#krxjohnny

[krxjongkook-blog]

✦ highways of fantasy

@krxjohnny

The low humming of the engine running reverberated through the car interior as the radio song came to an end, only for the next song to come in abruptly after a few seconds of silence. Jongkook bobbed his head slightly to the song, strumming his fingers against the steering wheel while the GPS navigation guided him through the routes.

He had been meaning to pay Johnny a visit ever since he found out that the young lad was down with a serious cold and couldn’t even get out of the bed. He wasn’t sure if the part about not being able to get out of the bed was true or just plain exaggeration, but it didn’t stop him from taking time to visit him once he was free enough. Despite the kid saying he had already recovered, Jongkook thought he should still stop by and make sure he was all okay. And cook the poor kid a decent healthy meal.

Turning off the ignition once he reached his destination and had his car parked, Jongkook reached over to the back seats to haul over the various grocery bags he had bought just a while ago. He then locked his car and it didn’t take long for him to walk to the building where Johnny’s apartment was at the first floor.

He knocked twice on the door before waiting for Johnny to answer. He had already texted the young lad beforehand so he should have been informed of his arrival. “Glad to see you’re still alive,” he remarked jokingly as soon as Johnny opened the door and appear in front of him.

[krtaemin]

‘nightmarescape’

@krxjohnny

the war is won and the world spins around him, everything square inch of it belonging to him, a hard-fought prize that almost worth the amount of heartache he feels. he wants to tell himself that he is satisfied, he is the conqueror, he has bested the most powerful being to ever exist, which puts him on top, even with the help of his rather newly-met siblings. they’ll all get their just desserts out of this of course, jobs to be assigned, lots to be cast. the universe is simultaneously collapsing and being reconstructed by his and his allies’ powers, recreating things to an operational level for everyone. the previous golden age of non-entity “peace” and half-existence is over—it’s time to start the clock, establish dominance and a working order to things.

and zeus ought to be busy with that, occupied helping his fellow celestials rebuild, but instead he is here; staring into the mouth of hell, the fires and screaming lashing out towards him without contact. strong, hot gusts of wind blow against him furiously, tugging, pulling, pushing at his robes, daring him to take a step or get the hell out of here. he has to root himself to this spot, has to encase himself with power and authority and the lightning rod he’s been recently gifted with, his main article of supremacy now.

he watches as the flames and the darkness and the chaos down below him constantly fight to get out, constantly growl and huff and bite and claw to scratch its way out, gnashing teeth and undying rage. cronos struggles endlessly against his bounds, the chains zeus and the others have controlled him with, and he will do so for an eternity. always hungry, always burning, always fighting against getting swallowed up by the hell without end or time, the deepest, darkest pit in the universe.

and zeus shouldn’t feel anything remotely akin to sadness. he shouldn’t be here, dreaming of this, remembering this, over and over as though at some point he might reach into the depths and pull the titan back out again. he’s only ever known his father through the prism of the stories given to him by his mother and grandmother who raised him, only knew him as the monster who ate his brothers and sisters, who encapsulated the universe and separated it away from choice and fate. everything had been dark under cronos’s rule, everything had been a mute chaos, and he needed to be stopped.

and zeus had stopped him.

so why does he stand here in his nightmares, constantly staring down into this fiery, angry slope of tartarus, thinking about how used he feels, how burdened with regret he is. he wants to sigh but he is air, and something smaller inside him is screaming that he ought not to be back here, he can’t take it, he is only human beneath these bones and taemin, taemin, taemin can feel his skin catching alight.

[jiminxkr-blog]

> the most caring grandpa

@krxjohnny 

there are very few times jimin ever gets to act like a mom. most of the time, he's the one needing help, usually because he's passed out at the bar or too drunk to function. other times, he's being looked down upon– (yes, he's thinking of taemin), or he's casually hanging out with a friend, where there's no need for either of them to take care of each other.

but if he had a chance, he would definitely take care of someone in need. 

and in this case, that someone in need was one of his friends, johnny.

waking up to a spam of notifications from his buzzing phone, accompanied with the insistent throbbing of a headache that could’ve only come from last night’s adventures was a certain way to put jimin is a grumpy mood in less than 5 seconds. he lays there for a moment, hoping his brain would register the vibrating from his phone as white noise, but the longer he hears the bzzt, bzzt, the more irritated he feels. had he set an alarm? who would text him for two straight minutes? he lets out something that’s half an annoyed groan and half a pouty whine. 

