#jongdaewrites

[lxtent]

THE KOREA TIMES: "1 Million dancer killed while on shift in random tea brewery robbery."

Break my muse in 15 words or less

Leo’s eyes darted over the paper, barely taking in the blur of black and white. It was all grey to him. Nothing stood out. He didn’t make the connection until a minute or so later.

He read over the headline again. A dancer... tea brewery... Having been so wrapped within his own world of designing, making his own stories out of paper and ink and lead, he had not read others stories in a while. The writing felt foreign to him, as though he was reading a language that he could pronounce, but had no comprehension of. A dancer killed. A dancer in a tea brewery.

The scent of tea filled his mind then; a subtle fragrance in the late hazy heat of an afternoon, the cup propped up on someone’s leg, dangerously close to tipping along with the slowly falling head of that someone drifting off. Someone with nimble limbs and firm thighs. Someone with a kind smile, endlessly giving. “Here hyung, I brought you this one to try today.”

“Hwanki,” Leo breathed that someone's name. A dancer, someone who knew about tea, someone who knew about him... No, no, no...

His delicate fingers carved into the black and white ink. The headlines crumbled with the action and succumbed to rips and tears at the edges, deeper and deeper until they began to fracture the letters. Not that destroying them would matter. It would be better. This was not true. Leo’s mind had simply leapt and fallen in the wrong place. This was not Hwanki. Hwanki was likely at home right now, tucked up with Peaches and Bucheu.  That was the only way he could imagine him. He would not allow any other thought of him... of him...

Dead. Leo’s mind filled in the unbidden word, apparently unaware of its power. Hwanki could not be dead. He had not been killed. It could not be true.

A crushing weight fell onto his chest. Leo tried to take a breath and found that air was insufficient in calming him. His hands shook; the paper was an utter mess, quiver in his hands, rips and tears littered throughout its words. This was no proof. These were just words and words were the easiest lies to tell. Before he knew what he was doing, Leo had his phone in his hand, searching for Hwanki’s number and pressing call.

It rang. That was the only good sign. When it kept ringing, Leo felt the weight drop to his feet. It rang constantly until it stopped ringing, and Leo tried again. “Please... answer...” 

How could he receive an answer when there was no one left to give it? Somehow, logic managed to take over; cold, shuttered logic, containing his emotions within to keep them from leaking out. He dropped the paper, ignoring the startled head turns of the small number of people close to him, and headed out the door.

Not Hwanki. People should not die like this, their threads cut in the middle without another say. What could he do? What could anyone like him do? He was the one that was left behind, always hurting those around him. His vision blurred, breath ragged, begging for one more lie rather than a truth. 

[lxtent]

- for @jongdaewrites

Scraps stained the floor in a disarray of black and white; all that was left of the newspaper that had torn him to pieces much more easily that Leo had been able to with it.

And yet it was just paper. Only soft, fragile paper that ripped in a jagged line. Clean. Easy. But it did not feel that way. 

He had needed some sort of physical proof. The name had been tossed around in easy discussion so often over the past few days that Leo had distanced it from the events that trailed after it.  He’d separated them through sheer force of will. Or perhaps he was instead numb to it. He did not remember making the choice to ignore it until he could no longer run away. But that is what he did.

Death and Hwanki were not meant to be equated.

In Leo’s eyes, they could not be. But here was the scattered proof - the final warning. Leo’s back remained pressed against the door, the very door he could no longer dare to open. It was cold. Cold, the sheer force of it akin to ice, threaded its way through his veins. He could not move. He could not stand even if he wanted to.

Not Hwanki. Not him.

Never him. Never someone with as much life, as much love pouring out of him, pulling others to him, like gravity, like an aura that could not be ignored. Not him. 

