. “come here,” he adds, one hand coming up to pat his lap; open palm tapping against his thigh and eyes darting over towards siu, only to catch sight of that look. the smooth curve of his nose, the pout of his plush lips, the coy lick in his black lashes.

it’s important not to let his gaze linger, to look back at the television like he did not doubt or question that his order would be followed; that reassured confidence of knowing siu would bend to whatever whim yooseok had. instead, he would wait to hear those footsteps draw closer and the weight to fill his lap. how such a beautiful thing bends to his wants, folds over, curls into his grasp because it knows no better. yooseok liked to believe he had thoroughly tempered siu into who and what he was.

the sound of yooseok’s voice washes over him like velvet; like smooth satin sliding over bared skin. it’s an unspoken promise, a growl that’s supposed to put him on edge, but does nothing more than make his skin flush with anticipation, with expectations of what’s about to come. siu is insatiable in his hunger and he loves eating away at yooseok. every bite from the foul fruit, every sip of the poisonous wine, leaves him craving more. as if a gaping hole had been opened where siu’s innocent soul had once rested and he had decided to fill it with the soiled, the tainted. when he turns, everything is just like expected. yooseok’s eyes meet his for a short second before the ghoul is looking away, preserving his control and saving the seat on his throne for himself and himself alone. siu’s place was at his feet and he was supposed to know, not question. the soft pat on yooseok’s thigh is a command, like siu was nothing but a dog, and the action would have possibly felt more humiliating had siu not gotten so used to it, already. he turns, easily, follows the beckoning of the devil and allows the warm fabric of his blanket to fall as his feet carry him to the couch. the air around yooseok felt even colder than his room did; death had been a fear inducing concept growing up so when had siu learnt to enjoy playing with it this much? long limbs straddle yooseok’s hips, siu’s body curling and folding like he’s actually the ghoul’s pet, like an obedient house cat that presses against his chest and noses at his neck. the purr is missing, but siu’s hands make up for it by pressing beneath yooseok’s shirt, warm fingertips meeting the cold skin and siu suppresses a pleased, little shudder. “master.” it’s a single word, a meek plea for the ghoul’s touch, his attention. yooseok probably enjoyed the height of power he got every time siu acted that way — ever the subservient and submissive pet.

#( p: goodboy )#smyooseok #possibly nsfw??#there's mentions of nudity idk

msuspence

.colorful

Jungmin laughs a little too loudly for the quiet of the street, but no one is out here. He’s got the hedonistic, rowdy nature going for him tonight and he’s going to run with it.

It started out like usual. Clubs, with his friends, playing knight and shooing men away until he got one too many drinks in him and he’s on some ratty side of the street with a pretty boy who’s name he doesn’t even know.

At some point, something is said about blood. Blood status or maybe just blood in general (he did take a tumble on the other side of the street, right into some glass of a broken bottle) and he could just be bleeding, but it’s fine.

Jungmin is too drunk for his own good and he’s fine.

“I don’t care where you come from, sweetheart.” He hooks a hand around the lightpost, sways a little and shoots a pretty smile. “I’m too drunk for all that hierarchy bullshit.”

@smxsiu

smxsiu-blog

the buzz of alcohol was thrumming through his blood, fingertips tingling with the pleasant daze that made the edges of his surroundings seem that bit more pleasant. siu found his victim for the night, though he is not yet sure if that was worth a celebration, or not. the young man tumbles and stumbles and mumbles something about blood that siu doesn’t catch. he’s too drunk and the teen feels the smallest hint of regret creep up as he attempts to catch the other’s wrist, take a look at his bleeding palm. “sweetheart? i bet you call all the pretty boys that.” he jokes subtly and shows the drunken stranger a smile when said stranger does the same. regret was already clouding his night, but regret was better than nothing, no feelings. he reaches for the stranger’s wrist again and manages to catch it, before pulling out his wand and muttering a quick spell to heal the broken skin. “truly, fuck the hierarchy,” whichever one the young man might have been speaking of, “and while i’m fully prepared to join your anarchic tumbling, i’d welcome knowing your name, at least. or is that a secret?” they hadn’t talked much and siu thinks his timing must have been bad; he tries to make the best out of it, anyway, pulls the other into a dark, small alley and pulls his body closer. “if you like secrets, i’ve got lots of those.”

