#lock jinseok

[xhxnne]

Seohyun would never understand why this man was so frustrating. The frustration built as she listened to his response, crossing his arms and watching the man. "That's your flaw, I must say. That you can't end it with a simple compliment. You get a little bit of sweetness and you dig and dig for more. The greed is insatiable." Her arms crossed before she continued, eye contact locked in Jinseok. "I give out the points, and I can take them away and throw them in the negatives. For your response and your attitude, your meter is no longer in the green."

"I do have flaws, and I acknowledge them," Jinseok stated, raising an eyebrow. "Greediness is probably one of them, unfortunately." The man didn't feel the need to conceal his flaws any more than he would hide his virtues. "Was I in the green? I thought I was far from there," he asked. He gave her a cheeky smile and continued, "How far from it I am now?"

@dencesin

[moonchildmuses]

♠ - for all our boys damn

today, on literally all my boys are whipped!!! here’s the second part of this interview and the conclusion is: they’re so fucking whipped it’s gonna make me cry

send ♠ and my muse will tell you something they dislike about your muse.

gyo

“What’s not to dislike?” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair and blowing a kiss for his man, who is standing not too far from where he’s seated. “I’m obviously just kidding, he’s not that bad. But I can’t deny he’s a stubborn fuck. And, fuck, he’s so fuckin’ arrogant. Like, chill. It’s not good for my health!” He shakes his head and sighs, looking a bit frustrated. We ask him why, thinking it’s something serious, but then he smirks. “Listen, I can’t give him shit for it, I’m worse than him. The thing that bothers me about it is the fact that it makes me want to have sex with him all the fucking time, and my body can’t take it.” A few people start wheezing behind the scenes, and he sends them a dirty look. “Sorry about those two. One of them is a virgin who can’t drive, and the other… well, he’s a virgin too, but he can drive because Asuka taught him when he was 12. The rest are nothing but jealous idiots.”

dae

“I’m def not trying to start something, but… listen, the fact that he hasn’t called me baby in weeks…” He says, biting his lower lip to hold back a smile. “Makes my heart hurt, you know? Like, what’s the point of being the Baby Thot if my own boyfriend refuses to baby me?” He sighs dramatically and nods in appreciation when his friends start cooing at him – until it turns into straight up clowning. “No, you’re supposed to be on my side! What kind of–? Fine, you know what? Go choke on a dick. All of you!” Rolling his eyes, he asks if we can kick them out, but the answer is no. “But– They wanna steal my thunder, this isn’t fair! I’m afraid I’m gonna have to call my manager.” Someone (Youngho) yells ‘aww, are you gonna call your mommy?’ and Dae sighs dramatically. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

minseok

“He never lets me be the big spoon!” He shouts, pointing an accusing finger at his boyfriend. “Miss me with that ‘but you’re so tiny’ bullshit, asshole. You’re only 3 centimetres taller than me. Three. That’s not fucking fair, Baekhan’s thot ass is a whole centimetre shorter than me and I don’t see y’all treating him like that so– Daewon, sit your ass down, okay? This isn’t about you and your short dick, so shut the fuck up.” He quickly shuts down Dae’s argument with a middle finger up in the air and then continues. “Anyway. Jung Jinyoung, promise me you’ll let me be the big spoon whenever I want to or else I’m gonna have to remove your soulmate benefits for our monthly squad activity. Paintball’s the next one, and you know I’m known to be quite ruthless when we’re out there, so if I were you I’d watch my back, kiddo.” 

maze

“I mean, he can be quite a handful sometimes, and I admit dealing with him has never been an easy task – especially when his good nature turns into naivety and there’s no way to make him see that some people don’t deserve our gratitude. We don’t owe anyone anything.” He points out, and it’s obvious he’s trying not to lose his temper but he manages. “But I’m not gonna lie, as annoying as it is, I can’t think of something I don’t like about him. Not because I’m a whipped dumbass that can’t see his bad side, but more like ‘cause that’s what makes him him. You won’t see me being a little bitch about it, if that’s what you’re trying to achieve with this question.” He shrugs his shoulders and smiles a little, obviously looking at Prince Cyra. The king of hell, y’all. “We both have our flaws, of course. What I’m trying to say is that we’re way too far from being perfect, but I wouldn’t change a thing. Does that answer your question?”

hyuk

“Ugh, Yejun… How do I even begin to explain Xiao Yejun? He’s literally the biggest brat I’ve ever met.” He looks away and chuckles, taking a few seconds to think before he continues. “He does this thing where he just… he acts like a fuckin’ child all the time. I thought it was funny when I first met him, but then I went and became friends with his dramatic ass and let me tell you: it’s not funny at all. Especially when he does dumb shit like yell at me for the stupidest reasons ever. Sometimes I look at him and I’m like… dude… he’s out of control.” He sighs and smiles to himself, pausing for a second. “But I’m still here, huh?”

jitae

“He used to have this terrible habit of letting me steal the blankets at night, back when we were teenagers. I remember waking up every weekend to him curled up next to me, and he was always freezing. It made me feel like shit!” He claims, crossing his arms as he shakes his head. “The worst part is that I still don’t know if he ever even noticed, but it was terrible. I loved wrapping him up with the blankets, though. Kinda like a burrito, you know? Yeah, it was funny.” He smiles and looks away, probably reminiscing about it. “I’m sure our moms took enough pictures of little burrito Miya. It was really cute.”

[darlinghongin]

180608 - Jinseok instagram update *no caption*

[exmposiris]

[ fractures ]

@eunbixmp continued from here:

Eunbi looked up from her coffee, expression unreadable as she examined him. “What’s there to talk about?” She finally asked, her voice betraying just how exhausted she felt. She heaved a sigh that sent a sharp pain through her ribs, leaning back in her chair. “Are you going to lecture me? I panicked. If I had been thinking clearly, I wouldn’t have gotten Jinseok involved,” she explained slowly. She was running on absolutely no sleep, even less than usual, so she was hardly in the mood for some protective grandad bullshit.

