𝙋𝙍𝘼𝙔 𝙏𝙊 𝙂𝙊𝘿.

it was a momentary lapse of judgement, he realizes, to play a game involving guns and moving targets with a detective who has years of weapons training under his belt, while jiyong could count the number of times he held a gun on one hand. the only sliver of hope he has is for one of the other players to get a lucky shot in and eliminate dabin for him, but the longer the match drags on, the less likely that chance becomes. if his calculations are correct, there are five players left, including himself and hopefully not his best friend. how he managed to make it this far into the round is beyond him, but he is now determined to bring the victory home. whatever it takes.

a man rounds the corner, peeking over his shoulder instead of keeping his eyes on what’s in front of him. jiyong doesn’t hesitate and pulls the trigger. one down, three to go. he silently thanks his time in the aegis for teaching him to stay alert at all times and to stay calm in even the most dire situations; maybe he’s learned more from them than he thought he did. and maybe he is taking this game a bit too serious, considering they’re playing for fun with people who seemingly have even less experience with guns than he does, but he has always been competitive. he has always wanted to be the best.

he’s got to try.

a set of footsteps comes his way, and he presses himself against the wall, waiting for them to walk right into his trap—if he can even call it that. just because it worked once, doesn’t mean it will work twice, especially not when the first time was an accident. a fortunate one, but an accident nonetheless. but the person never comes around the corner and curiosity gets the better of him. mistake number two, jiyong thinks when he stares straight into his friend’s eyes. the witch doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there or if the sound of those footsteps even belonged to him, but it doesn’t matter. he quickly retreats before dabin has the chance to shoot. “bin, it’s me,” he calls out to the detective, “we’ve been friends for over a decade, remember? please have mercy on me. or at least hear me out before you finish me off.”

{ ... }

“Jiyong, is everything okay? It’s not like you to call so late. What’s up, kiddo?” his deep voice spoke out, concern and comfort rolling off like a weighted blanket as soon as he answered the call.  

fatigue cast a shadow over his features as he stepped out into the night, pulling his hoodie tighter around his small frame. summer nights in seoul were rarely cold, albeit a bit rainy at times, yet he couldn’t keep himself from shivering. his feline companion followed closely behind him, as she always did, and curiously looked up at him when he came to a standstill, her tail flicking against his leg impatiently. wasting no time, she jumped into his lap when he took a seat on the steps in front of the tall building and settled down. 

a fond smile crinkled his eyes and curled the corners of his lips, and he gently scratched the cat between her ears, rewarding him with the most satisfied purrs he’d heard in days. “i’m sorry,” jiyong apologized quietly. it was met with silence, but he expected nothing more. raven’s demonic passenger had been oddly quiet recently, and the witch wondered if she purposely left him alone because he hadn’t been feeling well in the past few weeks. he’d have to ask her next time, though he doubted he’d get an honest answer out of her.

a lot had been weighing down on him lately and his resolve was slowly starting to crumble. jiyong had come as far as admitting to needing a helping hand, but reaching out and asking for help was a hurdle he hadn’t been willing to cross. until tonight. his thumb hovered over the call button hesitantly. from experience, he knew his former mentor wouldn’t mind him calling at this hour. victor yi was like a father to him, but he didn’t want to take advantage of the kindness the man had shown him. who else was he supposed to call though?

dongchul?

backdated december 2019.

birthdays don’t mean much to jiyong.

correction: his own birthday doesn’t mean to him, but he has enough of a heart left to remember that yoona’s birthday is coming up soon, and he is determined to find her the perfect gift. but as much money as jiyong has, picking out presents for people has never been his strong suit. the witch could ask for help; there are plenty of people who wouldn’t mind helping him find something nice for yoona, but he’s too stubborn to ask.

typical seo jiyong.

the idea comes to him late at night, when he’s taking a break from studying and finds himself looking at a picture of himself and other aegis members. though he doesn’t always agree with the way the aegis handles their business, he has found a family within the gang—a bit of a chaotic family, but a family nonetheless, and while he rarely says it out loud, jiyong loves them. they saved his life after all, whether they know it or not.