#( answer. )#( p: colourful )#smjungmin

smsunhwa-blog

blood of kalliope

youth is a beautiful thing; it grants you glory and everything you want in the world if harnessed accordingly. one miscalculated move, and you might find yourself with a crown encrusted with thorns instead of jewelries.

but when the wrinkles start to decorate your skin and your body starts to lose its former vigor, you know it’s time to find a successor.

in her case, a ‘successor’ comes in the form of a boy with features too beautiful to be just ordinary. a pair of hands agile yet graceful when he touches the ivory of a piano in the grand hall. features so delicate sunhwa wonders if he’s made of porcelain- a complete opposite of the strengthened resolve that hardens his dark hues.

it was the umpteenth time that day that she turns to her side to fix his bowtie. the leather of the family’s car backseat suddenly uncomfortable to sit upon for ten minutes. it’s no longer a secret that sunhwa doesn’t fare well with anxiety. thus she deals with it by unleashing the perfectionist inside of her.

“i can’t believe i’m getting nervous for you,” she chuckles softly, fingers smoothing a stray strand of hair out of place. “although i doubt they could hate you after this.” she had asked her trusted make-up team to do their magic upon the boy, but thinking about it now perhaps a gel-styled hair would suffice for him.

“are you nervous?”

@smxsiu

smxsiu-blog

life had its very own, fixed patterns. like the threads of a spider’s web; no matter the species, they all were built with the same intent and functioned after the same principle. people weren’t any different. every action of his follows a reaction of the other and siu had learnt early on that whatever he said, the tone of his voice, subtle shift of muscles on his face, movement of his eyes — all of it bore consequences. some good, others bad. he had learnt his way with words and lips and fingers and learnt to tempt and lure and manipulate and, similar to the spider’s web, he also functioned on very fixed principles. sunhwa had other ideas. honey drips from the tip of his tongue; saccharine and thick and sticky, but no fly gets caught in his web. sunhwa finds it amusing, she finds him amusing. soothes over the cracks in his ego with a soft voice and softer smile and the words i’m married, siu like they’re supposed to hold any meaning to him. he doesn’t accept his defeat, but he accepts the shift. he doesn’t admit his inability to catch any flies around her, instead finds his own excuses about the beauty of rare butterflies and how devouring them is always much sweeter after one leans back to study them. his eyes catch the movement of delicate hands and he tilts his chin back before even feeling the warmth sunhwa’s skin radiates against his. she means well, but her nervousness is making him restless, making an uncontrollable storm settle in his guts and if there was one thing siu hated it was loss of control. “i’m never nervous.” he speaks softly, plush lips curving into a reassuring smile as he links his fingers with her’s. his touch is cool, like marble and he holds her gaze while bringing her hand up to his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss against the back of her fingers. “don’t worry, it will be fine. no matter if i perform in front of a roomful of drunken imbeciles or those rich folks in there, it’s all the same to me. that’s the beauty of music; you don’t need class to enjoy it.” he captures her hand in between his, lets them rest atop his thigh and shifts his attention back towards the road. they’re almost there and although siu feels a bit like a clown in the clothes he was wearing, the sum of money he would receive after the gala was more than enough to make up for it. “i hope you’ll still get to enjoy yourself with me, despite your nervousness.” the glance and grin he throws her way are cheshire, cheeky, “what is the money and the fame worth to me if my partner isn’t having a blast because of my performance?”

#( answer. )#smsunhwa #( p: blood of kalliope )#(this turned out kind of long........ oops)#(you dont have to match tho!!)