She felt another stab go through her chest, but this time it was different. Jealousy. She had nearly died, had been attacked -nearly brutalized and killed in her own home- but there was no one to care about that. After all, she had called Jinseok because he was literally all she had. It didn’t seem fair, even though she was well aware that nothing was ever fair.

“Are you okay, Eunbi? You must have been through a lot,” she said, lowering her voice as if that made her sound any more like Osiris. “Oh, yeah, I’m great, thanks for asking. Gotta get my fucking floor professionally cleaned before I can even think of stepping foot in my apartment again, but I’m fan-fucking-tastic.”

it is more than a little obvious that the concern he meant to express with his question about what had happened the night before has gone right over eunbi’s head, especially when she asks him if he’s about to give her a lecture. he raises his eyebrows lightly at her clearly defensive words, talking like he minds that she called jinseok rather than that he thinks she should have called a lot sooner. or called  him. or called all of them. he’d bring the entire egyptian squad to save his unofficial granddaughter for sure.

before he can comment on that once his surprise lessened a bit, she already speaks up again, seemingly indicating she’s speaking in his stead, and though he’s still a little flabbergasted with how little she thinks he cares about her wellbeing, he can’t help but breathe out a little smile at her words. leaning in, he puts a hand on hers, fingers curling around it without a care in the world for what she might not be comfortable with, not at this very moment.

“sweet child,” he says warmly, though the amusement still dances in his eyes as well. he’s not in the slightest amused by what happened to her, but rather by the fact that she feels slighted when he was trying to see if she felt up for having him be concerned for her or if she preferred to just toughen it out and not be coddled. “that is exactly what i meant. do you need help? you know i’m here for you, right? i’ve seen your ghosts, you’ve threatened to kill me twice; we’re family now. let me call airmid for you, she’s a healing goddess, you shouldn’t have to suffer these injuries. i’ll also get someone to clean your apartment. do you have a key for me or is it a digital lock with a code?”

[hclywater]

                “    ya !!    ”        obnoxious  yelp  sounds  through  empty  shop,    just  moments  before  closing,        “    where  are  you ?      ajumma  from  the  dumpling  shop  said  i  could  have  the  leftovers  if  we’re  there    right    at  10.    this  is  a  test  of  my  loyalties,    i  know  it        —————        and  if  you  make  me  lose  this  chance  of    free    kimchi  mandus,    i’ll  actually  fight  you  in  the  street.    ”        jinseok  turns  on  the  heels  of  worn  sneakers  to  take  one  last  peek  around  the  studio  ;    satisfied  he’s    alone,    he  collapses  into  the  closest  chair,    head  laying back  as  heavy  lids  fall  shut  over  tired,   weary  eyes.      unwilling  to  bother  yvette  about  another    row    with  hanbin,    he  opts  for  heavy  sigh  to  release  a  shard  of  stress  atop  slumped  shoulders        —        perhaps  already  bending  beneath  the  weight  of  what  the  world  has  doled  out.

it  wouldn’t  be  long  before  he  hears  the  rustle  of  other  coming  from  the  back,    stirring  him  from  momentary  rest.    intent  on  greeting  her  with  a    fabricated    warmth  instead  of  the  cool,   darkness  that  clung  to  him  today,    he  sits  up  with  a  ruffle  of  fire - red  locks  and  lopsided  grin,        “    tell  me  you’re  ready  to  go.    i’m    starving    and  i  still  have  homework  to  do.    i  know,    that’s  shitty,   fuck  school,    blah,   blah.    but  yeah  -    dumplings,    dude.    ”

L̵̡̦͙̣̪͍͈͓͔̽̀̋͗̈́̊̚͝Ő̷̱̭̯̘̯̺̹̥͔͑̍̑̓̀A̴͖̤͔͆̑́͑͆͂̐̆͝͝D̴̫̗̥̱̂̀̈́̃̆͂Ī̶̧̩̭̥̝̈́̾͑͝N̸̛̠̩̰̾̔͑̆́́̚G̵̛̛͕̈́͗̏́͌̀͠ ̸̙̹̬̜̞̗͎̀ ̵̛̲͕̕̕ ̴̢̻̜̃̆̾͗̌̕͝I̸̫͇͓̱͚͋͑͋͠N̵̨͎͍̳̩͎͎̣̏T̸͇͙̹̺̳͍͖̞̀̄̓͊̚Ë̶̛̞͓͙́̅̿̑̄̌͂̈́͠Ŗ̵̻͕̺̪͉̜͈̱̅̓̐̾̒̇F̸̛̛̯̻̘͕͉̏̀̈̕̚A̵̠̺̦̳͔̲̯̭̔͐̒͆̏̋̑͝ͅC̸̬̫̲͉̻̐̎̃̐̽̊Ẽ̸̢̺͈̫̈́̈́̾̓̈̄͒͌:̶̖͍͖̙̘̝̖̙̀̓        CONNECTING  . . .        𝚓𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚘𝚔                to  @luvnetwork​​​

[rktaeyong]

so don’t wait!

            ━━━━━━━━━━ performance _ 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

all taeyong can really think about is that the same thing that he had not wanted to happen before, happened again. it’s hard, tough to deal with another person leaving — at this point, taeyong’s already done all the feeling. he’s learned to work with it, discuss it as little as possible, and move on — just for his own sake, because he knows if he dwells more on, if he allows his brain to think something like that, he’ll be rendered useless, to both himself and the team. that’s the last thing he wants to do, especially not before their comeback, so taeyong does what he thinks is the mature thing to do.

he just really hopes zhenting is okay — that’s all he really hopes for.

the way he’s dealing with this is not healthy in the least, he acknowledges at least that. but it’s the way his brain works, it’s the way he wants to cope. maybe he’ll talk to woohyun about it later — he’ll feel bad for bringing this all up, but it’ll be a step in the right direction. that’s for another day, though — not yet, not right now. he should focus right now.

so taeyong spends a few hours by himself, locked away in some corner of the sphere building, airpods in, listening to call me baby on repeat — it works in getting him back in the groove, as lonely as it seems.

