#consilian

[tuwam]

beginnings

sometimes the beginnings are the hardest.

when joowon comes to, he’s struck by the fact that he’s no longer in the couch. it’s alarming because - yunho and jaehyun both know he enjoys sleeping beside hyun the most whether it’s comfortable or not. well, hyun or their fateful leader who has yet to pay them a visit. with the extra shifts he’s been picking up at the coffee shop and his late visits to a certain dreamwalker, all that coupled with trying to show the best of himself whenever they’re with hyun, joowon has had to sleep in intervals. intervals means he falls asleep anywhere his body can get a break even if it’s after a jarring tournament with hyun and hyemi.

he assumes that’s what happened just as he assumes that someone must have moved him from the couch to the bedroom. hyun doesn’t use it much so it doesn’t have the nice wear that the couch does. it’s a nice room though, jowwon sits up and realizes that despite the younger’s insomnia he’s probably done all he can to try and make the room homey for himself. but it’s bare minus the calming mood light nestled on a low nightstand, and the bundled array of sheets.

joowon can think of a few other reasons why it might be impossible for hyun to sleep here. the white walls and the bare space remind him of a time when hyun and him were closer. a time that joowon and the others are trying to decide if they should bring back or keep buried in his psyche. that’s a thought for another day, joowon’s shuffling out the bed and towards the light filtering from the living room. he’s unaware just how tired he’s been when his body starts to weigh in on every step. 

it’d be nice - he decides - if his powers involved the blood in his body turning to lead, or maybe an outer skeleton like titanium, completely encrusting his body. then again - it’d be rather impossible for whoever brought him here to have done it. he takes a breath - touches his arms and face to make sure it’s flesh and not metal before heading out to the living room.

hyemi’s been spending a lot of time here since the first day jaehyun invited her. while joowon isn’t completely sure why the elder decided to invite her, it’s not his business to question it. jaheyun and taewoon alike, arguably know what’s best for hyun and joowon, he’s always going to prefer having their band first and everyone else second. she’s nice, less overbearing than yunho but joowon’s almost positive the two fo them care for hyun in the same way, even if it manifests differently. joowon’s spent the days as close to hyun as the younger will let him and navigating the atmosphere that results from them all being here. being here and quite literally dancing around the truth of who they are with someone who still doesn’t trust them.

and why would she? jaheyun’s decision to invite her goes hand in hand with the decision to not tell her who they are, what they really are and finding their way around that has been, awkward.

joowon walks out the yunho seated in his spot - rude - and jaehyun cleaning the stove. has he been out that long? food’s done and all? hyun is still on the couch but they’re no longer playing games, hyemi is helping him with class work and yunho is pretending not to be interested, typical. joowon can see the glances he makes every five seconds to see what’s going on. he’ll ask hyun about it later, pry and try to make himself more useful than anyone here.

joowon makes his way to the kitchen first, entering jaehyun’s space by handing him a few stray ladles from the stove.

“thanks for moving me earlier.” it’s hard to say it without the pang of annoyance he feels that yunho’s taken his spot. but he is grateful, jaehyun knows how hard it’s been for him to get rest lately, the least joowon can do is say thank you. jaehyun’s response is a hum and a reach past him in order to wipe down the counter.

‘what are you talking about?’ is what he says once he’s done and drying his hands. “from the couch? you moved me to the bedroom.” joowon half expects jaehyun to deny it, to do what he always does when he doesn’t want to take credit for all he does to care for them. hard to do when he’s in an apron and the exact reason the kitchen and surrounding area isn’t a pigsty. but jaehyun’s facial expression isn’t quite that, it’s pure confusion. ‘I'm not the one to thank.’

so that’s strange. instead of pressing further, jowown’s spent enough time to know when the elder isn’t lying. dumbfounded he moves towards the couch, laying his elbow deep in yunho’s shoulder. 

“I never thought you’d be strong enough to move me but thanks.” ‘funny of you to assume I’d even think about moving you.’

joowon’s relationship with yunho is - strange. yunho is older but anyone looking in on them might assume the opposite and might even assume the tension between them is more than sibling rivalry. that’s all it is though, if there’s anyone who might understand him the most, it’s yunho. taewoon is good at handling them, jaehyun is always good at talking but yunho gets it because the emotions are the same, even fi conveyed differently. that’s where the disconnect comes but other than that it’s always bickering with them, no malice in sight. even now when joowon doesn’t lift his elbow and yunho shoots him a glare. 

it’s weird though, because if yunho hadn’t done it. that leaves hyun and hyemi, and he’s sure he doesn’t walk in his sleep. but hyun is definitely not strong enough to lift him, not matter how much soup they’ve been loading him with and hyemi? well it doesn’t make sure for hyemi to care about his wellbeing like that.

as if he can read minds yunho nudges joowon off to get his attention, ‘the ones you should thank are right there.’

so, joowon should thank the stars he’s not a detective because he’s bad at this. second, the more he replays the past few seconds, the more warmth starts to bloom in his chest. hyemi’s sleeves are still rolled up, she and hyun had given him small glances when he’d made his way to the kitchen. neither had said anything and if joowon were more invested he’d have seen the smiles, the looks, remembering the scent that’s to different from hyun’s own lingering close to his clothes. 

but he’s only known routine when it’s their group, so the tendency is to block hyemi out and try to fit hyun somewhere, anywhere. yunho’s acceptance of her place with them had begun with hostility and then quiet, reserved and just a little catty. for joowon, he’s never too outward with his expression, his worry of hyemi taking away the one thing he’s been wishing for since he’d regained part of his memories. he’s been smiling, hesitant to be in their space, share their space. now though, he’s sure he has no other option. hyun trusts her, in ways that the others might not be able to but that’s not their call. in the same way hyemi doesn’t trust them in the way hyun might. in the way they want hyun to.

joowon turns to them finally, and scoots his way between yunho and hyun to wrap his arms around the younger’s head and rub his fist into his hair. the statics that spark up tickle and joowon is quick to hide them in his sweatshirt while the younger squirms. a light in the kitchen flickers and he hears jaehyun call his name once before he relents.