♟ » moonlight sonata

@smryun ❮ present day, evening ❯

there’s the hum of a song beneath his breath; bittersweet and melancholic. the breeze doesn’t carry it to ryun’s ears, but suffocates the soft melody somewhere between his throat and the tip of his tongue and siu thinks it’s a nice metaphor for all the thoughts he won’t share, all the secrets that die in his chest like diminishing stars.

the night is chilly; he toes off his shoes anyway, tip-toes closer to the water, grips the hem of his shirt in long fingers and pulls it over his head in a fluid motion. goosebumps spread across his skin, but the moonlight seems to illuminate it, makes his eyes twinkle and face shine ethereal when he glances over a round shoulder and towards ryun.

rose petal lips curl into a smile that’s equal amounts inviting and predatory; he’s a fox that has managed to lure the pure, white hare into a corner and he will take his time feasting upon the tender flesh.

there is not an ounce of shame in him. siu acts like he’s all alone on the beach when turns back and slips loose pants down slim hips, his underwear following seconds after. the eyes he feels on him are a welcome change after the rejection he had faced time and time again, but the boy does wonder what it was that ryun had expected to be met with when siu had talked him into a late night walk along the beach.

sea foam plays around his ankles with each small wave and siu only waits for ryun’s footsteps to be close enough, the crunching of sand to stop before he’s turning, moving to cover the distance and reaching dainty hands towards dark fabric. “i’ll help you out of those. you can’t go swimming fully dressed and there is no one around to see us, anyway.” almond eyes lift from where he had been pulling at ryun’s sweatshirt, to catch his eyes, his smile teasing. playful. daring. “you’re not shy, right?”

#( answer. )#( p: moonlightsonata )#smryun

smyooseok-deactivated20180220

♛ » bad dog

@smxsiu ( 13 YEARS AGO )

there were rules–three to be exact–one, don’t let any of the humans see you, two, don’t even try to escape and three, don’t piss yooseok off. the ghoul didn’t know why they were so difficult for the small boy to understand. with the sink clogged again, yooseok had needed to call in maintenance to get it fixed. in his own defence, if body parts and bones were not meant to be put in the drain, then they shouldn’t have fit through. it was a stupid system to let them through if they were not meant to get through. a costly thing to fix and an awkward explanation of being very into meat based foods. he’d told siu to stay in the bedroom, to not move, to not make a sound. he did not understand why that was so hard for the small human boy to get through his thick skull.

it took minutes of explaining that he was looking after the boy, he was family–’a nephew?’–yooseok had nodded his head in urgency to simply get the conversation of with. he’d already had to deal with the mans probing questions of his sink contents and the weird smell of bleach that riddled the apartment. all he wanted was the man out of his apartment now, away from the fact that the boy was dressed in hand-me-downs that were too big on his small frame. but it wasn’t yooseoks fault that what was easiest to steal was not the right size. he told the kid that the shirt was meant to fit like that and hoped he wouldn’t question why.

just like he didn’t want to answer the question of where his dog was when he had a dog bowl on a mat in his kitchen floor or the question of why the kids hair was chopped like yooseok had attacked him with scissors while he was sleeping. it wasn’t his fault he wasn’t a damn hair dresser. but now he was staring at the hair, at his pet, as he told him to stand in the corner and face the wall until yooseok was ready to deal with him. the cigarette pressed between his lips as he sat on the couch and watched the latest news broadcast with disinterest. a sigh rolling from his lips when he glanced at the time and realised it was nearly dinner.

“pet, come here–” he crooked his finger, and stamped his foot down on the floor in front of him, where he expected the boy to sit.