this song is, no doubt, taeyong’s favorite unit black song, so it doesn’t take too long for taeyong to get into the performance — and if anyone asks, his favorite member is jinseok. it’s always the rappers with him.

he’s had some experience with performing this song, actually. he remembers the storm that arose when this song was released — taeyong very vividly remembers watching the music video with his jaw wide open. he started learning the choreography the very next day, which in the cover dance world, is already three steps behind. to do this, officially, as an idol rather than just a cover artist, is amazing — it truly feels like he’s come full circle, and for a second he reminisces about simpler times, times he wishes he could relive for the thrill of it all just for one fleeting moment.

they’ve spent days perfecting the choreography, out of what taeyong believes is respect. if unit black ever came in through their practice room doors, taeyong didn’t want them to think that this younger boy group totally wrecked their song. he doesn’t think they’ll ever be better than them, not in the slightest. he doesn’t think that’s even possible — this is unit black we’re talking about.

taeyong struggles a little with living up to the amazing vocals of unit black’s main vocalists — he doesn’t know how jiahn can sing so high, it almost takes his breath away just thinking about it. he tries his best, though — if he were to do this around the same time he first covered this song, he wouldn’t have reached even jiahn’s lowest note in the song, so this is a major improvement and great tribute in his eyes.

the performance is the most fun he’s ever had on the stage in a long time, despite everything that is going on. there might be an empty spot on stage that fans will immediately notice, but this song is making him forget all that, making him enjoy in the moment rather than worry for their future. finger hearts fly on stage, and taeyong makes sure he targets both the fans and his fellow members — anything for a smile at this point. 

he stands on stage, chest heaving from the most difficult choreography ( other their own ) he’s ever had to dance while singing, thinking to himself — he’ll have thoughts later, many thoughts, but his only one right now is that he’s so proud of himself, all of them.

that’s all he can really think right now, and maybe it’s for the best.

[colorfulbts]

This package contains:

{ 7 locks } iPhone 6 → original edits (above)* + 1 Namjoon lockscreen

*Samples not included // Do not repost nor re-edit © Please like or reblog if using! Give credits. Thank you~

[iconsboys24-blog]

jinseok lockscreen

like if u save

[avryujin-blog]

solo. | alternate selves doesn’t mean being the same person.

The news of a new world that gone down to shit reached his ears and he could frankly give less of a damn. It wasn’t like this was his world. And even if others were dying and the world was going down to shit, Ryujin was a person that had gone through so much that all this just seemed like another day. Yeah, sure, maybe he’s going to lose someone he cared for in this mess but would that even be the first? But another self? Another him? He’d seen glimpses from Death, who wanted to show him how ‘special’ he was. So many versions, all living more normal lives than he did. Which meant that whoever he saw wasn’t really him, not really, because that man did not suffer the things he did. No, he had an easier life. He probably still had people with him. Maybe. Whatever. He then spot a man in his thirties, locks longer than his own and tied into a low ponytail. Deep eye bags, scars riddling him, decked in a suit ready to go to war. The sniper rifle case by his back, the guns and knives holstered to his side. But when they locked gazes the differences were much more stark. A blazing determination, the straight and vigilant way he held himself, and the lips thinned to a line—a contrast to his own calm blues, lazy slouch, and a lopsided grin holding a cigarette in between teeth.

“‘Ello there, nice to see I do age fine. But that’s to be expected ‘cuz, I’m hot—duh.” He began, a light chuckle out of his lips as he looked at the other, an air of nonchalance enveloping him as per usual. By the corner of his eyes he could see some more startled people, probably NPCs of the 616 land. Maybe they were shooketh because he could already tell this other him was a total hard ass.

Heck, other him was looking at him with wide eyes. But he seemed to snap out of it, but before he could say anything, Ryujin raised a hand and took his moonshine out to take a gulp, before putting it back with a refreshing sigh “Oops, sorry there, you were taking your sweet ass time and the moonshine was calling for me.” “You—.” 616 him choked out, and Ryujin merely charmingly smiled. “Are you really the other me? How could you be so...” “Hot? Amazing? Completely wonderful to be around with?” He butts in, walking up to the stranger who shared a similar face, smirking up to the other he gave out a puff of smoke right at his face which cause the other man to cough and step back, glaring at Ryujin. “Listen kiddo, we may be alternate versions but we’re not each other. So, I’m Ryujin, Kazuki Ryujin. Just in case you have a different name ‘cuz I was adopted thanks.” The other him sputtered a bit, before pointing out “I’m older than you! You look like you’re in your twenties and I’m in my thirties. And you were—” The man paused, a conflicted expression in his face before he continued with a heavy sigh. “I’m Jinseok, Shin Jinseok.” “Ooh~ we share the Jin syllable!” He chirped, rocking on his heels instead of adopting the stiff position that Jinseok held. “And cute, you weren’t adopted! And even more adorable, you think you’re older! Honey, I look like I’m in my twenties but your 6700 years too young to tell me that you’re older than me, ‘kay sweetie?” Jinseok gaped, and Ryujin merely laughed. The scarred man stumbled a bit, weakly mentioning “But I have enhanced marksmanship so how did you...?” Ryujin rolled his eyes, taking another drag from his cigarette but being more polite as he puffed out the toxic smoke away from the other’s face. Looking down at the shadows, he knew that even if he was in this new world, she’s watching. Grinning bitterly down at the darkness under his feet, he looked back with a shrug “Immortality’s a bitch. And didn’t I tell you already? We may be another version of each other but I’m one of a kind.” “You’re...immortal...?” Another conflicted expression, before it steeled into that of steeliness and realization “Can’t you do something more then? You don’t have to fear death and you can go help others out but all you’ve been doing is standing about doing...nothing!” “Yeah, so?” Was Ryujin’s bland response, not caring how offended the other looked. “Dude, I joined this dumb academy for the free bed. I’ll help when I want to help. And I don’t fear Death, I despise Death.”  The easy-going demeanor momentarily changed to one of venom, one that even caused Jinseok to flinch. And Ryujin lets loos a bark of hollow laughter, taking the other’s face by the chin with his hand. He wondered if he’s been hanging out with Death too much, or maybe that seeing a face like his own just caused his self-loathing to fester and be vindictive “But you’re afraid of Death aren’t you? And you must have such a good heart wanting to save everyone. But that’s ‘cuz they’re your people and you care for them all huh? Now, let me just repeat this: I’m not you. I went through my own shit. This whole bullshit you’re dealing with? Not my problem. The kids that are suffering now? Hm, maybe I care enough for some but you know what they aren’t? People from my time. My world’s been long gone already, had been for four years. And now I just want my time to chill and not give a fuck.” His hold tightened, he didn’t care if he made an audience. Ryujin would help people when he wanted to which was more often than not what goes on, but he also just could care for so much less. Because Ryujin’s tired. He’s exhausted, had been since he was 14. And now this asshole thinks he can walk up to him and tell him what to do? Just because they were another version of each other didn’t make them the same. This kid didn’t have to deal with Death after all. “You’re lucky you can die, I’m jealous of that.” He sighed in the end, letting go of Jinseok who drew back, disbelieving, wide eyes looking at him. He must be horrified to know that there was a him that existed which went so much against his morals. But Ryujin didn’t really care what Jinseok thinks. He took out his cigarette, killing it under his feet. “You’re still so young and foolish, but when you lose everything you’ll realize the end was the best peace one could ever gain.” He smiled at the other, at ease once again. With a wave, he left the stunned Jinseok without a care. In the end, Ryujin will always be aware that no matter what would happen—he’d remain standing alone. Truly, Jinseok was a lucky fool.

