[...]
or, he would have subsisted; the familiar scent catches his nose, one stronger than any fresh fish could. the same one that has rooted itself inside those keys now tenfold. his head cants; hazel eyes narrowing, a cold look replacement to any possible emotion he's felt before. he clutches the keys harder within the palm of his hand, lips part, and though he speaks into void, it's the owner to who he calls out for: "hey."
juyoon isn't sure if thief is the right word. the moments he spent in his other form rarely made for good, clear memories, instead a patchwork of sensations that he could imagine running his hand over. that day in the forest had been damp; there had been freshly-fallen rain still soaked into the grass and it had been soft and cool under the pads of his feet. when the necklace slipped from his neck, he felt its absence instantly, and yet something had pushed him on without it.
an irrational flash of selfishness, maybe. it came from the same place as that urge sometimes to let the locks hang, let the door slip ajar and let whatever thing was inside out. let it see the stars, for once. but by the time he'd recollected his senses and circled back where he remembered leaving it, it was gone, and he'd had another, equally irrational thought of, maybe the universe wants me to let it go, too.
a misread, clearly. someone had picked it up, and then there was no helping the guttural instinct to get it back. he'd picked up on the thief's scent and trailed them long enough that day to familiarize himself with it, but just like the memories, it grew hazy when he came back to himself and his senses slipped from wolf to human. it was the sense of familiarity that lingered, a prickle in the back of his neck when he crossed certain parts of town, until he couldn't be sure if he was the one following the trail of his keys or if something had followed him out of that forest.
even here, now, he still doesn't know. he's only passing through when he hears the voice, one among countless others, and yet his body knows first to look behind him.
there, at the stall he just passed. tall, cold-faced, with a hand curled into a fist around something unseen. you. juyoon eyes them first, assesses how hard they might swing or how fast they might run. then his gaze flickers to the elderly woman behind the stall.
he knows her. she'd been lost in his part of the forest once, and like an idiot, he'd ventured out to meet her and helped her back to town. of course she immediately talked--- of course, because that was what humans did, ate up sights and encounters and all things they didn't understand and then regurgitated them back out as talk, as stories, dressed it up with pretty words and pretty lessons when it really was just chewed-up, bastardized shit.
this thief didn't smell human. but juyoon sees that tilt of their head, how their demeanor changes, and he wonders if they're going to disappoint him like a human anyway.
"me, you mean?" he steps out of the stream of marketgoers. over his shoulder is a string bag full of meats from the butcher, and he glances at the stall like he's anyone else looking to buy something, or just stopping to talk to an old friend.
the elderly woman has noticed him now. she looks away as soon as juyoon locks eyes with her, her hands tightening possessively over her ledger, but she leaves them be.
juyoon casts a sideways glance at the thief. "i haven't seen you around before, have i? no one hangs around mrs. hwang's stall this long unless she's feeding you her stories." he smiles, sardonic, and pulls out his wallet to offer them a few slips of cash to take with that little clenched fist of theirs. "here. buy a second one. her fish have less meat than a goldfish, you'd starve before dinner's over."
[...]
she didn't expect him to come and had honestly given up on their friendship long ago but part of her was a slave to tradition and the familiar and she simply wasn't at a place to remove his name from the prep list. pursing her lips, she quickly turned her eyes away from her booth to the bodies filtering passed her both, offering those passing by a warm smile and wave.
at twilight, the island looked the closest to magic as juyoon thought it could get: gold-violet but somehow soft, all of the life thrumming under a deceptively hazy air. it seemed to slow time down, made every footstep feel a little heavier and every voice sound airier. juyoon thought it looked like a coiled dragon from a distance, with its hoard of food and trinkets hidden close to the heart of town.
it felt a little like walking around one, too. he wandered through the festivities without lingering too long at the pretty things that hung from the stalls and streamers, as if something would snap him up if he showed too much interest in one. he wanted to say that it was just the time of day --- twilight always meant he was just a few more minutes away from the uncertainty of nightfall --- but the twilight of the ineo festival was always more melancholy than the others.