It was Leo’s fault. Leo raised his hands, staring it his marked palms. The hands of a killer. They were littered with paper cuts, proof that the paper was indeed stronger than it looked, and they were as pale as death they caused. He could scarcely breathe, scarcely think. There was nothing left to do. He had, by some way, killed Hwanki too. Like the others. Whether the blood was on his hands or not, it didn’t matter. He had known them. They had died. He was a plague, a virus, draining away what tethered them to life until there was nothing left.

Leo pressed his palms to his eyes and tried to get rid of the images flashing through his mind. Hwanki laughing, picking up Peaches and idly scratching behind the cat's ears. The day he had spotted Leo adrift after coming back from visiting his parents, asking him to come home with him. A sanctuary. All gone. All of it was gone, gone, gone. White bursts bloomed behind his eyelids in the dark, sparked by the pressure of his hands.

Then, he let them drop. His knees pulled upwards, Leo folding himself in, making himself small. His eyes couldn’t adjust to the dim light. He could see. But he could see too much.

Hwanki stood at the foot of Leo’s bed. He looked real. He breathed slowly, much slower than Leo could. Under his feet, the desecrated newspaper moved very softly, as though a breeze had stolen into the closed off room. Leo could not bring himself to question it. He was dead, and then suddenly he was there. 

Another ghost. Just another ghost for him to beg to.

His hands curled on top of his knees.“How could you die,” Leo whispered and his voice carried some of the ice from his veins, blank and cold and desperate. “You were not meant to die. You cannot leave, you- You cannot die at my hands.”

Ah. The selfish nature with which he had become well acquainted was certainly not gone then. Leo heard it pooling in the ends of his sentences. He wanted- No. He wanted, but he could not have.

“I didn’t want you to die, Hwanki. I thought you weren’t close enough. The people who become close to me get hurt. They leave and the die. It’s always been that way. But you weren’t meant to.” Hurt and betrayal filled his eyes, Leo looking up at the vision of his friend that his mind so cruelly conjured for him to face. “Why did you die like that? So quick and distant... I wasn’t even aware of it. You were there and now you’re gone. Now you- you’re here.”

They were one and the same, were they not? Gone. Here. With or without. Leo did not want to will him away. If his mind wanted to pretend he had never left, so be it. One more soul to feel the burden of. “You can’t leave,” he repeated. To give in. To give up. What was the difference? The voice in his head, telling him to take and life to keep that life from being lived away from him. He let in rear up inside him, fill him up to stop the void growing even faster. “You cannot leave if you are not real.”

[lxtent]

∞ ( Hwanki )

Send ∞ to me and I’ll shuffle my itunes and the first six songs will be our muses playlist

♬ A Little Bit Longer - Jonas BrothersLove Lost - Yoko Shimomura, Final Fantasy XV ostStarlight - Taylor SwiftApocalypsis Noctis - Yoko Shimomura, Final Fantasy XV ostDiary - GugudanVague Hope - Keiichi Okabe, Nier: Automata ost

[lxtent]

SEND ‘🔺’ + A COLOR FOR A COLOR BOARD OF OUR MUSES

❀ Hwanki and Leo - Dusty Rose  ❀ @jongdaewrites

“This is my curse The pain of killing a promise But for throwing away my very last dream, I will atone

And so we right now, even though it's worthless, I still cry out. Even though it's meaningless, I still wish For more time together with you.”

[lxtent]

starrdew replied to your post “THE KOREA TIMES: "1 Million dancer killed while on shift in random tea...”

BLU CAN YOU FCKING NOT

jongdaewrites replied to your post “THE KOREA TIMES: "1 Million dancer killed while on shift in random tea...”

ASLGHASLG I'M (NOT) SORRY THANH

[ Also not sorry. Pls accept my pain and suffering, I offer it with great affection ^^ ]

[lxtent]

✥, ❃, Ω ( AU ) + Hwanki

Acts of Affection

✥ Play fighting!

He was not doing this now. Leo needed coffee. He needed coffee like he needed air to breath, like he needed to feel thread wrapped around his fingertips when he could not concentrate. Hwanki, for all intents and purposes, was being absurd. It was understandable. Refusing Leo coffee was, Leo assumed, mostly for Leo’s own benefit. But to go as far as to attempt to take it back from him?