I could make this longer, I could make a version from Jinseok’s pov, but ajsndad so much to write OTL. Anyways some plots if interested:

interactions with jinseok. but also wtf he’s so different from ryujin? like an actual decently lucky guy, super serious, very determined to be a good hero and has enhanced marksmanship instead of immortality. overall, completely different down to the name and life they had.

you saw this shit go down and decide to talk to ryujin. maybe it’s just the whole not my problem spiel that got to you. or maybe it’s like dude that was the other you? tf.

maybe some gun/sniper training from jinseok.

idk but like so i can get to ur ims and we can discuss more???

[rkbyunbaek]

( who is the liar? ) ;

@rkobon

swallowing hard, baekhyun continues to stare at the closed door in front of him. unable to knock, unable to push himself to actually enter the room ahead even after standing here for almost ten minutes because he’s scared. he’s afraid of what will happen once he enters, that he won’t be able to fix whatever’s been going on between him and jinseok since their fight;

but baekhyun wants to so bad. he wants to fix it, for the other to finally stop avoiding him.

even when he’s still thinking about backing out, the thought not leaving him alone. so close to just turning around and getting away and hurrying back into the safety of his own hotel room to wallow like the coward he is -- the reason they got into this mess in the first place, baekhyun being a fucking coward. a text message stops him, though, the vibration of his phone in his hand pulling him back. it’s seonho telling him that he’s getting back soon so they can have dinner together and it’s the push baekhyun needs. it’s the push he needs to step forward and open the door without knocking, without allowing himself any hesitation because, otherwise, baekhyun won’t get this opportunity again.

he gets inside and closes the door behind him immediately, pressing himself against the wood to make sure jinseok can’t get away as well. so, he can’t leave after a simple greeting like the last time baekhyun got in here. he looks for him, eyes searching through the room briefly before they lock onto the other boy. “we need to talk,” baekhyun says, voice more shaky than he’d like it to be, “you’ve been avoiding me.”

[seoulxsinners]

Taehyun

age: 285

species:  Half-demon

Father: Jinseok

Like for  a starter bio under readmore

trigger warnings

sexual abuse (taehyun was a minor),  physical abuse, mental abuse, murder,  Gynophobia (keep in mind he doesn’t hate them he has a phobia of them)

“A curse on humanity”  That was what Taehyun was told its first memory of his mother.  He grew up with just her and his aunt.  Both women the only other people he came in contact with.  Growing up he knew he wasn’t wanted but his “Christian” mother would not kill her own child.  However,  she also would not love him.

Taehyun's childhood was far from happy.   His mother wanted to purge the evil from him.  Any infraction was met with anger and hatred.  He was never given any toy or allowed to be a child.   His most vivid memory of his mother is from a time he was occupying his own time playing.  A vase was broken when he fell into a table from running.  She broke his arm that time.    Eventually, she beat any personality he had right out of him.  Taehyun was silent and obedient by the age of 7.  

This Made him a perfect Target for his aunt.  As he aged like his father he was an attractive male.   His aunt a woman who felt the boy owed her for her lost life.   For her to have been stuck raising the boy with her sister.  Who was weak for a moment.   The visits were frequent, And often left Taehyun scared.  He would much rather have his mother over his aunt.  A beating he could take, He had learned to bear those.  But what his aunt brought was something he couldn't handle.  

One night when he was 16 his mother caught his aunt on top of him.  He was blamed for the infraction.  He was taken to a small room and locked away in it.  He might have gone mad had it not been for his one window to the world.   He would make stories for the people passing by.  This was when he first saw his father thought he didn't know it was him.  

Jinseok had been walking down the street when he caught the first glimpse of Taehyun.   They watched each other for a while Taehyun making a story for the man watching him.   His mother entered the room to bring him food when she saw him watching out the window.   She saw the man she blamed for her curse.  The man who had seduced her.   Taehyun hand earned a scar on his back from this day.

He was 17 when Jinseok came for his son.  The demon had put the pieces together.  At first, he was told to leave there was nothing in this house for him.   He insisted and eventually was allowed to meet his son.  When Taehyun met Jinseok, he was scared he was afraid of what he might have done.   This was the man who had seen him in the window the other day.

Though born from the sin of Pride, Jinseok let wrath take him that night.   He was more angry with himself than with Taehyun's mother.  But she got her judgment from the demon.   And, Both women also received their execution.   He looked at his son,  who stood, watching the blood run from his mother's neck.  Taehyun was crying she was all he knew.