“when’d you get so strong, you’re lifting me and tucking me into bed what a prince.” hun’s face is red, ducked further into the screen of his computer and joowon laughs. it’s loud, genuine and fond. and he uses that to finally turn to hyemi. “thank you, for earlier.”

‘it’s not a big deal.’ hyun’s mumbling the words and joowon’s chest tightens, the urge to hold the younger close is strong. he turns and finds hyemi has the same look on his face.

they can do this. they don’t have much of a choice if they want to remain around someone they both care so much about. but joowon thinks maybe now it seems more doable than before.

[hwitelie]

my character [yeonmi] will be hyped up on coffee and pester yours.

hwiyoung finds himself questioning if he really likes women at all, the thought at the forefront of his mind as he eyes a girl in question from his seat on the couch, his brows knit together while his lips tilt into the slightest of frowns. it’s not that he doesn’t enjoy his time with yeonmi, their meetings were just complicated to say the least. the blonde couldn’t remember how exactly he’d bumped into her in the first place, nor how he’d been wrapped so quickly around the younger’s much richer finger. he runs a hand through his hair at the thought, quickly messing it up and blinking before he fully focuses on the girl in front of him who’d been ranting about her instagram much longer than he cared to listen.

“mm, yeah you’re right, they are a bunch of idiots for not liking your pictures.” this time when he frowns, he’s doing it to play along, shaking his head as though he can’t believe her photos aren’t swarming with likes. honestly, he was a bit surprised she wasn’t more popular given her social status and the way she clothed herself as though she were draping herself in money. hwiyoung still couldn’t wrap his head around how easy it was for the younger to throw money around, greedily lining his own pockets when she offered to a certain extent. he didn’t really feel comfortable accepting gifts from her, not wanting to give her the wrong idea, nor did he want to become indebted to her in anyway.

though, it was much too late for that, but he didn’t see that yet. he was one step behind in her game. while he was adjusting his pawns, she’d already reached checkmate. perhaps it was the fact he couldn’t see past her spoiled nature to see just how much she resembled himself while somehow managing to be his polar opposite all the same. she was an enigma, and maybe that was why he hung around her besides the chance to play as a rich kid for once in his life.

after speaking he pulls out his own phone and double taps on her photo, waiting for her smile at the notification. his own instagram only held four photos so far, made a few days prior by her request. one was a blurry mirror photo where he held his fingers in a peace sign, the caption something about chicken nuggets. of course, she’d bought them for him, but he hadn’t thought to mention that part. the next photo was of hyemi, again blurry, and taken from across the room. she wasn’t happy about it, but hwiyoung had found it hilarious and refused to delete it despite her threats. the other two were random photos he’d taken around the city, and he made the decision to snap another while she kept talking. it was of his shoes, a pair he’d managed to buy thanks to yeonmi’s money. he almost grimaces at the thought, but posts it nonetheless, a caption a single purple heart.

she’s still talking, something about shoes now, and he wonders how long it will take her to notice he’s posted. probably not long, considering the younger was always glued to her phone, but he’d wonder what she say nonetheless.

“hey, yeonmi, instead of buying shoes why don’t we go get dinner instead? if we go somewhere cheap, i’ll buy. i have enough for two small meals.” hwiyoung stands and grins, gesturing towards the door with his thumb. “it’d be more fun than sitting around all day. after we can go to the park or something. plus, it might chill you out a little, you’re bouncing off the walls right now and maybe you’ll even find a cute boy to fawn over.” he waggles his brows a little at the end, only teasing, and lets out a small laugh. “up to you!”

[zcilovs-archive]

(𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤) where things start   ‹  @consilian​ ; surrounding hyunbin & jaehyun ›

not going to university was not actually something that would be considered normal in korea and yet there was hyunbin with a full flower shop which he could not leave unattended long enough to actually enroll in university. although there was now jungho and siwoo to take care of the store it was still hard on hyunbin to trust the two of them to leave them alone at the store. not because he had trust issued but rather because it was the one thing that his grandparents left to him after passing away. it was his sanctuary, the only thing that mattered to hyunbin for so long. with all the flowers inside and all the love that the little place had been filled with. 

“how do you do that, just, you know, sit down and read the same page like a hundred times?” it wasn’t that hyunbin had counted how many seconds had passed since the boy had last looked up from the paper he was looking at. or how long he was actually staring at the pages. although his friends were actually in university - miyoung as his only friend who was in university - he had never spend time with them when they had to prepare for course work or when they did home work. it was boring to hyunbin only because he was the only one who did not have something to do. his flowers had been watered, every bouquet was prepared and the bigger projects would only need to be started the actual day before the wedding to make sure the flowers would look as pretty as they could. 

“i’m actually glad you did agree to come here to do whatever you need to do for university.” the male smiled slightly at the other. “not like i can really leave the store without having to close it for business.” 

[intuwam]

things happening in space and time | fantasy au.