there was a booth he'd been avoiding. he hadn't even come close enough to see it until now, but he knew where it was each year, could make his guesses on where he saw those little cakes in people's palms. there were few people he willingly kept close in his memories anymore, but he'd never really been able to forget choi dal-rae whether he wanted to or not. sometimes juyoon imagined that he'd put himself on the other side of some dark, deep river where he couldn't see the bridge anymore --- but the thought of that bridge being long crumbled and eroded was just as frightening as it still being there, still standing, after all this time.
he couldn't see anyone, so he hedged closer. sometimes kids thought it was funny to pluck things from stalls and run away with them, and he knew how hard dal-rae worked on her food. a pair of giggling kids ran harmlessly past him, missing the flowers he'd bought from the other side of the festival. he'd wanted to just leave it for dal-rae to find, in case the flowers in her hair were already curling and wilting today, but--- another step, and there she was, just sitting where he couldn't see. maybe if he'd tried harder, he thought, he would've seen her sooner.
"you haven't given mine away yet, have you?" he cleared his throat quietly, setting down the flowers on the stall. "got something to trade for it this year."
"you're watching, right?" he calls over his shoulder. the bottles are all arranged neatly, gleaming in the light, and while he should be focusing on them, it's mostly on the large stuffed animals that are stacked behind the counter, before he turns and juyoon comes into view. "i'll win the biggest one for you." taking a stance he thinks would help him throw the ball the best to knock the bottles down- bottom lip between his teeth before he sends it sailing- is only for it to thwack ! sadly against the wall and bounce off.
"two more tries!" the attendant tells him, cheery and upbeat, and hyeonju's still staring down the ball on the ground like it's personally offended him. shifts his positioning again, and tries another arc. it barely skirts by the edge of a bottle without dislodging it, but it manages to shift the formation a little. he stares hard at the attendant before she can tell him one more try! and tries to bite his tongue that it's rigged. or the wind, or something, tossing that one last ball in his hand up vertically into the air and catching it. says fuck it and finally sends the last one only for it to hit straight into the middle, knocking the rest of the bottles down. it has hyeonju turning around with a grin stretched across his lips, hip leaning against the table, all casual. "see? i told you."
yes, juyoon is watching in poorly-concealed amusement as hyeonju takes the shots. he’s seen enough of these games to know the trick—one of the bottom bottles was weighted, always harder to knock off, and the attendant was usually standing on the side of the normal bottle to discourage the player from aiming there. clearly hyeonju’s determination overtakes any kind of game logic though, rigged or not—juyoon barely stifles a laugh when the attendant sputters at hyeonju’s win, as if they’re about to argue. juyoon raises an eyebrow at them mildly, and their shoulders slump in defeat, and they turn to unhook hyeonju’s prize. juyoon turns to hyeonju, mirth hinting across his mouth. “uh huh. you also looked like you were going to throw a hole through the tent if you missed one more time.”
the prize turns out to be a bear, unreasonably huge but soft to touch. “this is my new most prized possession,” juyoon announces, gathering it to his chest. its fur is surprisingly downy and makes him want to purr with it on his cheek, even if the attendant’s still staring resentfully at them. but then he thinks about how he’s going to keep it clean in the cottage and then he feels a little rueful about it. maybe this was a sign he needed to actually start treating the lodge like he lived there. he pets the bear’s back soothingly, then holds out its giant paw and brings it down on hyeonju’s head a few times, amused by how hyeonju practically disappears from his sight. juyoon grins. “you’re not going to stop here, right? you were so good, and there was another nice, big bunny at the balloon darts that i really wanted…”
[...]
"c'mon, open up. try this and tell me you wouldn't remember it just by sight, either. believe me." there's a grin on his lips, just this side of teasing, because no, he hasn't gotten many of these right, but he thinks the memory of this afternoon is enough to make up for all that he can't recall.