Most nights Taehyun spent sleeping in the attic of Jinseok's house, after going with his father.  Within the first month, Jinseok became aware of the phobia Taehyun now had.   When the maid would come into his room to wake him hed shake.   When she would walk by him he would freeze.   The only people Taehyun would let near him was Joonha and Michael.  

Michael like Taehyun was still adjusting to a life where his life was his own.  The pair became inseparable often found sleeping in the attic together.   At first, Joonha and Jin thought there was a romantic bond forming between the two.   However, it became apparent it was one they forged as they healed.

It was on Taehyuns 28th birthday that he spoke.  He had told Jinseok it was his birthday.   He had wanted to know what it would be like to celebrate it.   That night Jinseok put together the fasted and biggest party he had ever thrown.   Taehyun didn't talk much during or after.  But slowly he found his voice again.

Thought he had a childhood that left scars many healed.  Some may never heal.  But Taehyun now forges his own path still living with his father.   He works for Michael finding him rare books.    And brokering deals with his father.

[moonchildmuses]

♤ - for all our boys.

today, on literally all my boys are whipped!!! we interviewed the kiddos and it was messy as hell, but we made it out alive!!!

send ♤ and my muse will tell you something they like about your muse.

gyo

“Well, let’s see. For starters, he’s like, good at everything. Stupid fucker, I hate him.” He scoffs and crosses his arms with a frown. “I’m not jealous at all because I’m just as good as him, we can agree on this one, but it’s just so… annoying. And to make it worse he looks so hot while doing it. Fuck you. Are you listening, idiot? Fuck. You.” [We point out the fact that he’s going off on a tangent and he rolls his eyes before continuing] “Okay, fine. I like that no matter how much we annoy each other, we still have each other’s backs, no questions asked. Unless we’re feeling bitchy, of course.” He smirks and winks, probably at Asuka. “That’s another thing I like about him. This motherfucker isn’t scared to fight back, and I’m sure he’d rather die than let me have the last word. I love that shit.”

dae

“Can it be more than one thing, though? Because I can’t choose just one thing.” He complains, pouting and gesturing for his boyfriend to move closer to him. “Have you met my boyfriend? It’s like, impossible to pick just one thing, he’s amazing.” His face breaks into a smile, and he winks at Ji. “I love his boxy smile, his sense of humour, his pure heart, the way he looks at me, his hands around my ne–” All of a sudden, a pillow hits him square in the face and he screeches while the rest of his friends laugh at him. “FUCK YOU, BAEKHAN! Just wait till we’re done here, he’s gonna regret that.” He mumbles, shaking his head. “Anyway, my boyfriend is perfect and I’m whipped, we been knew! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go strangle that gremlin.”

minseok

“Sorry about my friends, they’re fucking idiots.” He sighs, watching Dae chasing Baek around the room, both of them insulting each other. “So, something I like about Jinyoung? Well, to be honest there are so many things I like about him, but I have to admit that I love our connection. Don’t get me wrong,” He turns to look at the thot patrol, all of them already complaining. “I love all of you the same, but y’all can’t deny we’ve always had a different kind of connection. We’re like… soulmates.” He shrugs and doesn’t even get to breathe before Dae, Ji and Baek (#JinseokNation) are yelling ‘oh my god, they were soulmates!’ in unison, which makes him start laughing. “Yeah, exactly. We’re soulmates and I love that.”

maze

“That’s easy,” he smiles, looking confident. “I like his strength. The way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not looking, but also the way he looks at me when I am looking at him. I admire his relentlessness and how he learned to see right through me when we needed it the most.” He’s still smiling, yet it’s somehow softer. Almost like he’s madly in love – and he is. “I like that he knows the real me, every part of it, and he’s still by my side. I just wish he’d agree to be my King, though. But I understand why he said no, and to be honest that’s what made me realise that even if it’s not ‘official’... he’s still gonna be my King.”

hyuk

“First of all, I’d like to make it clear that I am not a gold digger… but I won’t even deny that I like that he’s rich because he always lets me drive his cars and I look expensive as fuck driving those, so that’s a plus.” He says and then starts talking about other random perks before he stops himself, realising he’s gone off on a tangent. “Enough about that, sorry. You’re gonna think I’m his sugar baby or something like that, and that’s so not the case. I think.” A short fit of laughter later, he sobers up. “I like that he’s never afraid to be himself when we’re together. Also he’s not afraid of calling me out on my bullshit and I appreciate that. Sometimes.”

jitae

“Miya… well, he’s been my favourite person in the entire world since the day he was born, so I’m definitely a little biased here, sorry.” He admits, smiling to himself. “We grew up together and we’ve been best friends for longer than we can even remember, so believe me when I say I know pretty much everything about him. That’s why I can say that he’s still the same adorable boy I have always adored. I guess that’s what I like the most about him.” He gives a little shrug and looks down, his smile becoming a little melancholic. “He’s so genuine, really. I’m proud of him.”

[aspcrity]

‘ i’m telling you , this place is haunted ‘ (jinseok)

↻ ⋆ take me to the ocean ⟪ 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒  ⟫ | status: not accepting

“it’s not, seok-ah.” jinhoon’s voice is soft despite the fact that there’s a playful grin on his face. haeseok is sticking to his side like glue, cold fingers digging into his biceps. “if it was, tae and i would’ve long died or disappeared. there has been instances where we’ve trained here until the sun rose.” he chuckles softly and fits the volleyball between his torso and arm - somehow still managing to ruffle through haeseok’s hair. it’s haeseok who appeared at the gym hall in the middle of the night when he called jinhoon all whiny and pouty about not being able to sleep. jinhoon couldn’t either, so he had already been up and about squeezing in some solo practice (there was a reason why him and taehoon, among a few other hardcore players owned keys to the hall). naturally haeseok decided to keep jinhoon company if neither of them could sleep - though jinhoon was aware then and now that haeseok does have ulterior motives with this. it is very haunted, hyung. which is why we should leave. haeseok has a particular way to get jinhoon to stop overworking himself. he never says it straightforwardly because he knows jinhoon blocks those attempts and gets irritated, but he always masks it within something else, no matter how weak the argument might seem. jinhoon can obviously see through it, but he chooses not to comment it. it’s endearing to see haeseok try and coax him out of the gym or away from his desk and jinhoon cannot help but feel a bit bad for maybe neglecting haeseok and depriving him of the attention he deserves. so it’s almost easy for jinhoon to chuckle and agree, make haeseok help him collect the stray volleyballs and put them away before locking up and heading to jinhoon’s home together. haeseok is hard to deny even when he’s trying to shush his own giggling into jinhoon’s chest and cuddle him like there’s no tomorrow. even when jinhoon tries to get him to sleep for an hour before giving up and just indulging in whatever haeseok has in mind.