@consilian aka how minjae is fucking up the rotation! currently!

minjae & hyuck are trapped in the dungeon of the southern seelie king yunho who has kidnapped the head of the institute kwon mina. they have been in the dungeon for almost a week after their ambush team was ambushed by the king’s spies.

humans interfering in seelie affairs is not only forbidden but is punishable by any law of the territory being encroached upon. as minjae and hyuck are in yunho’s territory he holds the bargaining chip regardless of whether he kidnapped mina first or not and he can very well kill the two with no fear of repercussion. 

his reasons for kidnapping mina stem from a childhood infatuation that was deemed forbidden by the previous southern court, fueling yunho’s rage and need for power and control.

soyeon, now head of the institute in mina’s absence is working on a solution, a loophole to ask the human realm to help rescue mina, citing the efforts the institute has taken to protect human kingdoms from supernatural uprisings and the war between vampires, witches, faes and dwarves that somehow they always end up caught between. soyeon was very persuasive in citing that without the institue, they had no protection other than freelancers in need of some coin. she’s received approval and was PLANNING on meeting with the emperor first and then forcing yunho into a meeting that would allow mina’s safe return.

minjae’s plan effectively ruined that but the king still needs to know the status of things so kihyun ( a freelancer ) and jaehyun are tasked with meeting the acclaimed emperor whose existence is forever shrouded in mystery. though soyeon is unsure, there are rumors that they might need to make a show of the rumored knights to help bend king yunho’s will.

meanwhile in the human realm, the challenge to prince - soon-to-be king soohyun weighs on julee’s father. the king has given a timespan of fourteen days until the duel should take place. no one says anything but the way the days tick by, things won’t be the same for either kingdom afterwards. time is running out, increased activity has made human kingdoms desperate for protection and alliances to protect themselves from treachery in the form of witchraft. smaller kingdoms are rising up, larger kingdoms are nearing corruption and even the emperor’s name won’t be enough to hold loyalty for long.

[tsdrats]

@consilian

“what do you think they know?” who haneul? 

miyoung’s voice is an echo at first.

it’s raining again. it’s been raining for quite some time. haneul tries to count it in droplets and fails. then he tries to count it in the smudges and the melts of droplets together on the window. he fails. so he tries counting it in sounds. he fails again.

he can still hone in on her words, the same delicately placed curiosity that she gives him. that she allows. it’s so different from what he’s used to even if it’s their norm. even if it’s one of his few anchors, it still surprises him. not enough to move him, shift him from the way he watches the plants on the windowsill. 

they don’t move either aside from the small gusts of wind that filer underneath the window. subtle. monumental. haneul thinks that’s probably how life moves against him. subtle but monumental. he’s both boneless and bone heavy. it’s tiring.

“the people living in the plants.” these are the things that would make his sister sigh, fond, concerned. the strange mixture of both that made haneul unsure if she was someone he could hug or someone whose hugs he just had to take. he was unsure how much of himself he wanted to lay in her, body or mind. family or not. he was cautious. unlike the way he just speaks and speaks and subconsciously worries about the tire that might be in miyoung’s voice. that could come.

it never does.

he hears the start of a laugh, feels relief open his chest with a breath he didn’t know he’d had.

‘what do you think they know?’ “i think they know we’re not giants.” ‘how do you know you’re not a giant?’ “i don’t. be cool if i was though.”

if he moves in that second, to give her a smile, he doesn’t quite feel it. he doesn’t quite notice it because it’s not as jarring, pulling from his thoughts and his space to join hers. it’s as fleeting as the words are but it still happens. the return to space even if he’s back watching the windowsill, back to watching the rain and sitting in the sounds.

[softeurs]

@consilian​ ( ft. hyunwoo ; but he honestly really shows up only in the last paragraph, i rambled ok but here is the payback B) )

Sash had first felt the idea of freedom when she’d killed her abusive uncle, with her bare hands, with the sharp edge of the last plate he’d thrown at her. She’d felt it in all the tips of her fingers, the quiver of her lower lip and the bright wide stance of her eyes as her gaze had stayed frozen on the sight before her young eyes. 

However, she had felt the idea of it being nothing more than just a feeling when she was twenty and punished for missing the mark on her fifth mission. Locked in a room for a forced isolation that had her nearly go insane. Fed sporadically during the week. 

She could remember to this day going in and out of consciousness without any idea as to what time it was, what it was, even forgetting the month or to even breathe at all at times. Her hunger stopped mattering after the fourth meal, her thirst became long lasting even when she had water to quench it. Her mind losing itself in depths she’d never thought she could belong in. 

At twenty Sash understood that where she’d found herself, the hands that had supposedly given her wings had in actuality clipped her feathers together, unleashing them only when it was convenient to them. That was not freedom. 

Coming out of isolation made everything else brighter and yet insignificant, it made her see the world different. As an endless cage that one simply never found themselves unchained from. Sash’s view of her work, of the people she was working with, the lives she was about to take to not lose sight of her own, they all became one big mash of nothing. Nothing and everything at the same time.

She became the type of machine that worked accordingly and never did anything else but work accordingly. She inadvertently gave up on ever really knowing what flying with her own accord could ever mean. The feeling of it vanished, gone with the years, time, the ticking of its clock. The older she grew in this profession the more she forgot about the things she wanted when she was younger.

A different picture from the kids running around in this park, from the little girl wearing a halo on top of her hand, fixed tight and secure. Moving with the wind and her energized laps across the field, wings just as firmly attached to her back, not letting her go, not letting her crash. 

Being on the road had started to feel like the wind the child was going against and it shouldn’t. For many reasons, number one being, this was also a mission. Albeit a different kind, where no one was supposed to get killed, but--that was only if things went well. She wanted things to go well.