"what face," juyoon says as he accepts the bite, gaze lingering on hyeonju's neck. "this is just how i look." as hyeonju leans in, the key hanging from his necklace glints, familiar by sight alone. it's right there, so juyoon reaches without much thinking, fingers closing carefully around its shape. "okay, you sounded really confident about it. you could've told me you could talk to animals and i probably would've believed you."
whatever goes through him then, it's sourer than nostalgia. wistfulness, maybe. hope had always tasted acrid, unbearable in the back of his throat. juyoon swallows and waits for the ice cream to wash it away, but of course it can't ever be that easy.
"that's weird, i swear you liked one of these," he says, tilting his head in faux concern. "maybe i'm just remembering wrong too. this one i remember for sure, though." he releases the key to take another spoonful of his ice cream, this time his own. he holds it out expectantly, but nowhere near as considerate as hyeonju had been, still far enough that hyeonju would still have to lean over again. then, juyoon thinks, he could see the key up close again, and maybe he'd blink and it would disappear and he'd find out it was a mirage after all. maybe he'd blink again and hyeonju would too.
it's a flavor he hadn't touched since the day he brought it to hyeonju and hyeonju's face lit up the brightest at it out of all the others. juyoon remembers being small again and bringing it to the tree after hyeonju disappeared, like he thought that hyeonju could definitely be summoned back by the promise of his favorite ice cream. when he fell asleep alone at the tree and woke up still alone, he finally realized it was a stupid idea and went back to the house. the ice cream had melted by then, and hyeonju wasn't around to fix it anymore, so he'd thrown it out. after that, there hadn't really been a reason to get it again.
he's glad he didn't if it would've just soured the taste for him. some things were better left untouched so they couldn't be ruined, he thinks, like art or memories or ice cream flavors. or trees, so that they could keep growing unimpeded. or locks, so they would never rust over and go brittle. he thinks of one they'd buried for safekeeping and wonders if that's why they'd done it, even if they'd been too young to know it back then.
"i know somewhere you might remember by sight too, if you feel like stopping by with me before it gets dark." he moves his gaze away from hyeonju's necklace and feels the second key shift with the others on his own, tucked under his shirt. he supposes he could just tell hyeonju about this, but like with the other memories, it feels easier to show, instead.
“ YOU LOOK LOST . ” the main walkway of the night district is , as per usual , as quiet as a ghost town . the stalls and stores all closed and the owners still fast asleep , waiting for the sun to set so that the curtain of darkness would bring forth another lucrative night for them . “ the night district doesn’t open for a few more hours . were you looking for something , or someone , in particular ? ”
lost. juyoon decides that he likes the word, if being lost meant that he knew where he wanted to go to begin with. "something that could keep me awake for the next twelve hours," he says lightly. "all of the good coffee places are closed now, though. you don't happen to know any secret ones that are open later, do you?" he raises an eyebrow. they look knowledgeable, maybe. his bar was low; often too busy at night, he seldom stepped into the night district after dark, and it remained a vague dark spot in his mind-map of the island despite how long he'd lived there. anything would have done, as long as it would stave off the night.
(…)
broke while he was trying to change out the flowers there, but now he felt especially crazed with the awful temporary solution he’d been forced to put in place: towels to pad the sides of the sink, a bucket underneath to catch excess, and a long rubber tube he’d repurposed to filter the water out of the bathroom, through the hall, and out through one of the windows. the few guests staying there had already given him plenty of nasty looks, like the scowl on his face was an incriminating sign that he’d caused this, but at least they stayed out of his way as he stomped to the entrance to greet the latest contractor they’d been forced to call.
instead, someone from the florist’s was standing there. “sakura?” surprise, then confusion, flashed across their face. nakamura sakura. flower-girl, he sometimes thought, because her hair had a tendency to match the flowers he was sent to pick up from her shop. juyoon began to peel back his damp sleeves from his wrists, glancing down at her bag questioningly. “did they call you to replace the flowers already? the sink’s still fucked so i can’t really do anything with them yet, unless they could suck up all the water flooding the floors right now.”
