who are you?

jaewon wouldn’t let himself get dragged down by anything, or anyone for that matter. it was enough to be scouted ( somewhat ) for some sort of elite mission in competition with other leagues. his mood wavers even more when he finds out when it’s a partner mission. to be partnered with someone that gave less than one hundred and twenty five percent – there was no way that he would have handled that with calmness and coolness. it was an eruption waiting to happen.

but it’s a good thing that he doesn’t have to worry about it. hopefully. knowing jongin, there’s a certain fire inside of him. the same fire that burns so deeply within himself. he sees it, he feels it. it brings a smirk to his face – someone that can finally keep up with him. no offense to his team, or anything – truth be told, he cares for every single one of them.

but jongin and jaewon – it’s the real dream team. no ifs, ands, or buts about it. it’s not cockiness if you can actually back up your words and thoughts with ability. he smiles – actually smiles. “jongin, with the two of us, we’re more than winning at this point already.” his fingers clutch against his weapon in disguise – his own necklace. “but let’s find some monsters so we can actually win. saying it is one thing – doing it is another.”

jaewon speaks the truth and jongin can only nod his head. the grin on his face is hard to wipe off though –– he can practically smell victory so close to them; mostly thanks to his partner being someone he knows that at the very least he can trust with getting the job done well.

“i’m so excited,” jongin says, and momentarily he acts his age. while he hasn’t been the biggest fan of fighting ( the first timeline had scarred him enough ), hunting monsters was another thing. “where do you suggest we go first?”

and he knows that despite having “lived” a timeline more than jaewon, jaewon was still the hyung and did have a higher position than jongin in the league. he was more than willing to listen to anything jaewon had to say, he trusted the boy and his skills enough to know that they probably wouldn’t end up in a sticky situation.

a brief look into the asshole heartthob host’s instagram :

every single day’s the same, the same old routine – boring and dull. he does pizza deliveries all day, driving back and forth through the city into the evening before ringing up various items that function as midnight snacks to people until the early hours of the morning. at least, on the days he has night shifts otherwise his nights might look a little different depending on the day, on his plans. but the next morning everything starts again anyway, the same routine for another time, for the hundredth time.

it’s something baekhyun dislikes with every fiber of his body but something he’s so content with at the same time; a conflict that stems from the missing desire for more, having no further aspirations in his life. baekhyun’s not wishing to reach out for the stars, for any kind of happiness. who needs that?

it will always be this shitty job, this shitty life.

( he guesses, he can live with that as long as he has the shadows on his side. )

eyes flicker down to the little slip of paper in between his fingers, checking the apartment number once again to make sure it’s the right one. yes, it is. and even after he rings the bell, it doesn’t take long for the door to click open, a pleasant surprise. that’s what baekhyun thinks, at least, an even bigger surprise being revealed only a second later – greeted by not only a familiar face but with an even more familiar voice that manages to let shudders crawl down his arms.

there are a couple of remarks sitting on the tip of his tongue to the other’s speechlessness but, “oh–– it’s you,” manages to escape him before anything else and the blank, indifferent expression that was sitting on his face is immediately replaced. a serious sense of deja-vu is hitting him, easily brushed off because he didn’t think he’d ever meet that boy again. he has no idea that the fuzziness, the tingly feeling is coming from something entirely else. “did your girl order pizza from us again––” baekhyun interrupts himself and a faint smile curls onto his lips, soft and barely visible to hide away a bitterness he can’t quite place that’s laced into his voice, “–– what was your name again? i didn’t catch it the last time.”

quitting isn’t easy; jongin knows this. it especially isn’t so when it’s got something to do with your heart and what it wants. ‘mind over matter’ as some would say but jongin, as hard as he tries, calls bullshit on that most of the time. it’s even harder when the object of your (ex? current?) affections is standing right there in front of you.

he’d thought avoiding baekhyun would be easier now –– that because he knew better, knew that this boy would bring him nothing but regret and would later on result in his own damn downfall, that ignoring him would be easy, that avoiding him would be the best solution.

yet the world is mysterious, it works in a way that jongin can’t even comprehend. hell, he’d practically lived two lives, he was a hero with a magical transformation and all so why was it that bumping into baekhyun still seemed so unfathomable to him? 

“no she didn’t,” jongin says, and his hands fumble with the wallet, a part of him wishes for time to go faster –– so baekhyun could just leave –– but another wants to live in this moment. “my friends wanted the pizza today.”

it’s obvious that baekhyun doesn’t remember the first timeline, so jongin’s been sentenced to his memory alone. the memory of them and their faked ‘forevers’. of baekhyun’s skin against his own, and then the memory of baekhyun crushing his heart and leaving him to dust.

he’s spaced out again.

“it’s jong––” he nearly replies, but it feels all too much like deja vu. the last thing he’d want is a repeat of his first life. “you don’t have to know. i’m just your customer,” and the word feels bitter against his tongue –– just. they aren’t even friends here and jongin should know better than to pursue anything more than what they already have. 

