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Rumi uses her signal, changes lanes. “Are you that upset about me having a driver’s license?” Ponders. “You do really have outdated values.”
“What—”—he sits straighter, faces her properly now—“—that’s not—!” Jinu puffs out his cheeks, pout only growing more prominent. “That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
He tucks his chin into his hand, rests his elbow on the window seal. “It’s stupid,” he says, voice muffled. He stares out the window, reflection faint.
She considers that statement for all of five seconds. “Well, you are an idiot.”
“Rumi.”
“Sorry.” The car comes to a smooth stop. “But seriously Jinu, just tell me. Are you feeling bad again? Do I need to turn around and take you back to the hospital?” Try as she might, worry rises within her; the steering wheel will surely leave an imprint. “Don’t keep it a secret just because…” …you’d struggle to ask.
“All I need is to rest, drink water, and eat properly,” he says through a sigh, “so we don’t have to go back. I don’t feel good, but—”—shrug—“—nothing unexpected. Just a result of poor lifestyle and passing out.”
The light changes; she drives forward. “It can’t be worse than—”—your proposal, but it may be a bit too soon for a dig at that—“—finding you in the hospital after a week.” Rumi chews on a lump of skin in her mouth, bites off the smallest of bits. “Please just tell me.”
“You don’t have to worry about it. I’m just upset my suit… yeah, my suit is all wrinkled.” He tries to adjust his jacket. A deep crease refuses to disappear. “This was expensive, you know.”
Time for the big guns: “Jinu, I’m your wife. I think I have a right to know.”
OK, he probably is upset about the suit, about having to change back into his work clothes because that can’t be comfortable after a hospital visit. Knowing him, that’s part of the truth. Knowing him better, he’s still lying.
Rumi uses her signal, changes lanes. “Are you that upset about me having a driver’s license?” Ponders. “You do really have outdated values.”
“What—”—he sits straighter, faces her properly now—“—that’s not—!” Jinu puffs out his cheeks, pout only growing more prominent. “That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
He tucks his chin into his hand, rests his elbow on the window seal. “It’s stupid,” he says, voice muffled. He stares out the window, reflection faint.
She considers that statement for all of five seconds. “Well, you are an idiot.”
“Rumi.”
“Sorry.” The car comes to a smooth stop. “But seriously Jinu, just tell me. Are you feeling bad again? Do I need to turn around and take you back to the hospital?” Try as she might, worry rises within her; the steering wheel will surely leave an imprint. “Don’t keep it a secret just because…” …you’d struggle to ask.
“All I need is to rest, drink water, and eat properly,” he says through a sigh, “so we don’t have to go back. I don’t feel good, but—”—shrug—“—nothing unexpected. Just a result of poor lifestyle and passing out.”
The light changes; she drives forward. “It can’t be worse than—”—your proposal, but it may be a bit too soon for a dig at that—“—finding you in the hospital after a week.” Rumi chews on a lump of skin in her mouth, bites off the smallest of bits. “Please just tell me.”
“You don’t have to worry about it. I’m just upset my suit… yeah, my suit is all wrinkled.” He tries to adjust his jacket. A deep crease refuses to disappear. “This was expensive, you know.”
Time for the big guns: “Jinu, I’m your wife. I think I have a right to know.”
OK, he probably is upset about the suit, about having to change back into his work clothes because that can’t be comfortable after a hospital visit. Knowing him, that’s part of the truth. Knowing him better, he’s still lying.
Yeon-Jul: Threads of Influence is in the care of Mods Ric, Peaches, Li, and Manda! As the Hunters work together to protect the peace the Honmoon provides, these mods are hard at work behind the scenes to make sure this project shines!
Read more about the mod team on our Carrd.
Links
*Yeon-Jul: Threads of Influence Carrd
*Yeon-Jul Zine on BlueSky
*Yeon-Jul Zine on Instagram
*Yeon-Jul Zine on Twitter/X
Rumi uses her signal, changes lanes. “Are you that upset about me having a driver’s license?” Ponders. “You do really have outdated values.”
“What—”—he sits straighter, faces her properly now—“—that’s not—!” Jinu puffs out his cheeks, pout only growing more prominent. “That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
He tucks his chin into his hand, rests his elbow on the window seal. “It’s stupid,” he says, voice muffled. He stares out the window, reflection faint.
She considers that statement for all of five seconds. “Well, you are an idiot.”
“Rumi.”
“Sorry.” The car comes to a smooth stop. “But seriously Jinu, just tell me. Are you feeling bad again? Do I need to turn around and take you back to the hospital?” Try as she might, worry rises within her; the steering wheel will surely leave an imprint. “Don’t keep it a secret just because…” …you’d struggle to ask.
“All I need is to rest, drink water, and eat properly,” he says through a sigh, “so we don’t have to go back. I don’t feel good, but—”—shrug—“—nothing unexpected. Just a result of poor lifestyle and passing out.”
The light changes; she drives forward. “It can’t be worse than—”—your proposal, but it may be a bit too soon for a dig at that—“—finding you in the hospital after a week.” Rumi chews on a lump of skin in her mouth, bites off the smallest of bits. “Please just tell me.”
“You don’t have to worry about it. I’m just upset my suit… yeah, my suit is all wrinkled.” He tries to adjust his jacket. A deep crease refuses to disappear. “This was expensive, you know.”
Time for the big guns: “Jinu, I’m your wife. I think I have a right to know.”
OK, he probably is upset about the suit, about having to change back into his work clothes because that can’t be comfortable after a hospital visit. Knowing him, that’s part of the truth. Knowing him better, he’s still lying.
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Before her is the entrance to the hanok village, with sloping rooftops and vintage windows skirted by bricks. Between the homes with their softly glowing windows are flights of stone steps. A small sign posted at the entrance shows a little man holding a finger to his lips, warning visitors to whisper and behave, but Rumi is anything but quiet and proper as she runs toward the staircase and begins to ascend.
The world around her rushes by as a single name pushes past her panting lips: "Jinu...!"
Around the corner, up at the top of the winding steps, she finds him. In a familiar gray sweater and tight jeans that remind her of a secret meeting what felt like an eternity ago. He rises to his feet, relief burning bright in his eyes as he starts descending to meet her, slow at first, then with urgency in each footfall as he takes two steps at a time.
"Rumi!"
Music to her ears. She’d just seen him one dream ago, but it’s still been too long.
They meet in the middle, driven by the promise of a grateful embrace. It can't be as tangible and real and warm as reality, couldn’t replicate the sensation of two living bodies coming together as one, but when she throws her arms around his neck and hangs off him, she can feel his his soul, his mind, his presence as it finds her own. Both surprise and relief pulses through her veins as Jinu lifts her, swings her around, his laughter light and happy against her cheek. His breath isn't warm, doesn't tickle the shell of her ear, but his spirit has never felt so tangible.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: KPop Demon Hunters (2025)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Jinu/Rumi (KPop Demon Hunters)
Characters: Jinu (KPop Demon Hunters), Rumi (KPop Demon Hunters)
Additional Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Past Trauma, Poverty-induced trauma, Implied/Referenced Eating Disorders, disordered eating behaviors, Self-Worth Issues, Self-Reflection, Exploration on guilt and shame
Summary:
In four hundred years, Jinu has done too many things out of fear. Every time, guilt has turned into shame until it no longer knew its name. During his time under Gwima, anything that wasn't the all-encompassing cycle between dread of punishment and profound shame had left these sorts of fears unaddressed, lurking in the dark corners of the HUNTR/X tower kitchen, waiting to accost him at nearly four AM on a random Tuesday.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
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