Discover Top Posts Tagged with #krxjieun

━ twisted fate

@krxjieun Kyungsoo walks in a fast pace down the corridor, pretending to know where he goes and each corner of the palace as if he’s been living there all of his life. He has always been good at hiding his intentions and keeping a poker face, so he supposes he can do that in this world as well.

He’s been hearing rumours, people talking about the third princess, which he hasn’t set his eyes on ever since he woke up in his new body. One of the maids have been going around with clean robes, back and forth from the princess’s room, so he inquires about all that fuss. She bows her head when she sees him and he has to admit that he likes the power that he holds against those of lower status or hierarchy.

The princess is being groomed. In a few days, she will be sent to her soon-to-be husband. He is from a different city and the agreement is merely political, he understands, mainly made to reinforce the power of the current king. She is just a bargaining chip and he is feeling bad for her.

Something compels him to stand outside of her room after sending the maid away. He’s not there to calm her or to make her feel better, but maybe that’s exactly what he’s there to do. “Princess? May I be allowed to enter?”

#krevent: goryeo #krxjieun

‘a thousand years’

@krxjieun

contrary to what he would want everyone around him to believe, taemin doesn’t actually have full and total control over the weather. it’s a bit of a myth that he’s concocted around himself, to have the others believe he can make rain and sunlight come and go as he pleases, it’s a nice trick and it keeps them in line as far as staying on the good side of his temper goes. and he does have a temper they definitely ought to stay on the correct side of, but he’s not quite as powerful as he once was, and he doesn’t have nearly as much control as he once did.

and it’s embarrassing, honestly. it’s definitely not anything he’s going to be owning up to any time soon, much too enamored with the image of himself the being pinnacle of strength and power, the way he is supposed to be. he’s not about to trip over the crown that badly, his pride would never let him admit a shortcoming of any kind. in reality, he can’t control the weather entirely—he can only just bring storms about. he can be in a good mood, a bad mood, asleep with a nightmare, deep in thought; anything really can trigger the storm and usually it’s a conscious desire that calls it. but he cannot make a sunny day, no matter how hard he tries.

and right now he would give anything in the world for a sunny day. not every storm that comes belongs to him, and no matter how unwanted it is, he can’t make it go away. fortunately, jieun doesn’t actually know about any of this, still blissfully unawakened and innocent. she sits across the picnic blanket from him, her face light, her hair prettily over one shoulder, munching on the tiny sandwiches he’d begged his secretary to make for him. he’s not the world’s worst cook, but he certain doesn’t know anything about picnic food, so when he’d suggested jieun come to one with him, it had been in a moment of panic.

or maybe delusion. or maybe some deep, internal need to see her with the sun on her face, surrounded by the nature she loves so much. he’s been constantly struck by her ever since they came out here, and now he’s chewing slowly just watching her while she watches everything else in the park they’re sitting in. there’s something about the air around her that feels calm and sweet and good, and if he just lets his mind wander, he can almost remember them having done something similar to this once before, a very, very long time ago, when there was more nature and more colors and dancing and music.

the world around them now however, is washed out and worn, the greyness setting into everything. there’s no sunlight today—even though it’s pretty warm—just overcast clouds that darken more and more with every passing minute. taemin can feel it in his bones; there’s a rainstorm brewing a few miles above them. but he doesn’t want to tell her about it or leave just yet—just a few more minutes, please? as long as she’s sitting there, looking breathtakingly pretty, he can at least pretend like things are fine and this isn’t the very image of him spiraling out of control and possibly damaging his relationship with his brother forever.

“how are the sandwiches?” he asks lightly, his voice quiet, his mind distracted. “lie to me, if you must.” and then he chuckles.