lifting his head off the pillow with (what feels to him) as an enormous amount of effort, he opens his eyes drowsily, and is met with the flashing of his phone, ‘MY GRANDSON.” scattered across the screen. jimin ignores the pain behind his eyes for a second, and lets out a dry scoff. he wasn’t surprised. johnny was always one to never shut up if he wanted something, and according to the messages, johnny wanted him.

jimin rolled his eyes as he scrolled through the short but (seemingly) endless messages, thoroughly amused with johnny’s “please, i’m really dying here.” and “IM HOTTER THAN THE SUN”. (even if he was lowkey concerned.)

[ msg → MY GRANDSON ] relax... [ msg → MY GRANDSON ] i’m coming over. [ msg → MY GRANDSON ] don’t go anywhere... [ msg → MY GRANDSON ] not like you can, haha.

[krxlisa-blog]

favor for favors

@krxjohnny A spare toilet paper roll, dish soap, even some typical sugar for a super-awesome yet failed attempt at making unicorn shaped cookies. There were probably way closer and more convenient neighbors for Lisa to go to, but no one met her as amiably as Johnny. That and he literally had everything she needed whenever she needed them. Not like she abused this, mind you (once she came over just to look at his pretty face, but who's actually counting?). All these things, and she liked Johnny. He was a nice guy who kept to himself. Though logically she could have relied on her parents, Lisa prided herself on her independence. She never went to mommy and daddy dearest for money, instead paying her way on her own. As a result, she had to wait for her paycheck to truly reach splurge-worthy status, but when she did, down to Johnny's she marched. If she could repay her neighbor in any way at all, she was happy to do so. They'd gotten to the point where she had her own special knock pattern, and when the door opened Lisa greeted Johnny with that bright smile. "You, me. Ice cream. Now. Are you lactose intolerant?"

[krxilhoon]

Oneiric

@krxjohnny

There is a series of repetitive images that go through his head, a recurrent theme when he is asleep. The details are always different each time, but he doesn’t need to be a dream reader to know what they mean or where they come from. It doesn’t feel right to call them products of trauma, because all hell will break loose befor Jung Ilhoon ever admits to have (had) a problem.It would be nice to have nice dreams, silly ones that no one can even begin to decipher and that make little to no sense. Instead, when he is not having nightmares, he simply doesn’t dream (at all).

He remembers that one period of terrible insomnia a couple of years before, when he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stay awake, couldn’t decide on a happy medium at all. The doctor’s solution was a fast one and yes, sleeping pills help, taking one every night before bed and only waking up in the morning. Then he stopped. Not because he was afraid to become dependent of a little red capsule, but because he wanted to try again. Maybe it’s not so bad anymore, he thinks one night. The next thing he knows he’s jolting up from the bed, trying to even out his breathing. Maybe he’s a masochist after all. 

He’s walking through a field of flowers; they’re all daisies, the yellow kind, and they look like little suns. His arms are stretched out, his hands are open, palms facing down, touching the flowers as he moves forward. Yet, his touch leaves a trail of red paint on the yellow petals as if it’s perfectly normal for his hands to simply bleed out paint. Or are they painting out blood... ? The sky isn’t blue but a vibrant yellow, one similar to the tone he likes the most. It’s not very usual for yellow to be someone’s favorite color, but he knows that someone gave that color the association with happiness and a certain genius thought that eating it would put happiness inside him. It’s a weird trail of thought which Ilhoon can understand and maybe that’s why it’s his favorite color, because when he says he wants to be yellow, no one gets the real meaning of that sentence.

[krxyunhyeong-blog]

Business and pleasure

@krxjohnny

Little doubt ran through Yunhyeong’s mind that today had been a bad day. For multiple reasons. For one, yet again the customers happened to be of the annoying variety, usually ones who had next to no manners at all. Those were always the worst and usually Yunhyeong was the one who had to deal with them, for some reason then only tend to show up when he’s the one watching the front of the store. It doesn’t quite make sense, why someone would get irate due to some fruit and vegetables but he had learned to never question motives. After all he had witnessed some interesting things over the years he has spent working for his family.