.
The cherry nymph beamed at him, as he called her name. “Hi.” She greeted, her usual happiness carried over in her words as she tilted her head at his question, dark orbs looking down at her hands that had no flowers in sight but instead a bag, that was rather heavy from the tools, but she could understand his confusion, it was almost impossible to see the girl with anything other than flowers on her hands. After all flowers were her thing and it kind of came with working at the flower shop of the town. Still, the young nymph chuckled good-naturedly as she shook her head. “Nope, I’m here to help with the sink.” She admited as she walked closer to him, the lower part of her dress getting drenched in water but the pink haired nymph didn’t mind at all.
“Let’s see….” She mumbled as she approached the broken sink, eyes attentive to find what was the exact part that needed fixing. “What exactly happened?” She asked juyoon, only then her dark orbs moving from the sink to the one trying to stop the water. Perhaps that was the best starting point.
"oh," juyoon said, wondering if sakura had taken up a second job and mentioned it at some point in time or if he was just stupid. "thanks for coming out, then. it's here."
he stepped aside to let her take a look at the sink. the tile was a mess, puddled lightly where the hose hadn't been fast enough to drain the bucket before it spilled over. a part of him wanted to crumble when he saw the edges of her dress getting damp. "i didn't see what happened, but i'm pretty sure someone tried to stuff something down the drain they shouldn't have. maybe tissue paper, or a secret note." he thought about this for a few seconds. "or a murder weapon. and then maybe i made it worse when i tried to mess with the pipes to get it out?"
he grabbed a few towels that they kept folded in the corner of the sink and dropped them over the puddles, feeling increasingly worse about sakura having to wade through them. "i think the pipe under just needs to be tightened back up, but if whatever's stuck stays in there, i think it's going to get backed up worse and the rest of your dress is going to be ruined."
[...] it wouldn't give in easily-- it was late at night ( or early in the morning depending on who you asked ) and she hadn't slept well in days. her strength was gone and tears ran down her cheeks. "this stupid fucking mud!"
it was cold.
or maybe it wasn't. maybe it was just the physical shock of waking so suddenly, half caught in roots, mind still caught in a mantra of homehavetogethomehavetogohome while his body unspooled from the defensive hunch his wolf had curled into. he didn't know why it left him with a chill sometimes, as if a blanket had been pulled from him; he hated what it implied, that his other shape gave him any kind of security. that was funny. if he'd never turned out like this, if he'd never been given this thing that he never asked for, then he wouldn't even have to worry about security. he'd be safe, and his family would be safe, his sister, and everyone else on this godforsaken island, and---
he'd be safe. that was the point. he wouldn't be shivering in what was left of his clothes, lost in the woods.
one misstep, and he slipped--- grimacing, he caught himself on a tree trunk just in time, the bark scraping harshly across the soft inner flesh of his arm. there was a flash of red, and then white, almost blinding.
dumbly, juyoon stared at the hand in front of him, ruddy-knuckled and filthy and shaking. yours, his mind supplied. that's yours. get it together, juyoon. get it together. get it together. the red was for the blood. but the light---?
he heard a shout. not alone, a voice said, and then another chimed in agreement, not safe, and then, run. its insistence was palpable, clamoring like a scared animal in the back of his head. go home go home go home.
I KNOW, he snarled at it. then he shoved himself forward, into a clearing where the mud deepened and a shape took form against the filth, just...sitting?
"jesus," he said when he understood that it was a person struggling to get up, "what are you doing?"
there was a subtle dip in the ground, cradling the spot where the person sat, so it made sense that they were struggling. or, had been struggling, since it seemed like they'd now given up. juyoon watched them for a second longer before he sighed and circled the edge of the field, placing himself directly in their line of sight.
he noticed the tear tracks on their cheeks a split second before he realized he did know who he was looking at. what was jung raon doing out here? "you're not going to get out of there if you're too busy cussing at the mud. look at me. breathe." he knelt with a wince, feeling for a nearby branch. when he found one that looked long and sturdy enough, he gingerly extended it to raon, gripping the grass tightly with his other hand to make sure he wouldn't go slipping in either. the cold made this easy, at least. made it easier to concentrate on this one little task, hold out the branch and keep it there. juyoon could do that. "i can reach you if you can just pull yourself up a little." a touch of pity crept into his voice. "you think you can stop crying long enough to do that for me?"