#krxjieun #| a thousand years |

‘monsters on the rise’

@krxjieun

jiyong barely flinches as the biting, cold midnight wind pulls at his coat, its fingers ruffling through his clothes and tugging at him like a needy lover. his fingers have already long since numbed out, but he refuses to let them shake or quiver at all—everything about him must remain steady as death. tonight he is death, but then again, he might also die from frostbite, so it’s a double-edged sword. it’s not supposed to be this chilly in may, what the fuck? is it possible for the weather to be too cold for killing? in older times, warriors took breaks during the winters, but no such luck for someone like him. no rest for the wicked.

he shifts his position a little, getting cramped in his hunched spot against the railing of an alleyway. he’s lying in wait for someone, a group of someones actually, people he’s been paid a lot of money to take out quietly and without bullets. not exactly jiyong’s favorite way of executing multiple targets, but he has plenty of knives on him, sheathed around his body. they’ll have guns, but he’ll have experience and a special brand of fury on his side. they maybe be gangsters but none of them have ever known the depth of rage that he’s reached. and fury makes him particularly focused, and when he’s focused, he’s unstoppable.

when they come around the corner and into the alley, he waits for a few more moments, to be sure he’s trapped them here for good. there are 5 of them, heading for a door on the far end, the entrance to one of their drug-making factories. it’s now or never, jiyong supposes, so he stands up and throws a knife right into the arm of the guy closest to the door, severing his brachial artery, giving him maximum a minute and a half to live. as expected, a rain of bullets hails towards jiyong, but not before he’s managed to send another knife through the throat of mister jung, the leader of their operations.

he spins and flies out of the way mostly, ducking behind the curve of the wall that leads out into the street, the shadows of the city hiding him. he escapes all but two bullets, one in his side, the other in his leg, but the pain pushes his emotions over the breaking point and he can feel that special kind of adrenaline flood through his system. they’re coming after him, he can hear their yells to get their leader inside, but once it’s confirmed that he’s dead, jiyong can hear their boots stomping this way. and what they’ll find when they get here is a demon, way more prepped for battle.

he makes quick work of the first goon who comes around the corner, who isn’t as skilled with anything other than a gun it seems, since take that away and he only just flounders like a fish. jiyong shoves a knife into his neck, before using his gun to pistol whip the next guy, knocking him clean out onto the ground.

jiyong’s eyes are red, he’s covered in blood, the bullet wounds barely even slowing him down but he’s heaving breaths, and there’s a moment in the eyes of the last man standing when he knows, absolutely and completely knows, that he is going to die. and every creature on this green earth, when faced with their end, will of course panic and fight back. and just then, someone else comes up from behind the man, a passerby, short, long hair, big scarf, wide eyes. she’d just started asking something before the gangster whirls around and grabs her, immediately putting the gun to her temple, like some kind of leverage. like jiyong won’t kill him as long as he has her life on the line.

jiyong tilts his head a bit. does this moron think he’s a vigilante?

#krxjieun #| monsters on the rise |#tw: gore #tw: bloodshed

> surprise!

@krxjieun

continued from >looking down

the minute jimin hit the ground he feels his forearm shatter, and hears a girl. he’s in too much pain to comprehend anything the girl is trying to say, but thank god his arm was the only thing that hurt so badly. the impact knocks the breath out of his lungs and he can barely scream, only letting out a small exclamation before rolling off his arm and onto his back. he’s trying to blink away the stars slowly clouding his vision, but it’s no use as once the stars disappear, his vision goes black.

#> surprise!#krxjieun #[ i HOPE THIS IS OK ITS JUST AN EXTENSION OF MY SOLO FOR OUR PLOT SXNSBS ]#krevent: rabbit hole

━ Gardenia

@krxjieun He never had a habit like this, something that took him out of his normal and programmed schedule to occupy part of his time just because. He says it’s like that, just because, since he doesn’t have any other way to explain the reason behind his actions. Kyungsoo is a disciplined man, always was, doing things because they need to be done is just a way to say he wants to do them since they are a part of his day. Like getting up and go to work, like drinking more coffee than it’s considered healthy or stay in his studio longer than he should simply because he loses the track of time there.