“you think she’ll like it?” jiyong asks raven after telling her about his idea, and he swears he sees his cat roll her eyes before she jumps off the table. “whatever, brat,” he mumbles. god, he really needs to find friends that don’t have fur and who don’t walk on four legs. preferably ones that aren’t possessed by any demons either, but he isn’t that picky.

jiyong sets out to buy collage frames the next day and spends six hours going through pictures of him, yoona, and some other people he knows are important to her. he eventually drops the stubborn act and texts vic for help because he didn’t realize just how many pictures there truly were and maybe he’s getting a little desperate. honestly, he thinks when he’s finally satisfied with his selection, this could’ve been a lot faster if he had just asked for help sooner. maybe next time. maybe he’ll do it again in five years—if they’re all still alive and together in five years. jiyong sure hopes they will be.

on the day of yoona’s birthday, the medic drops off the neatly wrapped gift in her office, along with a card that says ‘have an egg-cellent birthday’ next to the image of a smiling egg. (jiyong thinks it’s cute.) a part of him is disappointed when he finds her office empty, but he’s slightly embarrassed about his present and maybe it’s for the better he isn’t there to see her reaction, just in case she hates it. oh god, what if she does? he writes a quick note and carefully places it on top of the package, before returning to the med bay with raven in tow.

“i don’t know if i belong in the aegis anymore.”

worrying his lip between his teeth, jiyong can’t bring himself to look at his mentor. vic is the last one who’d judge him for saying such things, and the only person he trusts enough to share this with, but that doesn’t help settle his nerves.

“i don’t know if i ever belonged in the aegis at all.” there is a slight tremble in his voice as the words quietly spill from his lips. “not that i have any regrets. you taught me so much in the short time we worked together and i’ll always be grateful for that, but—” the witch pauses, but shakes his head. “sometimes i wonder if i would’ve been better off if i had listened to my grandparents and hadn’t moved to seoul.”

that had never been an option though. jiyong doesn’t even need to think about it, already knows his curiosity was too strong to ignore and that he would’ve ended up in the capital sooner or later. but curiosity killed the cat, they say.

jiyong knows he’s lucky he hasn’t met the same fate. yet.

a soft sigh escapes his mouth. “i know i’ve done a lot of good things over the past few years, most of which i couldn’t have done without them, and i wouldn’t take any of it back if i could. but do i agree with everything the aegis does? do i see myself still working for them five years from now?” the answer to both questions is a resounding no, but he doesn’t say it—doesn’t think he has to either. vic understands. he always does.

“the real question is, where do i go from here?”

{ ... }

she’s seated in the back corner, hoping for privacy, when he walks in. the man catches her attention immediately. more than the pretty face and chic features, his aura is what makes her head turn toward him. this is the one, somin thinks immediately. when he walks up to her table and speaks, she smiles politely. “i haven’t been waiting long at all,” she replies simply, “please, sit. do you want any coffee? my treat.” the offer is a genuine one, but she hopes he doesn’t feel obligated to take it. “before we chat, i’d like you fill out this questionnaire,” she says, handing a three-page packet over to the man, “it just has a few questions about who you are and what you do. in a way, it’s to see if we’re compatible at all. i’d like us to be friends before co-workers, if that’s all right? i’m not saying you have the job already, but i’d like to trust you first.”

jiyong shrugs off his coat before taking a seat across from the woman, and a polite smile forms on his lips when his eyes meet hers. surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the same discomfort he normally does when he meets someone new, but to say he’s entirely comfortable in her presence would be a lie. it’s a good start nonetheless, even if he’s only been here for less than five minutes and there’s plenty of time for him to mess things up still. oh, god, why did he have to remind himself of that? idiot. now he’s feeling nervous again.

“please,” he accepts her offer, “but i think tea would help calm my nerves a little more right now.” the words fall from his mouth without second thought and he follows it up with a soft chuckle. he is rarely this forward when it comes to his feelings, especially to people he doesn’t know very well, and somin definitely falls under that category. then again, lately his walls haven’t been as high up as they used to be, and sometimes he even catches himself showing glimpses of his former self—the sweet, shy kid he was before he came to seoul.

his grandparents would be delighted to see him like this again, but that is a thought he doesn’t want to dwell on for too long. jiyong skims over the questionnaire and briefly glances up at the woman when she continues speaking. “friends?” he asks, but doesn’t find himself hating the idea. “well, i can’t say i expected a friendship out of this, but—” the witch shakes his head, unable to keep himself from smiling. “i agree it would be nice if we got along.”