[...]
"look at this stuff!" she spoke excitedly, ushering the other into the antique shop. "isn't it neat? i really can't get enough of all the treasures we have in store. don't be shy! come take a closer look!" suae hovered behind the customer, peeking back and forth excitedly between the shelf on display and the other's reaction, before retreating backwards to allow comfortable viewing room. "i promise that they're all in tip-top shape— i tend to them myself every week! greaaaat for presents too! what do you say?" she looked up with a pleading gaze, eagerly awaiting a hopefully positive response.
"suae, i—" juyoon barely had a chance to protest before the proximity startled him into taking a step forward, almost knocking into the shelf. "they're pretty, but you know you're also the only person i could buy these for, right? you're just helping me find your future birthday present." he was teasing, but it wasn't entirely untrue. he wasn't close with many people like suae, with many people at all. not the gift-giving kind of close, at least.
he took his time to keep looking, anyway. he had learned that baek suae, despite first impressions, could be persistent when she wanted to be. or maybe that was just the weakness talking: juyoon liked to think that if it were anyone else hovering around him, he would have "accidentally" jammed an elbow into their face or left out a foot for them to trip on a long time ago, but this was suae. this was suae, and juyoon already felt enough like shit about what it meant to stand there next to her, her secret cupped in his hands where she had entrusted it to him while his own remained rotting inside of him.
it gnawed at him more often these days, the things he kept from her. he thought of her grandmother, who suae used to hide behind --- who used to be the one to push her forward with an, at least greet them!, whose smile used to make juyoon feel like it was okay to say hi to suae too. he thought of that smile now.
if her grandmother had known the truth of it, would she have pushed suae in his direction still?
it was this thought that kept him gentle, carefully righting the antique clock he had bumped into. the fact that he'd come in here at all was a miracle only suae was capable of; he did not trust himself around delicate and priceless objects.
he turned to her, motioning her closer and away from another customer passing through. "how about this---" he lowered his voice, eyes flashing with mirth. "when your shift's done, i found a bag that washed up down the beach the other day. if you come with me, we'll break into-- i mean, see what's inside, and if i like anything in it, i'll pay you for it. you can even have whatever's left after." he tilted his head in pretend-thoughtfulness. "'cause if not, i was just going to take it to the landfill..."
summer, he thinks when he looks at hyeonju. it's a certain summer years ago, when he'd been lighter on his feet, a child with nothing to carry except the secret things that rattled in his bag: coins, books, candy. a flier for a grown-up band he wanted hyeonju's second opinion on, because he couldn't understand what made them "grown-up." two modest helpings of ice cream, because he'd discovered that if he ran fast enough then he could make it from town square and sneak in to meet hyeonju without the ice cream melting. a pair of keys, one molded after the other and both shining under the light, look. i asked the locksmith to make it just like yours.
don't you remember, he had thought when he first understood why hyeonju looked so familiar. circumstances had quickly proved that neither of them were those kids anymore, but he supposed he wondered if that summer still echoed in all of hyeonju's other summers too, if hyeonju also wondered how long it could have lasted if some things about their fates had been left for themselves to decide.
that was before juyoon learned about the curse, of course. yes, the curse made things complicated. if the curse were something tangible, juyoon would have liked to take it between their teeth and gnashed it and killed it, and maybe then they'd really have hyeonju back. but juyoon had already thought, someone's come back for me, and that had been touching enough for the stupid starved thing inside them. something's come back for me, and it didn't matter if there were parts of it missing or that they weren't even doing it for him. fragments were better than nothing. a body to sit next to was better than a memory circling the drain of his skull.
and that old summer may have been sweet, but he's been making this day sweeter with the sheer amount of desserts he has made hyeonju try all afternoon.