When he is surrounded by the things he loves, there is very little that can distract him, very little that can occupy his mind, which is why it’s hard to get a hold of him. To be able to grab his attention and keep it... what a gigantic task that would be yet, a little lady seems to have been able to capture it and he doesn’t seem to be able to mind at all.

He doesn’t know how it started, (or maybe he does) but a single red rose is bound to stand out if placed in a field of daisies and oh, does she stand out. Jieun is all he can see when she is immersed in what makes her happy. Her smiles multiply and are given so easily to those who approach her in that flower shop. She is truly the definition of blooming spring, a breath of fresh air, pure and unadulterated in the way she speaks, the way she gracefully moves, wraps her fingers around a bouquet to hand it to a satisfied customer. He too would bear a similar feeling if given flowers from spring herself and his thoughts take him far, far behind, to times where memories are not entirely his, a time where she walked and flowers bloomed, when she led and he followed suit. Perhaps the only time Hades ever followed anyone because what king would leave his queen behind? What king would make the mistake of blindly walking in front when they could walk on a flower trail that bloom after each step of hers. She is life, bright, caring, with rosy cheeks and small flowers tucked in her long, silky hair while he is death, cold, inevitable, often called unfair and hated upon many -- except by her.

She doesn’t realize what she has in her or who she has in her, he noticed, but perhaps her ignorance is not entirely a bad thing. Kyungsoo knows that knowledge comes with a price and he would hate to see her regret remembering what made her great once upon a time. He knows humans have that habit, of thinking that everything new comes as an omen, as a punishment for something. He wonders sometimes though, why he never questioned it when it happened to him, why he accepted it as if it was always meant to be, even if his abilities do feel burdensome at times. Resignation is not even the right word in his case.

He lingers at the door, having surprised himself by the bell chiming above his head when he pushed the door open just a little more. Somehow, he meant to remain unannounced, at least until the customer leaves with her beautifully arranged bouquet in hand. Kyungsoo holds the door open for her, a courtesy that he learned long before he even became a man and sheepishly looks at Jieun. He is not fully inside, nor completely outside, just awkwardly in the in between as if asking for permission to step into her flower garden.

#krxjieun #&gardenia

‘eat me, drink me’

@krxjieun

this maze is never-ending, taemin is sure of it now, and he keeps finding eggs with nothing inside them, forever hunting for things that just don’t mean anything; symbolic of his whole entire life, really. at one point he is pretty sure he’s wandering around in circles, even though nothing looks familiar. everything is different, yet with the same infrastructure everywhere. he’s beginning to feel blind and he’s already past the point of feeling sick.

and he’s exhausted. his anger burned white-hot scorch marks into the ground around him just a short while ago, but now it leaves him breathless, he’s can’t even muster up a single volt, which is strange for a dream. he doesn’t usually have this problem of inadequacy so soon, but who knows with nightmares, the kinds of twisted plot-holes that plague one through unconsciousness. he wants to give up and just end everything, force himself to wake up, but this is all part of the dream so he must keep traveling. the world won’t stop spinning and the eggs won’t stop appearing and he simply continues to feel more and more useless, searching for a puzzle he doesn’t understand.

he stops for a moment to catch himself on a stone, stumbling a little bit and then shaking his head to knock some sense back into it. he calms his breathing and that’s when he hears something faint and hiccup-y, a small sound that somehow manages to swallow up the silence and seem loud to his ears. he doesn’t understand it at first, but something in his gut tells him it’s tragic.

and when he sees her, his heart breaks, every nerve in his body stretches out and panics, the fear on her face more than enough to crack any illusion of composure. she looks distraught, over against the wall, terrified, and he stumbles again in his effort to reach her, his hands desperate like they are trying to catch up with his heart already wrapped around her. “persephone?” he hugs her tightly, his voice a whisper in her hair, the concern evident by the shivering in his vocal chords. he simply cannot stand it when she isn’t smiling. “oh god, are you okay? what are you doing here?”