Sash hadn’t wanted a lot of things in her life, had stopped wishing, because she just didn’t have the mind to it and she knew that no matter how strongly she prayed, she’d still wake up the next day in an unfamiliar environment and still be bound by an oath. 

But she was wishing today. 

A rush of something unknown came with a small voice, for a moment Sash believed to have heard her own mind. But the small, slightly out of breath, high pitched, “Hi!” was too far from even the voice of the kid she’d known herself to be. 

She looked down to find herself staring straight at a pair of bright brown eyes. The clearest she’d ever had the chance to look into, the halo was still unshaken on top of the little head looking up at her. 

“Do you like flowers?” 

Strange question, stranger even that the child had decided to come and speak to her of all people. Sash was certain she didn’t look like the most approachable stranger in this park. Hyunwoo would have been a better choice, given how he was now swimming in a sea of kids on the side when he’d said he was just going to find a washroom and he was the reason they were even stopping in this park.

But here she was, being spoken to either way. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to interact with a child. Sash leaned forward on her knees, at least to get to the girl’s height, look a little less menacing--maybe. 

“Why do you ask?”  “There’s a pretty one in your hair!” 

A flower in her hair? Her eyes glanced sideways as if she would be able to catch sight of it, but her fingers came to the rescue, touching both side of her head and sure enough, she touched the clip and rounded the corners of its shape. Hyunwoo’s doing and Sash hadn’t thought she would still be wearing it, or keeping it at all, but a bathroom break and the sight of it in the mirror and she’d decided why not. It made her look even more out of place and less like the trained assassin she was. 

It was a mundanely soft touch to her appearance.

“It’s not a real flower.”  “But it’s pretty, I’ll trade you.” “Trade me?”

The girl gave a vigorous nod, now Sash was noticing that her hands had been behind her back only when she brought them front, holding a small bouquet of only three flowers. Small purple petals were barely blown by the abrupt show and Sash couldn’t stop her smile. 

So, you meant to tell her this little girl saw something she liked on a stranger, decided to find something she thought would have the same value in order to obtain what she wanted? Without even stopping to think what if the stranger refuses? What if this offering of mine is not enough? 

No, no, she looked too proud and confident to have thought that this was not more than enough. To her, this little bouquet, it didn’t matter where she plucked them from, didn’t matter if the object she sought with them had more value, to her, it was simply not fathomable.

Sash’s finger undid the clip, not because she could careless or hadn’t grown attached to the feeling of it locked against her hair, it helped with keeping the growing side bangs out of her face. 

She held it out, her other hand open palm to receive her reward. 

Hyunwoo came to her side a few minutes after the exchange. Looking out of breath because he’d been running with some of the kids in the end. 

“So this is your style.” She asked not even a second after he was sat on the bench next to her. 

“What is?”  “Childish behaviors.” 

It would be time to head on the road again, in a few minutes. Maybe when he’d caught his breath enough to start walking. 

“Well, they’re adorably persuasive.” He remarked between gasping breaths. 

That was a good way of putting it. Sash reached for the bottle sitting next to her, courtesy of sending her little friend of earlier to get her two of them while she was making the silliest trade she’d ever made in her life.

“Here,” The bottle was held for barely two seconds and snatched as if a pause had been necessary to her giving. “We’ll need to find a place to shower because you’ll be stinking in the car now.” 

She grabbed her own and took a few gulps, the refreshing flavor of water melon in the water made her close her eyes afterwards. The sun seemed to hit differently everywhere they drove. The further away from the city they ended up, the better it felt, the more she looked forward to seeing it every morning.

She turned to him when she felt his gaze on her, “What?”

“The hair clip, you took it out.”

Oh, right, she’d been wearing it for days of course it was a bit strange now to feel the side of her head a little less heavy. It immediately brought her back to the small gift by her side and she turned to get a hold of the bouquet.

“Correction, I traded it with an angel.”

She completely understood his confusion, his frown, his look of what are you on right now Sash, because she was smiling like she had a secret. Sash didn’t have many that could bring on a smile, it wasn’t lost on both of them. 

“And now,” She moved swiftly and didn’t flinch at how he backed away from her hands for a second. That actually made her feel good, she was afraid she’d lost her touch because of how unbothered he seemed to constantly be with her.

After all, Sash was a trained assassin, it was a little wounding to know that he forgot about it at all. Or that he didn’t think her capable of doing what she’d been groomed to do for years. Just a little. Because the rest of the time, it was with content that she appreciated his lack of scare towards her. 

“Stay still.” 

Against the wind and the cheering of kids dissipating in the back, regular noise of a busy street, all she wanted was for Hyunwoo to not move as she closed in. Just so she could slide the flower against his ear. 

“I’m just making you look pretty.” She added for good measure, pulling away with a satisfaction she hoped matched the one of the little girl’s after she’d obtained Sash’s hair clip. 

Every one should walk around with that feeling in their chest, the one of a child who got what he wanted, no matter the measures he went to in order to get it. The innocent need fulfilled, the smallest ones, the ones that lingered and one took a look in the mirror and felt good about it each time they went and revisited the memory. 

Sash left the bench before she could assess his reaction, grabbing her bottle, throwing over her shoulder, “Well now we know purple is your color.” 

[tidebreak]

BABY STEPS

"...But kinda bluesy, like John Mayer- are you listening?”

“...Uh-huh.”

Can’t say he doesn’t deserve the guitar pick-turned-ammunition aimed straight for his shoulder, not that it appears to phase him.  Few things do.  These days, though, he seems particularly at ease-- as if he’s transcended general good-naturedness to become Buddha himself.  Which is impressive.  But also suspicious.  