And so it came to the end of the working day, all that was left to do was to deliver some baskets. This was a new practice they had started at the start of the year and it had been successful from the get-go. Yunhyeong hypothesised that it was due to the laziness in people, that they didn’t want to get up and have it delivered directly to their door. Though he could understand, he would probably do the same thing if he was in their shoes. As he looked through the list of names he noticed a few he recognised - they were repeat customers - something he was always happy to see.

As he made his way down the list he smiled at the last name, because of cause it was Johnny. He wouldn’t of expected anything less of the other. Thankfully he was the last on the list so he was done after this and he could go home and relax, though that never seemed to be the case with the other male. With basket in possession he drove towards Nanjin Duplex, where the other resided.

It was always quite odd to enter this complex, it was quite the difference from his own. Much more high class than what he was used to, though his own accommodation wasn’t too bad. Making his way up to the first floor in which Johnny lived he gave his apartment door a few knocks, before taking a step back and waiting. A wise decision would be to make sure he was actually in before he came but it was too late now.

[krxjieun]

🎵

Strome - quad c’est

Quand c’est, quand c’est

When is it, when is it

Quand est-ce que tu y penses ?

That you’ll think about it?

Quand c’est, quand c’est ?

When is it, when is it

Ça nous fera des vacances

You’ll give us a break

Cancer, Cancer, dis-moi quand c’est ?

He looked so small. As though his entire six foot frame had taken to much liking to the daisies that got left unwatered next to his bed. Johnny’s vivaciousness was wilting. Slowly, she picked up the dying buds and left them to lay in the bin next to the front door. Jieun quietly unwrapped another bouquet but it did little to bring any light into the room. There had never been a moment where flowers failed her, but here solemnity ran to high for blooms. 

Jieun tried to calm herself in the chair just to his right, keeping her breaths in tempo with his heart rate monitor. Johnny’s face had gone ashen and puffy. All side effects of the countless hours he’d undergone for treatment. Brain cancer refused to dwindle back. It seemed disgustingly ironic, that a boy who reveled in his dreams so much should be overcome with a ailment in his mind. Jieun was, admittedly, angry at the world for it’s sadistic sense. 

He stirred. Jieun’s hand shot to his and a small hopeful smile formed on her face. For a moment, color seemed to return to his cheeks before slowly returning to their icy original state. Even in all his pain, he smiled. “The flowers.” He quietly said, pointing to the new arrangement. Jieun nodded and smiled. “Just brought them from Floarlis, made them just for you.” 

He laughed a little and it felt so dry that Jieun felt her heart shake. Her hand tightened around his as he drew in more air. “Hey, Jieunie. What do you think happens when you die?” The room went quiet. She didn’t want to answer that question, it was too macabre. As though he had already decided death was standing in the door of this hospital room. 

“You shouldn’t say things like that.” She said in a disheartened manner. Johnny didn’t seem to care though. His eye’s were filled with genuine curiosity for what she had to say and Jieun felt a bit obliged to answer. “I suppose it depends on how good of a person you are while you’re alive. I’m sure you will chill on some underworld beach sipping gold cocktails.”

Johnny seemed to like that vision as he shut his eyes and hummed over it. “However it turns out, I hope persephone knows how to party.” A smirk overtook his lips as he took another large sip of air and fell back asleep. Jieun sat back down, watching the small boy dream away again. “I’m sure she wouldn’t let you down.”

[krxilhoon]

☛ : What is their typical response to being given orders?

Do the exact opposite of what he’s being ordered to do. No, really, do not give him orders, do not tell Jung Ilhoon what to do or you will literally see little red horns and a tail coming out, he will turn into a little devil, he will not abide unless he actually wants to. In fact, he may even want to do something but if he’s told to do it in a forceful way, he will give that up so fast just because it was an order (and therefore it’s no longer something he decided voluntarily on). He grew up with a very strict education, where rules were everything he ever heard and there were no requests but orders instead to which he couldn’t disobey. His father being a former military officer didn’t help (him being a scumbag didn’t either) and his one year at the military school was hell on earth for him (in fact, his first act of rebellion was to be expelled from that school - he’s still proud of that). So yeah, orders are a no no. (unless it’s in a totally different and private context, to which he’s all up for yes all the way but let’s not go there, ahem)