#krxjieun #. e a t m e d r i n k m e .#krevent: rabbit hole

‘ánthos’

@krxjieun

the sky is grey and vaguely gloomy, a monotonous overcast similar to a worn out, well-loved blanket, the very color and essence of it betraying taemin's mindset like the pages of a diary. he wishes he knew how to dispel the clouds, instead of just always calling for them, utilizing some measure of the same control he once had on the skies, bending the winds and weather to his will, but alas, it's outside his reach currently since he is nothing but slowly rotting flesh and bending, aching bones now. the wind whips past him as he walks down the sidewalk, snapping at his jacket and he is again reminded of what he has lost.

he hates this form, hates these conditions, hates that he feels next to powerless in comparison to what he was, what he still is underneath this silver shroud. it would have been better to have been reborn as a blank slate, never remembering his life before, never recalling how he'd once been able to stretch out and reach all four corners of the cosmos. he'd been the very sky and now that knowledge haunts him, torments him into sleepless, terrible nights and mornings just like this one; grey and absolute in its finality.

his only recompense is this: remeeting and reforming the relationships he had before, or ruined before. there's many things he's done that he wishes he could take back, many of the stories that have been told about him that are nails on a chalkboard, mistakes set in time and stone and history. but the world has turned and times have changed and here they all are together again, and maybe taemin can't fix what happened before, and he can't change his baseline nature, but if this is supposed to be some pathetic attempt by chronos to give them all second chances, he may as well do his damnest at it.

he stops just in front of the flower shop, long black jacket drawn in tight, his hands in his pockets, his suit not nearly warm enough against the early spring breeze. winter still has its claws scratching at the surface of the world, but spring is setting in and nothing seems more driven for that then floralis, determined to fight the cold and bring about the new blossoms, force everyone else to acknowledge the shift in temperature along with it. flowers in the windows, bright colored decorations all along the outside. taemin smiles a bit. of course persephone works here, he's surprised she doesn't simply just live here.

he comes up to the entrance, which is locked. he frowns a bit at the working hours established on the door, but peers inside anyway once he spots movement. he taps on the glass to catch the young girl's attention, lifting his eyebrows and pushing back the grin that wants to spread over his face at the sight of her. is she just going to leave him out here for half an hour before they officially open?

#krxjieun #. a n t h o s .#it means 'flower' :))))))#<<<at least that's what the internet tells me lmao

🎭⏰⏳

🎭 - How does your muse handle their emotions? Do they bottle them up or pour them out as soon as they start to feel?

He is the worst at this whole ‘dealing with feelings’ thing. He’s just overly sensitive, he thinks, and he hates the way it is because he doesn’t like the fact that it usually overwhelms him. The feeling is uncomfortable, so he would rather not feel as intensely as he does, but the fact is that he lives with his heart on his sleeve and although most people would say he externalizes things well, it’s a 50/50 kind of thing. He can’t hide what he thinks 90% of the time so he says everything (which is never a good thing because he is too damn blunt about everything, but one could say that’s what makes him genuine as well). If he is mad at someone, he will verbalize it, if he is uncomfortable with something, he will say it, if he doesn’t like someone, he will say it to the person’s face; he will sass the hell out of everyone if he needs to roast them, but when it comes to deeper emotions… he sucks at handling those.

So, most of the time, with feelings of anger, happiness or irritation, he will explode and never bottle anything. But when it comes to resentful or sad feelings, then he will bottle everything up (and probably make very poor choices while he’s at it).

⏰ - Does your muse feel like they need to do things quickly or do they take their time?

Ilhoon is always in a rush for everything, he doesn’t like to take his time, it’s always as if he doesn’t do something, he’ll die. He is too impatient for his own sake.

⌛️ - How often does your muse think about death? Do they think about it at all?

He rarely thinks about it. He finds it too morbid of a topic to think about and being that he dealt with his fair share of it (when his mother died), he’d rather not dwell on it. He’ll die when he dies, he won’t think of it nor anticipate it, it’ll come when it does.

#krxjieun