"you have to clear your palate this time. that's why you got the last one wrong." he pushes a water bottle at hyeonju with a curling smile. around them, town square is busy, blurry. it's warm but their outdoor table's got one of those parasols on it, providing shade from the dripping sun.
"i used to haul ass to get these to you, you know? one time, they melted and you tried to 'fix' it, and we spent the whole afternoon waiting for it to harden back up in the freezer. here, try these." he pushes two flavors forward next. of course, he doesn't mention that he'd never brought these for hyeonju to try before -- and therefore hyeonju can't possibly guess which one used to be his favorite -- because it's funny. it's just a little trick, hyeonju. like if juyoon came to him human or wolf and asked which one he thought was right, which me do you pick, hyeonju? fuck what you remember, which one do you still know?
"you better get this one right," he tells him, spooning lazily at his own ice cream, "or i don't think i can believe you anymore."
[...]
she watched the flurry of leaves with glee until she sensed a presence behind her, dropping the leaves and readying a stone for protection. "who's there?" she hollered, trying her best not to sound as scared as she was. "i've got a weapon!" she wasn't lying per se but it was very doubtful the small rock would save her from much.
like a moon pulled back to orbit, juyoon had found himself in the outskirts of the temple for the second time that week, watching a stranger--- or was this the third? he knew that if he were watching anyone else do this same, inane routine, he'd be laughing: why don't you just go in, idiot? it's just a temple. just a big mound of stone to some goddess that might not even exist.
but no matter how he willed it smaller, how he shaped and molded the belief on his tongue to sound harmless or improbable, he still felt a superstitious shiver run through him. if she was real, could she hear? would she strike him down if he thought too loud? and you wonder why they wouldn't let you in.
he had found a small outcrop to watch from this time. he'd spent the last few times focusing on the wrong things, he thought; there was only so much he could see observing the front doors, and the temple-goers usually went in too deep for him to follow. today, he had picked someone he'd seen hedge near the outskirts of the temple. with fewer people around, it was easier to tail her without being seen. juyoon was surprised that she was even so far; he thought that the worship or pilgrimage happened closer to the heart of the temple, not---this.
not whatever this stranger was doing, holding their hand out to something unseen. not the leaves that suddenly lifted and swirled beneath their fingers too prettily to be a work of nature.
juyoon blinked, and then he blinked again. something uneasy rose up in him, what felt like a secretive fist pushing from the back of his throat. you don't know what you're talking about. you just haven't been sleeping well, juyoon.
a shout brought him back to reality. it was the word weapon that sharpened his senses, but when he slowly crept closer to the edge and saw the pitiful rock he was being threatened with, he relaxed.
"if you throw that at me, i will throw it back." he tilted his head and studied her, her hands, and her leaves that now fluttered harmlessly on the ground. did he imagine it? he'd slept a meager two hours the night before, it was possible. "are you...doing some kind of ritual? for the goddess?" slowly, like he really was expecting her to throw the rock, he sat back down on the edge of the stone with one leg curled to his chest, both hands in plain sight---easy, relaxed, with nothing to betray the dull thud of his heart in his ears.
i never saw you answer when the admins asked this, so i went to them and asked if you ever followed up and they said you didn't respond after they asked for more context either, so i will also sincerely ask here: which group do you mean, and what makes you say that? i’ve been writing and adminning in tumblr rps since 2014? 2015?, so there's a decent chance i’ll know what or who you’re talking about too. like, if something did get stolen, i'd want to understand what happened, not just be told thru anons etc
Sakura had been a curious little cherry since she was young, as a kid she would follow arround her mother and repeat everything she did, and when she came to Mabeob the older Nymphs had taken that place having little Kura running behind them and learning everything from them, granted, it was a little harder since she only spoke Japanese at that time but they were all patient with her, teaching her Korean as well. While she grew up her curiosity also grew and mixed with her caring nature and her want to help in everything she could, the nymph ended up learning even the oddest things like plumbery and carpentry, and slowly everyone in the island started calling her on their times of need when no one else was there to help.