[coruscorp-blog]

DEAR, MR/MS. ( KIYOON YOO )

We are pleased to have you back for another year as a CHARMS PROFESSOR at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We sincerely hope your students and fellow staff members treat you well.

content warning: mental illness

kiyoon’s life mostly consists of moving from one place to another.

in 1993. he was born during a snowy friday night in edinburgh, scotland. the second child and youngest son of yoo jinseok and chae yeonhee, whom three years prior had given birth to a yoo jinwoo.  while still in the comforts of their hometown, daegu of south korea. doctors tell them that he’s a healthy baby boy, although they might still need to protect him from the cold outside. papa decided to give him the name ‘kiel’, just to make sure kiyoon wouldn’t have difficulties blending in with the other kids later.

fast-forward 2x: childhood is plain–dull. but kiyoon wouldn’t trade it for the world. papa is an architect, working while finishing his masters studies. so they never had to worry about missing the roof on top of their heads or the clothes on their backs. mama is… who knows. she never tells him what she is; only showing what she can do, like getting rid of the booboos on his knees or elbows when he fell down in a blink of an eye.

everything was well in yoo household.

he believed this is how things is going to be; a cycle of habit and repetition until his heart is too weak to beat once more. until the nightmares started coming.

or is it night terrors instead? nightmares don’t actually come true, do they?

the biggest irony, though, is that everything started when a life ended.

papa thinks he’s sick in the head. older brother thinks he’s a morbid freak. mama is too busy rotting in her coffin to care, dawn-colored discoloration adorning her pale skin beneath broken ribs and damaged internal organs–a complete contrast to the white dress and lilies held by nimble fingers.

kiyoon thinks he should be sad–or scared at least, but why would he be when his dreams have shown him worse things?

from that point on things has never been the same. papa never looks at him for more than two seconds anymore, neither does older brother. he’s left alone to his own thoughts–delusions, or what his father would say. no one can predict death, shouldn’t, because it’s god’s work and not humans. yet his youngest son just had to prove him wrong.

too bad mental hospitals are still a thing back then.

to this day kiyoon doesn’t understand the reason behind it. why he was locked inside a dark room with no window when he was telling the truth. electrocuted and drowned when all he ask was to go home. ostracized just because he sees the world different from others.

but like with any other story, the torture doesn’t last forever. in order to make someone suffer under the ruthlessness of the night, they must experience how the sun feels on their skin too.

and it comes in the form of an odd woman–her features lost in soil-colored hues, yet the red lipstick burns in the back of his mind as clear as the daylight. she picked him up like how a grandmother would to their grandson at school, warm hand enveloping tiny one as they walk towards the outside world.

that’s when he found out about his story. the reason behind his inner eye. about the family that mama left behind in order to be with papa. and how he is the one to continue the magical bloodline in their family.

hogwarts is almost like a fresh breeze. feeling accepted for who you are for once feels liberating. finding a new family isn’t so hard, especially since no one is punishing you for simply existing. kiyoon attended all of his classes, receives at most two ‘acceptable’s and more EEs or Os at the end of the year, and barely gets into any trouble. teachers favor him, students never bothered to poke fun at him.

perhaps that’s why his goal to become an auror turns into reality as he reached twenty-one.

but like any other things in his life, his job never lasted long. he’s not even twenty-five yet when he witnessed his partner violently killed in front of his eyes. the traumatic event left him rather shaken and deemed unfit for field work. survivor’s guilt eating him up from the inside.

the minister gave him a second chance by teaching charms at hogwarts, not wanting one of the strongest duelists within the auror’s office to walk away easily. it was their choice and his order from the start.

perhaps, they do have a point. there’s a saying that if you’re tired of the world, home should be your first destination to go to.

[rkhongjoong]

✱ ━ SPARKS FLY.

sometimes, it’s nice being caught out in a summer storm.

there’s no rain - not yet, but it’s brewing.  he can feel it on his skin, how heavy it sits there and cloaks him like an extra shirt.  jinseok doesn’t mind the occasional summer storm, because along with them comes the crash of thunder, the bolt of lightning.  the sky grows dark, and the storm is pregnant now; an encroaching doom that moves toward him and still, he takes his steady strides.  the skies will open up and weep at any moment.

and that’s when the realization sets in: the kittens are locked outside, cowering in his alley without any cover to speak of.  lightning leaves the sky bright, followed by a boom and jinseok starts to run - he forgets that he always looks up at the sky.  his mind, this time, is on kittens and their frightened mewls and how they’re without a safe place to stay.

he is the lightning that crashes into someone else, just as the rain starts to pour.  he hisses through his teeth as he falls and skins his knees - no stranger to this kind of pain, as a dancer, but he hurriedly rushes to pull the stranger up.  “ hey - hey man, are you okay?”

@rkmg  :   “  LIGHTNING  ”

[jumunkrp-blog]

RESIDENCY DIRECTORY UPDATING...

LOADING RESIDENT INFORMATION:  ❝ — [ YOO JINSEOK ], also known as [ WANG-JA ] is currently 22 YEARS OLD, a YOO and PUREBLOOD, and currently is a CONSULTANT TO THE YOO BUSINESS GROUP. Please click here for more information on this resident.

ACCESSING DATA...