She suspects it has something to do with the recent development in their relationship.  Well, her sister does.  So does Gayoung, who’s also adopted an all-knowing expression at the mention of his name, which is both disturbing and annoying (leave it to Hayeon to broadcast her personal information to whomever she pleases).  With the two of them breathing down her neck at every opportunity, she’s starting to think this is getting out of hand.  Their interest in whatever this is, she means.

Whatever this is.

An idle strum, legs rocking to the side to peer closer at the screen.  No new e-mails yet.  Results aren’t supposed to be sent out for another two minutes, but she’s starting to get antsy.  Kimoon seems to sense it, fingers brushing against hers soon after.  A natural consequence of habit now, the little touches of reassurance here and there-- not that they’ve been serving their intended purpose.  Probably just the caffeine. Who am I kidding?

“Oh my god, it’s here-- open it-wait!” Down the guitar goes.  Her hands take on a newfound purpose, effectively obscuring her view instead.  Vaguely, she can feel him shifting beside her before the recognizable clicks of her laptop mouse follow.  A pause. “...Congratulations.  Your song has been chosen to represent-” Oh my god. “Oh my god.”  (For emphasis.)

After rereading said e-mail four times, Hana allows herself a little victory dance, complete with vigorous footwork and clumsy spins.  Kimoon just watches and laughs. “Told you you could do it.  Leap of faith, right?” That reminds her: just above his head, in puffy paint, a very poignant drawing of stick figures (one stubby-legged, the other obscenely long).  And in Gayoung’s messy, childlike handwriting: TAKE THE LEAP OF FAITH. 

“I’m taking it,” she tells no one in particular.  Before he can react, she stoops towards where he’s seated on the floor and presses a kiss to his mouth.  There’s a beat of silence.  Then:

“...You missed.” 

“Shut up.”

[rottenfrvit]

[ sms » yeojin ] i heard the news! [ sms » yeojin ] congrats!! [ sms » yeojin ] i was wondering when it’d finally happen lmao

@consilian !

[eterneli]

@consilian (x)

there is no beginning nor end to their story, only a liquescent timeline synthesizing into a new puzzle. as if iron was taken to the forge, melted away and molded into something new — though said something new is yet to be ascertained. at least one puzzle piece still remains, which is the grounds in which they meet halfway. where exorbitant luxury emanates from the ceiling to the walls to the carpeted ground, threads originated from the highest houses in england and delicacies crafted by renowned chefs.

he never was one for opulence, still finds the smell of splendor rather odd, yet here they are.

everything had been flowing swimmingly this evening as it did several times before: a little catch up chat, a little coffee and tea. which is precisely why baekhyun is taken aback by the unforeseen blur in his vision, or the unannounced numbness on his legs and the ineptitude to speak for a minute.

it is safe to assume that the cold he feels against his palms is the glass window they had been mingling around, and that the pain that surges on his calf was a product of kicking a nearby chair. stumbling isn’t elegant, much less in a place like this, so amidst murky waters he opts for following the aiding voice that cuts through the fog. it is really all he can do anyway.

with partial sight restored and some strength to his muscles, the pianist drags his feet towards the guided direction before collapsing against appointed the armchair. “thank you.” a murmur as face falls to his hands.

index and thumb pinch the bridge of his nose, sliding further to rub the corner of his eyes. breathe in, breathe out. the room isn’t spinning anymore when he dares to raise his head and he takes it as a good sign. hazel hues drift from the artistic wall before him to the man by the window, a faint chuckle elicited when lips part to speak. “something like that.” pathetic isn’t a good look, thus the straightening of his posture, legs naturally crossing to rest atop each other as fingers thread through silky locks. “nights have not been so kind as to allow me some sleep lately.”

in that moment he wonders if junho even so much as cares. their relationship has always been a tug of war, push and pull from both sides. entertaining, yes, but never too profound. brows furrow for a second or two as he ponders his own words, hesitates as lips part and close a couple times — baekhyun isn’t one to consult others after all. but he is a desperate man in desperate times.

it is his turn to sigh. “do you happen to have any advice? some method perhaps. something to soothe the mind so i can rest my head.” at least for one night.

[kkotseo]

— in response to @consilian

Careless, foolish and jaded, an awful combination if you were to ask Seoah. 

An amazing feat even, if interpreted on the brighter side of things. To construct a reply deemed just to her wit in the midst of a battle with undesired slumber deserved an applaud. Alas, the soloist didn’t even have the strength to do so herself. The weight of her body sunk her further to the ground. The wall she leaned against barely had the support she needed to stay seated. The carpet felt cozy, almost like a cushion. Rough to the touch indeed, though better than the cold parquet. 

Seoah wished to speak more. Speech consumed too much energy, a function disabled when the soloist was in power-saving mode. Given the current circumstances, her mind was close to shutting down. However, stubborn impulse kept her pushing to her limits despite the physical warnings. Also, if it wasn’t for Daehyun, she would forfeit to inelegant conducts for a rest. 

Presence. His was an undeniable reminder to where they were. A hotel hobby, deserted due to the wee hours of the morning. Supposedly deserted since she disrupted the unsaid normalcy with her fatigued posture, head hung low by gravity. A jolt of surprise ensued as a result of the pain on her neck, eyes wide for a second. Lights too bright, eyelids quick to shield her dark orbs from environmental discomfort. She could only laugh sleepily to reassure the shadow she saw briefly. Embarrassment couldn’t get the upper hand, it seemed. Consciousness wasn’t around to reinforce the emotion as it should. She stuck to humour instead with her chuckle lingering longer than intended.