The cherry nymph had been working on a flower bouquet when she had received a call, asking for her help and just like always, she replied she would be right there with a bright smile. Kura took her bag with her tools and closed the flower shop on the gardens until her return. The walk was an easy one, knowing the whole town like the back or her hand and greeting townsfolks as she passed, until she found whom she guessed had called her. “Hi!” She greeded happily. “You needed some help?”
in the spring the lodge was quiet, and it was the kind of quiet that juyoon could feel: slow and sticky, and heavy, which was probably the worst part of it all. the little parts of the day that usually sloughed off of them like melting snow instead congealed into unpleasant things that stuck around their brain, where they gummied up everything else that came with the day.
which was a lot, as it turned out. coming off of the seasonal rush, the owners had pitched the lodge into all kinds of repairs that resulted in two handymen already quitting, but "halfway done" was turning out to be a terrible state to leave things in.
a sink was flooding in the bathroom. juyoon had felt frenzied when it first broke while he was trying to change out the flowers there, but now he felt especially crazed with the awful temporary solution he'd been forced to put in place: towels to pad the sides of the sink, a bucket underneath to catch excess, and a long rubber tube he'd repurposed to filter the water out of the bathroom, through the hall, and out through one of the windows. the few guests staying there had already given him plenty of nasty looks, like the scowl on his face was an incriminating sign that he'd caused this, but at least they stayed out of his way as he stomped to the entrance to greet the latest contractor they'd been forced to call.
instead, someone from the florist's was standing there. "sakura?" surprise, then confusion, flashed across their face. nakamura sakura. flower-girl, he sometimes thought, because her hair had a tendency to match the flowers he was sent to pick up from her shop. juyoon began to peel back his damp sleeves from his wrists, glancing down at her bag questioningly. "did they call you to replace the flowers already? the sink's still fucked so i can't really do anything with them yet, unless they could suck up all the water flooding the floors right now."
hello fellow cats i'm isa (they/them) and this is my prickly goth gurl kim juyoon ⛓️ i've been having hades and persephone brainworms for a while and originally was going to bring in my persephone muse, but he ended up taking a backseat to juyoon's hades vibes for now instead </3 as a general note, i'm up for figuring out existing connections, making new ones, or just throwing our muses together and seeing what happens, so i'm happy to do whichever you prefer!
🖤 tldr: juyoon is a white wolf shapeshifter who knows v little about the Whys or Hows of it, or other non-human species, or magic in general; he's struggling to cope with what this means for who he is, where he's meant to be, what he's meant to be. his full background is here if you feel like checking it out, and his profile is here, and his plots/starter ideas are here. i focused more on his backstory on his pages, so below is more context on where he is today.
thank u for reading however far, i will see u all around :]!
some background:
25yrs old, he/him for convenience but he dgaf. spice it up for him if you would like
used to live with his parents and sister on their farm, which was constantly terrorized by some local wildlife. he was raised to be v vigilant, to be the protector of the house & his sister against whatever monster was out there
started shifting when he was pretty young but was never conscious of it. he thought it was sleepwalking and that his parents' sheer paranoia were just affecting his sleeping habits
fast forward to when he's 16 and he wakes up to the house ransacked by an animal. his parents get angry because they think he left his sister for the night to #party and the animal got in, and the accusation gets juyoon so worked up that it triggers a shift, and then ta dah, they find out he's been the monster all this time
i do headcanon that there was actually another wild animal that tried to get in that night and juyoon had shifted to fend it off, but ended up in the woods bc he couldn't get back in. it's too late for any of them to realize that though, bc juyoon completely thinks it was him and his parents have already left him behind and took his sister with them, sooo
they were nice enough to leave him an old family cottage though! and a cellar and a set of chains he can use to bind himself so that when he shifts, he doesn't hurt anyone! bc he's a feral dangerous creature right! :\
present day tidbits:
never seen without his necklace of keys, esp. a star-shaped tin “key” that his sister made for him.