smxsiu-blog

siu didn’t understood much yet, but he understood that the monster man hated it when he didn’t do as told. it was difficult for siu to follow through with all of his orders sometimes and he wasn’t sure the monster man understood that. when he tells him not to be loud and not to cry, but nightmares and memories plague the small boy and he easily bursts into tears in moments of loneliness and fear. yooseok scares him; his dull eyes and blood dripping from his mouth, his fingers, soaking into his clothes. the crunching of bones haunts him late at night and he wants to go home, he wants to curl up in a bed far away from the house he’s locked in, but has nowhere to go. his mother left him that day and siu, although hopeful, doesn’t think she’ll come back for him. how would she be able to find him? she had no chance. people rarely ever visited the monster man and when they did, siu was forbidden from being seen. the man that’s working in the kitchen that day is a perfect example of freedom being close enough to touch, but very hard to reach. if he was seen the man might recognise that something was wrong. he might pick him up and carry him outside and bring him to people that knew his mother. he could have saved him - its those thoughts that make siu leave the bedroom, despite the shaking of his knees and tremble of his fingers. yooseok isn’t happy with him and siu can’t will his voice to say a single word and only remains still. frozen. staring. the man leaves and the boy is left with the monster again; all alone. he knows that something is coming. his stomach is queazy, uncomfortable as it ties into knots and bottom lip trembling pitifully as he cowers into a cold corner. his small shoulders are trembling, fingers twisted in the long material of the shirt he’s dressed in. siu doesn’t know much, but he knows that disobedience is followed by consequences - that much yooseok had taught him - and while those consequences varied, siu didn’t want to give up any of the small luxuriates he’s earned so far. the weather had changed, it had started to grow colder, and although a shirt didn’t give a lot of warmth, it was better than being naked. a mat was better than sleeping on the floor and food out of a bowl was better than a hurting stomach. a shiver runs down his spine when he hears yooseok address him and the boy fights a terrified, little sob. he curls small hands into tiny fists and wipes them over his eyes aggressively before turning to look at the monster man. he didn’t look angry - siu couldn’t tell what he looked like. his face didn’t show his thoughts, but the finger and stomp had been clear enough and with small and slow and unwilling steps, siu moves closer, narrows the distance between them. he sits with his legs folded beneath him and hands resting on his lap, head bowed. he doesn’t dare look up, too scared to meet yooseok’s eyes and recognise the emotions on his face. he doesn’t speak, knowing better than to cry and beg - it would only make yooseok angrier. so, siu waits.

#smyooseok #( answer. )#( p: baddog )#tw: child neglect #tw: blood #(?)

♟ » good boy

@smyooseok ❮ present day, late evening ❯

there was the rhythmical ticking of a clock, the even inhale and exhale, rise and fall of this chest. old and battered pages of a book that crinkled and crumbled whenever his fingers so carelessly turned them, an act petulant enough to fit the bored purse of full lips. the sun had set hours ago, the light in his room dim and siu had long since lost grasp for the words that hovered before his eyes; black ink against stained yellow parchment. he knows that yooseok is in the other room, just on the other side of the wall. he can feel him; taste his presence on the tip of his tongue like a sour, foul fruit that leaves behind an accidental taste and poison that runs through his veins. siu calls it acquired taste and reasons wine being little different as he pushes himself off the soft covers of his bed, carelessly drops the book atop his pillow. fall had just started and the inside of his room was chilly, fresh, prompting goosebumps to rise on bare, smooth skin. his fingers curl in the fabric of his blanket and he pulls it closer, wraps it around his shoulders to shield his body, keep its heat in a small cocoon around himself. yooseok is exactly where siu expects him to be when he walks over the threshold of his room. the soft murmur of the television is just a background noise and siu finds the man sprawled out on the couch, the smell of ash and smoke entering his nostrils as soon as his soft feet carry him closer on tip toes. he hadn’t come home last night and avoided leaving his room the whole day, but now he makes a scene to be noticed; walks past yooseok in between the coffee table and the couch, just to pass by close enough for the ghoul to notice bare skin flashing between the folds of the soft blanket, to take in his scent, to follow graceful movements with his eyes. siu knows the game, he’s played it often enough and he’s learnt how to get yooseok’s attention and keep it there, how to wrap the ancient monster around his pinky finger and watch him dance like a doll on a string. he prides himself in the knowledge of what would come next, of already hearing the deep and husky grown of ’pet’ and the softly beckoned ’come here’, before it even happens. he knows which way to look, how to throw that coy glance over a bare shoulder, curl his plush lips just the right way to make something in yooseok’s gut stir. siu knows. they’ve been there before. it’s a game they play and the teen was standing at the starting line, waiting with bated breath for the signal to start playing.

#( answer. )#( p: goodboy )#smyooseok #do u see what i did there #i love mirrored aesthetics