“Wh-What are doing?” Leo asked, a vague air of panic tumbling over his words. He clutched the warm cup of coffee to his chest, leaning back on Hwanki’s sofa. If he spilt even one drop, Leo would not be taking responsibility. Coming here early necessitated a latte. It was not so much the caffeine he relied upon anymore but the taste; sweet and warm, slightly bitter. Always slightly bitter. He would not have that with tea. Hwanki’s tea was better than most - Leo would often only drink tea that had been approved by him, as proven by the slowly waning box of tea he had back at his apartment. But this was one step too far. Hwanki’s hand reached across his face to try and reach the now concealed paper cup. Leo moved into outward, and sadly away from him, with one hand, his long arms and slender fingers for once an advantage.

Leo gave a soft huff, one that was almost, dare he think it, amused. His other hand stayed still, moving only when Hwanki leant even further towards him to poke him just under his ribs. “Stop… it will spill,” Leo whined. Far from the stoic mask he usually wore, he began desperate tactics. Very carefully, so as not to spill the precious latte, Leo lifted his feet and curled up his legs, leaving him at the right angle to push at Hwanki’s hip. 

Maybe it was the coffee protection plan. Or maybe, Leo would quietly admit, it was because he didn’t want to be too forceful. But needless to say, Leo sacrificed his coffee good-naturedly when Hwanki was all but laying across him and the soft sound of Leo’s laughter interrupted his complaints.

❃  Mussing their hair or tugging at their clothes (a hat, sleeve, etc.)

Leo kept his strides in sink with Hwanki’s. e focused on their footsteps to match them up - not too slow, not too fast. It mattered to him, that he could walk beside the other without much thought. Unfortunately, he was using a little more thought than he wanted to.

He felt a tug on his sleeve half way through measuring his pace, tugging him just a gently from his reverie. “Mm?” he hummed, glancing upward. Hwanki was pointing something out to him in the distance, eyes bright and animated. Leo followed his hand with his eyes, briefly looking in the direction Hwanki indicted. Was it the cherry blossoms in the distance he meant to draw Leo’s attention to? The dark clouds shrouding the street just beyond? Leo wasn’t sure. Not when his focus returned to Hwanki and he found himself marvelling at the person beside him instead.

How could this… this friendship be so tangible? How could Hwanki sit beside him one day on a half empty bus and be walking beside him the next? How did he reach out and offer Leo his hand time and time again, only for Leo to never quite be enough in return? He looked down at the hand still gripping onto his sleeve. His shirt was rolled up past his elbow. It gave Hwanki more leverage in the end.

“We can simply walk over there…” His suggestion trailed off, leaving Hwanki the option of letting it go unacknowledged. But he had little luck of that happening. Leo hid his smile, practised as he was, but let himself be tugged away nonetheless.

Ω Running a hand over their collar bone or décolleté [ AU Version ]

Leo breathed softly into hollow silence. He could hardly remember falling asleep. He could barely recall the moment he awoke either. The light flutter of a breeze scattered across his cheeks, cold against his warm skin. His legs were curled to fit within the confines of the sofa. Every limb of his body felt heavy, dragged down into the fabric by a weight pressing down on him and he couldn’t shake it. Like the sleep that clung to his eyes and held them closed, he couldn’t push the darkness out of his way. 

But it was okay. It was okay when the weight heavy against his body was partly not his own. A warm presence against him. A steady breathing in tandem with his own.

Leo lifted a hand, tested the movement of his fingers by filtering the light that shone through his eyelids. Flickers of shadow appeared. It was faint but there. He would open his eyes soon. To prove this is real. Sleeping in the dark amidst morning light. Were his shadows noticeable to the warmth next to him?

Perhaps there was no need to question it. There was no need to question whether this was real or not; what did it matter, either way? He would awaken by himself, the warmth not a person, the breaths just the echoes of his own pulse in his ears. What would it matter? Being alone was better for him... for everyone...