☁ ⎯⎯⎯ { social media adventures 01 ;                 if he’d ever figure out how it works –– the instagram edition

shadowbound, even after all those years, baekhyun hasn’t really figured out how exactly social media works and what its actual purpose is. but if he would, that’s what his instagram account would look like – simply everything that manages to catch his eyes; featuring stray cats. his posts are messy and neither follow a certain posting pattern nor any kind of aesthetic, there also is no colour scheme although he prefers to upload darker pictures with a lot of black or those he made at night. most seen on his account are the countless stray cats he regularly feeds and photos of random shadows he thought looked pretty. because of the fact that he hardly ever takes selfies, his face doesn’t make much of an appearance but he ( please, don’t tell anyone! ) enjoys uploading photos of people close to him very much. his captions are usually empty since he doesn’t really uses emojis and has nothing special to say.

please be okay, please. 

with his clasped hands, doyoung had prayed hard for jongin’s safety and victory. as much as he wants to help and protect the other, he still refuses to fight after all these years and he figures he would’ve only been some kind of nuisance in jongin’s way. but this is his hero and he’ll always stay by his hero’s side. as soon as the fight ends, he rushes over and nearly latches himself onto jongin’s arm. “you’re always worrying about me, but i’m fine.”

always playing the hero. doyoung shakes his head, a sigh of relief exiting his body. “you stress me out so much, you know that? you can’t tell from my face, but i was so worried. i thought i was gonna die of a heart attack if anything terrible happened to you.” he loosen his hold on jongin to gently smile at the other, unshed tears brimming his eyelashes. he doesn’t like showing his tears, but every fight alongside jongin leaves him with a surplus of worries and fears.

“my hero, whatever will we do with you?” doyoung carefully caresses jongin’s face before moving his hand to softly pet the other’s hair. he takes in the other’s appearance and bites his lip from saying anything more. the blood makes him worry, but he tries not to make a big deal about it. “how much does it hurt though?”

the heavy feeling of worry that once sat on his chest is lifted the moment he realizes that doyoung is fine. his arms still sting but jongin only winces slightly, he doesn’t want to worry doyoung –– the card too kind, too good to him. he smiles at the boy, in hopes to let the worry dissipate.

“you can’t die,” jongin says, voice calm, almost warm even, “i would never let that happen.” and despite the bruises on his own body, he finds himself already feeling better around doyoung. and maybe it’s the fact that doyoung after all, was the serenity card, or maybe it was just doyoung himself and jongin, after all their time spent together, found comfort in the boy.

he lifts his bruised arm up and gently pats at the bottom of doyoung’s eyes, soft laughter leaving his lips. “don’t cry. i’m still around, right? and smiling!” he manages to say. doyoung is unlike any card he’s met, kind to a fault and genuine too. jongin had always believed that he was lucky to call doyoung a card of his own.

@ccjongin

he stood in a corner of the studio’s lobby, watching dance students file out of the mirrored practice room, toting duffle bags, swinging water bottles, mopping sweat from their faces and chatting boisterously with each other as if the world around them wasn’t a complete lie. one or two eyed him curiously, maybe even suspiciously, as they passed; he wasn’t a regular, he wasn’t even familiar. he didn’t do anything resembling dancing ever, let alone set foot in the dance studio his best friend taught at. he loomed ominously in his corner, quiet, unmoving, his hands in his pocket, like a shadow with eyes.

if he made eye contact with any of the students, he stared back, as if challenging them to say something. he was in a confrontational mood, in fact, it was what he’d come here for in the first place, and if he had to get any nosy passerby off his case with a few choice words, he would.

when he was sure the room was empty he brushed past the last student, his target in sight. the air was still thick with the lingering humidity of sweat and active bodies, making the cotton of his own t-shirt hug his frame, as if prompted by some sudden bout of static electricity. he sniffed, eyeing the back of jongin’s frame with all the patience of a hungry wolf. 

taeyong hadn’t missed the sudden shift in jongin’s behavior, the way he seemed to avoid eye contact or conversation or interaction altogether. they’d been best friends one minute, then strangers the next, almost literally, leaving taeyong to add jongin’s distressing apathy to a growing list of stressors. 

perhaps it was too self-indulgent to think his best friend might have been there for him after the death of his brother.

he thought about picking up a nearby towel from the floor, balling it up, and throwing it at the back of jongin’s head to get his attention. instead he sniffed, cleared his throat, kept his hands safely in the pockets of his jeans.

“so you are alive then,” he greeted finally, flatly, a dig at the fact that he hadn’t heard from jongin in weeks, yet was all too aware of his presence (or lack thereof) looming over his head, “good to know.”

there are little things to cherish when you’ve only lived life once. jongin’s lived it twice; has known the pain of loss, of feeling. in the first timeline, he’d almost completely lost dancing once, out of stupidity. a broken heart. in this timeline he learns that dancing gives him just the right amount of distraction he needs.

one step, two. one step, two. there’s a rhythm to it as he lets his body follow the music. he turns away from the large mirror to look at the students, some of them breathing heavily, some he’d never even seen in his first life. “well,” he says, clapping his hands together, “that’s all for today! it’s getting a little late so please get home safely! i’ll see you guys next week!” he dismisses them before he walks towards the speaker where his phone laid.

the students leave one by one, waving goodbye to him and when the class is finally, completely empty, jongin rests his cheek against the palm of his hand as he scrolls through his playlist solely for the class. it’s a good distraction, really, it keeps his mind away from the fact that he lives a life less worthy than this.

and then he hears it, a distinct voice –– one he’d admittedly been avoiding for a while. the voice that had once yelled at the world to kill him only to turn silent when faced with the fact that his best friend offered to be the one to do so.

he turns to taeyong and his heart clenches like it’s been forcefully squeezed. “barely,” he manages to reply before he locks his phone, carefully setting it to the side. he’d rather not be here, he’d rather be at home; somewhere much further from taeyong. his existence alone served as a reminder that jongin was a murderer (as though his status as a hero wasn’t enough to fuel it already).