frequently stays at the nunui yeowang lodge. aka someone there took pity on him being left behind by his family and is letting him work in exchange for staying at one of their rooms
but there are certain times when he can just feel it will be a bad night, and at sunset he'll come down the other side of the mountain instead. his old house is all abandoned now, but he still has the little cottage his parents left him, where he hangs up lunar lanterns (like solar lanterns, but only glows when the moon is out?) to guide himself back there if he happens to shift midway. he locks himself in until it wears off and he’s human again
actively keeps the cottage a secret -- he's got a couple of plots involving people finding out about it, but in general he's v wary of what could happen to him if people found out what he was. his parents made it seem so dangerous, ykwim?
comes across as blithe, nonchalant, and sometimes mean. not sure how to explain the vibe --- he has such a complex about feeling monstrous and the terrible things he might do, that when he is in human form and he hears about humans and their human fears, he just has to have a little giggle about it
currently trying to quit caffeine --- for a while, he would drink a lot of coffee and other stimulants to put off going to sleep as long as possible, but now he's trying to be better about it. trying to replace it with other distractions---though who knows if those will be much better
like i mentioned, he knows v little about his lineage and what he really even "is." i headcanon that his family tree had some shapeshifter blood from wayyyy up there, but it's been so long that he and his parents just never knew any different.
unless someone would like to plot out smth involving our muses' backstories !! i'm flexible, it would be cool to have some longstanding connection between their families and for our muses to actually be coming full circle by meeting. that is metal to me
anyway, bc of that lack of knowledge, he's been hanging around the temple lately, kind of wishy washy about actually going in; he doesn't feel particularly holy/devout/enough of a believer in the goddess of nature to feel like he belongs there, but he still wishes he could learn more somehow
after losing his sister, he sort of iced over? his core nature is to care and to protect but he doesn't rly want to go through anything like that again, to see someone's faith in him completely shatter and to be completely left behind again. so that nature tends to manifest in backhanded ways --- checking up on people by barging into their homes unprompted, making someone feel better by fucking w someone else to get a little giggle out of them, or hunting down someone who was shitty to them and fucking up their property
but also, he has become a bit jaded about other people and their true natures. like, sometimes he DOES think that person deserved to trip on their face. sometimes it isn't enough to simply watch it happen and he has to make it happen himself
my goal for him is to come to some kind of terms about his self as a shapeshifter ? i know i want him to be able to embrace that side of himself more freely and to not feel so #disgusting when he shifts or at least stop feeling like he literally has to lock himself up to get through it, but i'm excited for whatever turns he might take to get there :>
potential plots:
plot page plug --- there are also random starter/more slice of life ideas at the bottom if that's the vibe
juyoon has gathered a lot of weird wild child allegations in his resume, so maybe your muse has heard of how he used to sleep outside of his parents' house like a maniac before. or maybe your muse(/'s family) heard of his parents just up and leaving him behind someday but never understood why
feel free to hate him. feel free to act in such ways that would compel him to torment you
kidding!!! unless you also think a back and forth rivalry mutual hatredship is sexy. esp if they end up accidentally caring about each other as people and they get indignant if anyone else messes with the other, and they're like fuck. FUck
outsiders?? tell him about the world outside of this island. tell him it's better out there --- or that it's worse, and maybe finally kill this hope of leaving for him
fellow non-humans who rock his shit by revealing to him that there are even More kinds of creatures out there
good grief this is long, sorry i was trying to provide Options 😞 extra thank you if you got this far 🖤
me personally? i die every night and come back wrong every morning but no one notices because i've been doing that for a long time so it's just kinda par for the course
theartofmadeline
areudirty
pixelskylines
snowghoul
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