Movements. She could barely tell. To distinguish what happened around her became an arduous task. But she was in good hands. Seoah knew that much. Daehyun was a friend she trusted wholeheartedly. If not for her semi-consciousness, gratitude would be expressed better than a sloppy smile hung on her lips.

Then, a gentle touch. A better source of support found her side. Warmer and definitely comfier than the wall which encouraged the soloist to stand finally. Wobbled steps to stay in place and heavy eyelids still draped over her blurred vision, she held onto him a bit too forcefully as her weight quadrupled, unable to withhold it herself. ❝ Daehyun...? ❞ A strong yet careful grip maintained her stable before proceeding to where her room was. She followed the motion without restraint, tilted head resting on a shoulder. 

❝ You don’t... have to. ❞ Mumbles occurred at sparse timings. With her senses numbed by exhaustion, her strength rendered nonexistent, incredible how her fighting spirit remained. ❝ You need rest too... ❞ Her lame attempts to reason him fell silent once she found the bed’s comfort. The pillow’s contact was enough to send her where she should be: Dreamland.

Seoah’s stay there felt short. Returning to reality with a supposedly charged battery proved itself deceitful. The brain buffered last night’s events as slow as it was a few hours earlier until the story unfolded to a shocking realization. A growl muffled under the blankets conveniently placed up to her nose, dishevelled hair pushed back from her face once she sat, hands were quick to grab her phone. Good thing he was not around to witness her flustered reaction or he wouldn’t hear the end of her nagging.

[ ✉ → 문대헌 ]

Wakey, wakey, Daehyun-ah! The birds are chirping and so should you! ㅎㅎ Our plans for today still work, right? I better see you!

And hmm... about last night, I hope I wasn’t much of a hassle... 

Thanks for that though. If I have done anything stupid, please kindly erase all unflattering images of me from your conscience! (＾▽＾)

An exhale once her phone fell off her grasp, landing on duvet. Oh well, what happened couldn’t be undone. Tiredness would always follow her. No matter what, as if it was part of her lifestyle. She would have done the same for him, if roles were to switch someday. Seoah definitely would.

[tuwam]

come back.

@consilian

‘what are you looking for?’

miyoung’s fidgeting beside him. haneul knows because there’s the tell-tale feeling of her socks wiggling against his legs. he knows because if he were to turn his head he’d see how she snuggles closer and closer into the blanket. if he looks he’d see the strange cast that cloudy rainy mornings leave on someone’s face when they look out a window. it’s the same window that haneul hasn’t stopped staring at. the same raindrops that have him mesmerized, curious. a million dots and each one becoming and dissolving in seconds.

he thinks life might be like that.

miyoung must know because each fidget is a call for him to come to earth. it’s a phrase they use nowadays. come back haneul. said without the malice of his youth, of kids who didn’t know why haneul was always staring and never speaking. a young haneul who didn’t know either. he just knew he had thoughts, concerns, and there was so much he didn’t understand. there was so much about the world around him he didn’t understand, so many things that hurt so much they didn’t feel real, so many times people told him the things that hurt weren’t real.

he doesn’t understand. so he searches.

for the things that might hurt and the things that might, make him smile.

it’s a small little thing, almost like its fighting to come through. haneul fighting the urge to stay, suspended among each dot that lines the window. to stay mesmerized to the point that he thinks he can dissolve too. fall into the window and into the mass, become something as simple and short as rain. come and go and come and go. 

miyoung doesn’t nudge him again, it’s the two she’d done before registering minutes later. actually moving him. nudging him so his hold on the window shifts, spins a bit and he finally hears the question again. 

“i’m looking for,” he has to think. because he’s not sure he’d been looking for anything really. nothing in particular. no shapes, no answers, nobody. nothing. he’s just, looking. but to miyoung it must look like something and that must be why she asks. even if she doesn’t get an answer she still asks, she still stays beside him. she exists and she waits. effortlessly so. he tries to think of what to say to that. he thinks of what the rain might say to him, as it drips past his face and slides into one. as it passes by watching him helplessly. 

“i’m not sure what i’m looking for.” is his answer. it’s an answer. it’s the best he can do and he’s almost sad he can’t do more, give more. he thinks, parts of him might already be scattered in all the raindrops outside. 

‘okay,’ he half expects that to be it. expects her to let him be and maybe even go off and do her own thing. but he feels her presence stronger than ever, the curl of a blanket around his shoulder. haneul hadn’t realized he was getting cold until the feeling disappeared. and it’s quick, it’s with miyoung placing a mug in his hand, holding it for a tick as if she knows he doesn’t have all his strength yet. but her face comes into focus, and his smile peeks through again. ‘let’s find something to look for then.’

he agrees to that. a nod that’s as silent as the breath he blows over the tea. 

they’ll find something. they always do. 

and haneul will come back for those moments. he always will.

[hwitelie]

@consilian // 🍕 wake my muse with a shoulder shake

it’d been a long day. he’d spent most of it huddled in the corner of his own apartment, blankets wrapped tightly around his frame with a book resting in his lap, his eyes glued on the contents. the book itself was nothing important, just something he’d snagged at the store while he’d been out running errands. for now, it was safer for him to be at home, but he still found himself incredibly bored. 

behind the door of his room sat a pile of mismatched items, collected over the two years he’d lived in his small home, a pile he hoped none would ever lay their eyes on. to this day, he wasn’t sure what led him to create his collection, nor was he sure if many of the items still held any sort of significance to him. even so, he found the idea of going through the pile and throwing any of the items out to be too big of a bother so he let it sit. if he ever left, he’d either find a way to lug the pile with him or find a way to dispose of it quickly. in the end, it didn’t really matter. did anything hwiyoung did matter? maybe not. he didn’t care, or maybe he did. that was a mystery even he needed to figure out.