He moved his fingers again. They curled into his palm and Leo felt his own fingertips against his skin. Open your eyes.  His lashes parted, the light dull enough to be bearable. It was bearable, waking up alone when his mind had convinced him there was a memory of the day before still beside him.

Fingertips turned into fingernails, cutting crescents into his palms instead of featherlight touches. This was how it was. This was the solitude he had carved out for himself and he would fit himself into the empty spaces. This was...

His breathing stilled. This was soft fingertips in contrast to sharp nails. He could feel them, and the breaths he thought he heard before now felt soft against his neck. Leo shut his eyes tight, so tight colours blossomed behind his eyelids. If he looked and no one was there, he would unravel. The fingers brushed across his shoulder as if searching. When they touched the skin at Leo’s neck, the edge of his collarbone, they stilled, repeated the motion. Tilting his head to the side, Leo opened his eyes once more to brightness.

“Hwanki...” he whispered. The other did not disappear with the word. He did not disappear at all.

[jongdangel-archive]

for @jongdaewrites

“We’re soaring, flying~! There’s not a star in heaven that we won’t reach!”

Jongdae sings in accented English as best he possibly can at the top of lungs, with the indubitable notion that he sounds exactly like Troy Bolton and nothing like a cacophony of howling hyenas (which he indeed, does sound like). It doesn’t matter though, he’s determined to give his boyfriend, who’s currently covering his ears and rolling his eyes dramatically, the show of a lifetime. 

“We’re breaking free!”

He thrusts his hand outward to Hwanki and when the other merely stares at him with a bemused expression, Jongdae huffs and grabs the other’s hand and tugs him off the couch, dancing freely in the middle of their small living room with nothing but smiles and laughter. 

“More than you, more than me, not a want, but a need! Both of us, breaking free!”

His voice lilts dangerously, and Jongdae comes a half of an octave within cracking and he can’t help but bursting into laughter and promptly scaring Peach into darting into the kitchen. He can’t help it if his singing is just too good to be true, but these thoughts flutter from sight as he plops down onto the couch beside Hwanki, sprawling himself out across his boyfriend’s lap with a lazy smile.

“So, what’d you think? I definitely could have taken Troy on in a singing contest,” he grins, to which Hwanki gives him a slap on the ass his a chuckle building in his own throat. 

“In your dreams, babe.”

[lxtent]

“i don’t care what anyone else says, you make me happy.” ( hwanki )

angsty relationship starters

People said this all the time. They said it like the opinion of others was nothing but light rays against a reflective screen, like they could be defended against. A stain that bled into clothing could always be removed, they seemed to say. But Leo was not so reflective. Leo was the dark fabric that never showed the stains, and so you could never see that they were removed. 

Hwanki couldn’t think like that. No matter what he said.

So why did it cause Leo’s breath to catch, a startle so subtle it was hardly even a flinch. Did Hwanki notice it? He noticed many things Leo wanted to keep hidden from him. Of course, he did.

So then how could Leo make him happy? Leo pulled his knees up to his chest in a defensive posture, his toes curling up. “But if they keep saying it?” he mumbled into his knees, his chin now propped against them. He was avoiding Hwanki’s gaze.

His example was not the most serviceable: some people would run from him. They would know his secrets and would not take a chance on them remaining hidden. Why would Hwanki believe anything different? They would look at them and see people who could not be more different. They would tell Hwanki to stay away from Leo. Stay away from the shadows.

Hwanki was stubborn. Leo smiled softly. “You should care. You should. People... what they say can be right.” Or horrifically wrong. It just so happened that one day, someone might see right through him. They would not just notice - they would make certain that Hwanki had every reason to be distraught at knowing him.

“Hwanki, please promise me that...” A pause. Asking for a promise was rich coming from Leo. He hurried to erase his words. “No. N-no, do not promise anything. Just... know that I’m happy with you too.”