—  LOADED PERSONALITY:

his eyes are always rimmed with dark circles.

it’s thesis season, he says, but the way his hands are covered with the scars of tell-tale wand rebellion (gumiho cores are incredibly stubborn) would suggest otherwise. this is why his hands are always kept in his pockets, one set of his lean and long fingers fiddling with a golden galleon he once took home from his family’s short trip to London. fiddling, because he is struggling hard to focus on the conversation, an impossibility as his brain wanders instead to his slowly delaying schedule, the looming threat of unbalanced balance sheets and mismatched inventory lists gaining volume in his conscious.

yoo jinseok. open a lifestyle magazine on a page discussing siblings in power and his name will be plastered in bold. he’ll give a bashful smile if asked about it, but only to hide the heavy bitterness that seeps from never getting what he thinks is rightfully his. on good days, he’d probably slip in a half-hearted comment about how his brother, his dear eldest brother, inspires him to achieve more in his life, but the glint in his eyes motions that admiration is not the cause of this drive. he does the same when the days are bad—the glimmer in his hues just turn a bit more sinister.

he’s been described as many things by many words that almost always fail to encapsulate the whole of his manners. he’s been tagged as an heir, an elite, a socialite, a genius—a rising star of his own generation with the privilege, the power, the looks, and the smarts needed to conquer. to public eyes and the press’ lenses, he is calm and collected—the closest thing a person (ha!) could ever get to achieving the dictionary definition of perfect.

but he isn’t. far from it. he’s aware but he’ll deny it to his grave. hubris.

the pages do not write how hot-headed or abrasive  he can be. only a few can bear witness to his obsessive need for more and more power, and even fewer can read his strikingly utilitarian way of dealing with people. for him, there are only business associates and family members. it takes one hand to count the number of people he genuinely cares for and his most genuine smile can only be seen in the presence of magical creatures.

yoo jinseok. the press calls him the perfect millennial heir, almost unlikely for his generation. mothers all wish their sons would grow up to be like him. his best friend, however, thinks he’s nothing but an asshole with a heart.

—  LOADED BACKGROUND:

i.

he is born in the middle of a solar eclipse.

his mother screams and writhes in the posh delivery room, and the moon occults the sun the moment he exits the womb. his father thinks this is a good omen, a sign of a near future where his youngest son will conquer. his brother, then twelve years old, waits outside the delivery room, his expression unreadable at the news of a baby brother. it is unease, perhaps, that clouds his usually bright hues, but it could also just be the gloom from the missing sun.

they name him jinseok—a precious stone to be set in the crown of family glory.

he is barely hours old when the heavy burden of being an elite is passed onto his conscious. “he will show us great things,” his father murmurs, out of ear shot from his eldest son poring over ancient books. his gaze is steely, yet brimming with immense expectation. his mother’s lips form a solemn line as he is cradled upon her bosom—it is unclear if she approves of her husband’s sinister tone. “he is a boy born to vanquish.”

ii.

a fallen cherry stem grows into full bloom the moment he takes it into his little hands. he is two and he is overflowing with magic, and everything he touches springs into life. they call him a genius—a pureblooded wizard with abilities too advanced, too powerful for his age. his father notes this with much approval, and jinseok grins whenever the man gives his hair an affectionate pat and endearing ruffle after he sings of his achievements.

he is young and his heart is yet to be hardened.

the little boy longs for nothing more than to make his family proud.  

he is four when he finds a dancing partner with the water, the rippling tides and the congealed droplets swirling around his tiny form as his little feet splish and splash on the shallow end of the pond. he is six when the lights from their banquet’s overhead chandelier goes out once he sneezes, only to return to its majestic illumination when he bursts into an airy giggle. he is nine when he befriends a wild phoenix, injured from a hasty trip from the markets, and he finds solace in the downy softness of her glorious feathers when she allows him to nap with her on the field.

his father never fails to remind him of the omen that heralds his birth, and the boy grows confident to where his fate is placed. like the moon that covered the sun as he came wailing into the open, the man expects the darling boy to overtake a looming empire that has been in power for too long. jinseok nods, taking in every praise, every syllable.

he has yet to know of the murk that swims beneath all the glitter.

iii.

he is twelve and he is tall for his age, all long limbs and modelesque proportions that have earned him the cover of many teens’ magazines for the young and the rich and the famous. his brown locks match the deep pools of his sleepy hues, his eyes bordered with lashes so long it could make any girl jealous. he is twelve and his magic still overflows, but it is far more controlled upon receipt of his wand during his last birthday. his hands are covered with scars he has charmed into disappearing (ah, the gumiho, ever stubborn), but he hides the pair in the pockets of his oversized cardigan, as he stands, ever-attentive, in front of the family’s stern patriarch.

“honor is to be earned,” his father tells him. the room is dark save for the grandiose chandelier that hangs overhead, the same one that he once  made glow with a simple giggle. but that was ages ago, and simple tricks do not anymore entertain the man. “our family has worked and toiled for century upon century just to get us to where we stand.”

jinseok nods without question. he knows that this is the truth he has been born to.

the elder continues on with his litany, prattling about duty and the moral pillars the yoo family is built upon. hard work trumps all. privilege falls second to true talent. determination is the true essence of success. anything can be achieved with enough ambition. there is no tradition that cannot be overthrown by a turn of the tables.

he takes it all in with zero disbelief, every syllable tightly ingrained into his conscious. he recites it back with utmost sincerity, and his father beams with much pride. it is then that he is asked to come forward, and his father takes his slim hands in his. cold, he thinks. rough. but he doesn’t mind. not even for a second.