a sigh escapes from his lips and hwiyoung dog ears the page of his book and sets it aside, letting his head gently knock back against his white wall. he worries his lip for a moment, eyes falling shut, before he throws his blanket off and rises with a stretch. his eyes flutter open and he grabs the back of his neck with a quiet grumble, giving it a slight rub he makes his way to his bedroom only to let his gaze settle onto the pile before him. it’s starting to get out of control, but the boy finds himself settling onto his knees before it, his hand reaching out for the first item he can get his hands on.

trash. that’s what most people would consider it, but to hwiyoung it was something more, at least, that’s what he told himself. a piece of a mug he’d dropped while with a friend, the cup itself no longer usable, but the broken piece of glass still important to him nonetheless. he almost grins thinking back to that time, but sets it aside gently nonetheless, intent on seeing what other treasures he can dig up. it’s only a few minutes into his rummaging that he finds a crisp paper, a receipt he doesn’t recognize until he sees the name listed on it.

hyemi.

hwiyoung suddenly has something much more important to do that doesn’t involve rediscovering his treasure pile, and he’s quick to set the receipt back down and rise to his feet. he rushes over to slip on his shoes and is quick to leave, making sure to lock his door before he makes his way to the one place he’ll always know she’ll be. the blonde wasn’t dumb, he knew that his unannounced visits were not something hyemi exactly enjoyed, but when he found himself growing restless circling within his own melancholy, something drew him to the woman. he couldn’t put a name on their relationship, didn’t know if he wanted to, but he knew he cherished it in a way he didn’t with many other people. in a sense, she was a treasure to him as well, except she was real, tangible, and couldn’t be thrown into a pile for him to reminisce about later. she was ever changing, could decide one day to never speak to him again, and the thought made him sad. 

he gets in how he always does and settles himself onto the edge of her bed, waiting. he figures it won’t be long before she arrives, letting his eyes glance around the room a bit, but time drags on longer than he expects. hwiyoung lies down, fingers laced together on his chest, one foot bobbing back and forth. he waits and waits, hums himself a little tune, waits some more. she’s still not back, which is odd he thinks, but he knows she’ll be back soon. he hopes she’ll be back. his eyes are a bit tired so he shuts them, sighing quietly, but soon the calming darkness of sleep takes him, and for the first time in a while, he doesn’t have any nightmares. 

he wakes with a yawn, eyes blinking once, twice before they widen. he shoots up in the bed, fearful he’s ended up somewhere he shouldn’t be before he realizes he’s in hyemi’s room. hwiyoung rubs at his eyes, and it’s then he notices the blanket now resting at his hips. he doesn’t remember covering himself with a blanket, but then he sees her and he lets out an exasperated sigh at the sight. hyemi lie there on a couple of pillows and despite himself, the first thing he asks himself is why she didn’t just shove him out of the bed. he feels funny then, a feeling he once again can’t place, but he doesn’t dwell on it, instead rising and padding quietly over.

he debates for a moment whether or not he should just lift her and place her into the bed, but thinks that if she were to wake she’d probably punch him if she found herself in his arms. he’d deserve it too. she looks peaceful like this, a sort of tranquility in her features hwiyoung hasn’t witnessed before. he hesitates for a moment, studies her perhaps a few seconds too long, then finally reaches out to give her shoulder a small shake. she, of course, doesn’t stir right away, leaving hwiyoung to shake her a bit harder.

“hey, sleepyhead, get up you’re gonna get a backache sleeping on the floor like that.” 

with the combination of both his voice and his hand on her shoulder, her eyes flutter open and hwiyoung offers her a cheeky grin.

“listen, as comfy as your bed is, you should be the one sleeping in it, not me.” a pause, his smile subsiding into something smaller. “but, um, thanks. i must have been tired.”

he doesn’t go into more detail, doesn’t let her in on the things he’d been doing in the dark, and she doesn’t ask. maybe she never would. perhaps it’d be for the best.

one day the shadows would catch up to him and he didn’t want to drag her down with him.

[zcilovs-archive]

(𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤) where things start   ‹  @consilian​ ; surrounding hyeongun & hanbyul  ›

slow days like these were what hyeongun lived for. the moment when he finally felt like the world around him was slowing down, not those that expected more than he was able to be ready for. those who required him to face his fears and hidden fragments of life. those days were what kept him from ending everything. they showed him there were still reasons to go on, better days to brighten the worse days even though it was hard to remember those when he fell down the rabbit hole. in the end, it didn’t matter what it was about those days that hyeongun loved as long as they made him go on. it wasn’t even a day where he felt like shooting up something up his veins to just be able to go back to sleep and not move for the rest of the day. for the hours that would non the less pass by him without being of importance. 

usually, days when hyeongun decided to sit down to draw weren’t exactly that happy. drawing -although his passion - hurt more due to frustration of seeking perfection. hyeongun was used to be hard on himself, pushed himself past limits when it came to his art so it wasn’t surprised that days like those ended with another intake of whatever he was on at the moment. today drawing came almost easy to him, letting out emotions that he had kept hidden, pouring his frustration of the past day, of the past into one drawing. one that he would definitely throw out before anyone got to see it just because he wouldn’t want anyone to ask questions that he could not answer. his art was often abstract leading for explanations from other being sought out even when there was no explanation. maybe that was another reason why hyeongun did not feel like he could ever make it big. the pressure on his shoulder to be someone talented, someone who made drawings people could relate to and found some sort of catharsis looking at them. 

“hyung.” the male exclaimed as he opened the door, face covered in paint, fingers too, looking like an absolute mess. with music and emotions pouring out of the male he hadn’t paid much attention to his surroundings or where he had gotten paint where it dripped and where it had flown. “you didn’t even tell me you were coming.” a slow smile spread over his features as he looked at the other male. for some reasons he was relieved the male didn’t show up when he was at his worst but when he was quite okay. 

[redemptioninterlude]

Soft afternoons, the kinds that lull - that stretch out, sideways, upwards. A body that feels all hers and too big at the same time, between 10 feet tall and something out of body, she floats, more than she walks, along these floorboards. The cafe’s busy today and maybe that’s a blessing, but by the time the afternoon has sung its swan song, the lovely couples, the listless students, they all EMPTY this place to find more suitable sustenance to carry them through into the night. There aren’t many people left behind on days like this, the sun hanging low and lazy within the sky, the shadows lengthening between the buildings; but there’s a girl there, bent spine and pretty lips, all puckered in marks about the edges of the coffee cup at the side, a pencil in hand--

-- which is pretty, Alice thinks, but everything that Sieun does is pretty. It’s unconscious, likely, the sort of thing that comes from girls who are brilliant and know their ways around words in clever ways, twisty tongue and interesting limericks, there’s so much to being good at what she is that most people don’t realize until they’ve seen her in action. It’s news stories, she thinks, though sometimes it doesn’t look like it, but Alice doesn’t like to pry (oh god that’s not true, she’s dying to know, all sticky fingered wonder and curiosity always threatening to TAKE OVER if she isn’t careful). 

Tongue slips and trips over her bottom lip, cracked and a little nervously bitten over, despite the balm she smoothes over it while glancing at the clock. Tick, tock, tick, tock -- when will she be free? There’s still two hours on her shift, and the place is close to dead, so nothing stops her as her quiet steps lead her up to the other girl’s side, carefully filling up the empty cup, that polite shyness a mask for the morbidly interested person within. CARE is required in a place like this, a measure of delicateness, that Alice may or may not possess; “What are you working on?” is it a new story, is it something else? What’s coming, what’s going on, what’s wrong with the world today?

A flip of caramel hair (today), a smile on her lips that lights up the room, all laser focused on a girl who’s more than JUST A GIRL. Handle lowering as the glass container is placed upon the wood grain of the table. “You look pretty serious writing it so... I’m wondering what has you looking like that today.”

a starter for @consilian // sieun

[xiiaoshuo]

*  — @consilian​

eden ╳ ⋮            DESPITE THE PROFOUND effect that his own ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ had had on him, eden has never spoken about it to anyone. who would he even bring this up to? his parents were religious enough to pray for his recovery ( &&, apparently, his RESURRECTION ) but surely not enough to believe that he had come back to life. not without asking if he was ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ at any rate. but then who to speak to? a therapist would surely think it was a ｍｅｔａｐｈｏｒ of some kind && anyone left would likely be actually insane. so eden has kept it to himself all these years.

&& in all ｆａｉｒｎｅｓｓ, he didn’t remember it;; his death anyway. but things had changed for him, like feeling the earth was several degrees off its axis. besides all the other things that came with becoming a hong ( the wings, the fairy dust, the voices ) he suddenly felt far more 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝓊𝓃𝑒𝒹 to the things around him. more aware of the supernatural at any rate. 

it’s the sense that brings his eyes to her that night. it’s like a ｃｈｉｌｌ that runs through him && it’s new. it’s new because he’s never felt this strange kind of 𝓈𝓎𝓃𝒸𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓃𝒾𝓏𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃, like two violins finally coming in tune with one another. he doesn’t know what it is ( he wouldn’t know what to say if she asked why he was staring ) but his vision narrows in && the conversation around him disappears. until he’s left to think: do i know her?    [ ✨ ]

[softeurs]

❛ did i get anything right? ❜ @ marie from miyoung ~

( source ) & accepting

‘well-’ she was a good judge, most of the times. good judge of characters, good judge of people’s intentions. sometimes it was the most irritating thing to have too, that instinct that almost never failed her. marie enjoyed it only with certain people, miyoung was one of them. sweet and now looking a little unsure miyoung who seemed to always be asking for something to be judged from her. 

the idea itself of never be sure of what one was doing did not make one a terrible person, perhaps a little frustrating if they were interacting with someone with less patience for those type of things. but marie had patience, lots of it. if marie was left with nothing else in the world, her patience would still be there. 

without it, she would miserably fail at doing her job. so it was a 100% welcomed. ‘not to be a hard critic, but the tone is important.’ she wasn’t trying to go full on vocal coach on miyoung, god forbid, because that marie could be overbearing and critical very fast and seemed to never be satisfied with nothing else but perfection. 

her hands moved in small gestures, ‘angelina jolie in this role was very sure of herself, you want to go that route more than any other. but not too much, she always has this air about her, even when she’s playing an overconfident character, it’s still calm, contained.’ 

it helped that the woman was gorgeous and knew how to let herself slide in the role itself of course. miyoung was no trained actress, marie and her were just having fun with imitating various actors in various movies. because they were a great source of inspirations for many of the lessons she gave and examples she could give to her students, homework and the like. 

‘try the same line one more time, but--’ maybe adding a little extra something would make it work. marie stood from the couch where she’d been sitting evaluating miyoung with all her attention to get a hold of her hand have her follow to marie’s bedroom. ‘i have the perfect clothes for this! it’s even easier to find the voice if you have the outfit that matches, did you know that?’ 

and a mirror too, god, she forgot that part. the huge decorative mirror in her bedroom would definitely be a plus.