“your potential with magic is astounding.” the patriarch sings with much praise, rubbing circles onto the back of his scarred hands. jinseok tries his hardest not to wince .”you will only grow more powerful, more grand—like fine wine once aged.” his smile drips with mystery, but the young boy is much too focused on his father’s words to notice that something was amiss  “our family would be safe in these hands when you come of age.”

iv.

it is tradition, they answer, every time he poses to ask. still, he fails to understand the novelty behind attending a school infested with muggles, when he has been doing so well with the tutors at home. they tell him it’s to prepare him for his life outside of the protective barriers of their manor, to set him up for even greater challenges, but hubris makes him think that he can handle himself well enough without the influence of the lower class.

he has no choice, though. he’s already been enrolled.

he finds it hard to fit in with the kids who’ve known each other for far longer, but he has no plans of ever blending in with their crowd. he is raised to think that muggles are of a lower stature than wizard-kind, and it pains him so that he has to breathe the same air that they do on an almost daily basis. but he’s an heir and it is because of this that he has to maintain his airs, so he keeps his vile thoughts to himself and focuses, instead, on graduating quick.

his classmates hear news of his being an elite and do their very best to earn his favor. the girls giggle and blush when he walks past them in the hallways, and he scoffs at their whispered praises towards his looks. they all want to sit with him, to be with him, to talk to him, possibly thinking that forging friendships with an heir will transfer blessings to their baskets. perhaps it would’ve worked on others, but it only all it did was piss-off the haughty boy.

yosul is no different. they all awe and sing praises at his prowess, but he could feel the empty  flattery beneath their tones. these are children of parents who owe his family debts, children of fathers who are in need of a pay raise. they want to be called his friend for the benefits, and jinseok refuses to allow them the privilege.

(one succeeds in gaining his friendship, though. and they remain close to this day.)

in the morning he is hounded by pink-cheeked girls aiming to earn a million-dollar smile from the stoic ice prince, chased by sweaty guys who want to pull him into their muggle sports teams. in the afternoon he is surrounded by overeager wizard kids  asking him how he does his tricks in the most exaggerated of ways. at night he comes home to shower thrice and rid his skin of the filth it has touched, and he slips in one more scrub as a precaution.

just a few more years, jinseok, he thinks to himself as his forehead rests upon the shower’s wet tile, a mantra to keep himself sane amidst his unfortunate circumstance. it will all be over once you’re head of the family.

v.

his hopes and dreams collapse  a few hours after graduation.

he is told to go home for a sort of celebration, and jinseok wholeheartedly thinks that it is to congratulate him for his stellar performance at the school. he arrives to the manor to see a banquet laid out, and his arrogance leads him to believe that the festivities are all done in his name. their entire clan is in attendance and he greets all of them with a sweet grin, barely wondering why only a few offer their congratulations, too engrossed in his own hubris.

it is only until the heirloom is revealed and handed to his brother that he realizes that the ceremony isn’t for him.  

he moves on instinct and runs, out of the compound and into the busy streets of gangnam. he is met with a torrent of rain and he curses the sky for its heavy need for dramatics. he feels crushed, humiliated, betrayed by the words-the promise!— of the father he so trusted. the tears in his eyes mix with the droplets of rain that hit his handsome face, crumpled by the weight of a dream that slipped out of his hands  before he could even achieve it.

“that should’ve been mine,” he coughs out in between choked sobs, dragging his aching legs to the hongdae station, his wand feeling like fire against his tightly clenched fist. “that heirloom was promised to me.”

he enters the arena after six in the evening and exits at dawn with an unparalleled win streak.

he disappears for two days to collect his thoughts, his wizard guards unable to track him down, their spells blocked by a protection charm he cast for the sole purpose of solitude. he returns to the manor with dark-rimmed hues, his brown eyes clouded with a need to reclaim what he thinks is rightfully his. he announces that he will move out in the morning  to the sound of his younger sister’s shock, and he declares war to his brother for the family head’s most prized seat.

his brother only laughs at his challenge. jinseok vows to make him regret every second of glee.

vi.

he’s in his second year at university when the government commends him for his undergraduate thesis. it’s a masterpiece, reporters quip, quite intrigued by the innovations the twenty-one year old’s ideas  would bring to seoul’s underground transportation system. he answers every question with studied ease, his smile soft and his voice gentle as he smoothly explains his work in layman’s terms to the eager presses.

“did you brother have a hand in your thesis?” a newsman carelessly motions.

jinseok feels the muscles in his jaw clench for a second, but he is quick to school his expression to a more appreciative front. “aside from giving me inspiration,” he begins, his tone sounding most sincere despite his syllables being nothing but mere lies, “my brother has never touched my work. everything i wrote was from my own research.”

the magazine headlines read “brotherly love and friendly competition.” the young man smirks and scoffs at the irony. with a flick of his finger and a wordless spell, the flammable bunch bursts into flames and crumbles into ashes.

vii.

there is a blanket of fog that always envelopes the black market’s premises.

it is especially strong around the dueling arena, the view from inside the cross-hatched cage obscured by a thick layer of smoke, the only visible thing being the sparks of magic that hint at an ongoing battle. the screams from the audience grow louder with each strike, and they get to their feet when a victor emerges. the duel for the championship trophy is over, and the fog lifts to reveal an empty stage, devoid of any more of the noisy onlookers.

there are footsteps on pavement that echo lightly in the enchanted chamber. the new champion is led to one of the inner rooms, expectant of a lavish banquet to be held in his glory. the room is dark when he enters, abysmal when the doors close. his frightened snigger bounces upon the hollow walls.

“this is not fu—“

“incendio!”

the silence breaks with the incantation, and the new victor barely moves in time to avoid the incoming inferno. he grabs his wand from his pocket and aims at the blackness, blinking his eyes to will them to adjust to the dark. they do not. not before another spell is called and it hits him right above his chest, effectively knocking out the air from his lungs which leads him to crash to the ground in a pathetic heap of former glory.

from the darkness emerges a tall man with brown hair, half of his face concealed with a hard golden mask. his hand, tight against his darkwood wand, is etched with remnants of scars, a tell-tale sign of a most stubborn core. he heaves a tired sigh at the sight of the fallen victor, his head shaking in what looks like utter disappointment.

“master yoo,” the man behind the masked one begins, but he is cut-off with his male’s  raised hand.

“get him out of my sight,” the masked one commands with venomous spite, removing his elaborate headgear  to reveal the youngest male heir of the revered yoo clan. “there is no place for the weak in the yoo undergrounds.”