he reaches into one of his coat’s pockets, searching for a pen, but instead his fingers brush over the quills of his hedgehog. “oh,” he says quietly and lifts up his familiar to set her down on the table so she can stretch her legs. “i’m sorry, i don’t go anywhere without thistle. i hope that won’t be a problem.” jiyong finds what he is looking for in his other pocket and pulls the questionnaire a bit closer. “wait—” he looks up at somin, squinting a little, though there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “before i fill this out, how do you feel about cats?”

a starter for ↝ @sominmaneo​

money is overrated to someone who could’ve retired before even being eligible to work, but jiyong has never been one to sit at home and waste his time doing nothing of importance. he comes across the sign purely on accident, walking past it on one of his many trips to stock up on ingredients for his salves and potions, and almost continues on his way without so much as a second glance. but something urges him to turn around and note down the phone number, which he completely forgets about until he returns to his apartment later that evening and opens his notes in search of a recipe.

hesitantly, he presses the numbers in the sequence they are written down and his thumb hovers over the call button while he mulls over the idea again. his finger twitches and hits the button before he’s done weighing his options, effectively making the decision for him and causing him to panic. he silently curses the touch sensitivity of smartphones, but freezes when a voice on the other end of the line interrupts him. shit. it’s definitely too late to turn back now, and to make matters worse, he stumbles over his words when he answers his potential new employer. all in all, a great first impression.

despite that the rest of the phone call goes smoothly, he is surprised when somin, as he learns her name is, invites him to an interview, and he finds himself standing in front of a small coffee shop a couple days later. it is the first time he’s heard of the place and it takes him longer to find than he expected, though he still manages to make it with five minutes to spare. when he enters the building, his eyes wander across the shop and a woman seated in the back catches his attention. he hopes she’s the person he’s looking for to avoid yet another disaster as he approaches her table.

“han somin?” jiyong asks, lips quirking into the smallest of smiles before he politely bows. he may have an attitude, but he was raised to mind his manners. “seo jiyong. i hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

home is a concept jiyong never quite managed to grasp.

namhae is a bandaid on a wound that requires stitches, a temporary fix for a heart he can barely hold together with his bare hands. he finds moments of happiness in the smell of freshly picked herbs and the clatter of wood and steel when he cooks up a new recipe and a gentle summer breeze playing with his hair. but when he stares up at the stars painted on his ceiling, he can’t help but wish for something more.

eighteen summers come and go, and he finds himself standing in the middle of an empty apartment in seocho, with eyes full of wonder and a head filled with dreams. his cat rubs against him, curling her tail around his leg, and a gentle smile forms on his lips as he crouches down to scratch her between the ears. “this our home now,” he says to her, to which she responds with a noise somewhere between a meow and purr.

but the word home still leaves a hollow feeling in his chest. he tries to fill the void with the company of strangers, who taint his skin with marks and bruises that only fuel his self-hatred when he looks at them in the mirror. they never stay. he tells himself he doesn't want them to, but when he muffles his sobs into his pillow after he's left to take care of himself, like so many times before, he realizes how badly he craves to be held and loved by someone who wants all of him and not just his body. but who could ever love someone like him?

guarded, selfish, and yet hopelessly vulnerable: such is seo jiyong. not the lone wolf he claims to be, but just a simple human being with a heart made of glass he so desperately tries to protect. a monster in the making, as he calls himself.

and then han yunho comes along, wearing a smile so bright it could chase away any dark cloud. he has never met anyone made of sunshine and stardust, but it is the only way he knows how to describe him. his heart surrenders without putting up much of a fight, and he catches himself daring to dream of a happy ending to a story of endless heartbreak and broken promises. maybe he is allowed to be happy, after all.

as the sound of his boyfriend’s soft breaths slowly lulls him to sleep, he comes to the realization that some homes have a heartbeat and that his is locked in the chest of a man who turned out to be a guiding light in some of his darkest times. a lazy smile quirks at the corners of his mouth and his eyes flutter closed once more. for the first time in twenty-one years, he is content with the life he’s living, and the tempest sweeping about inside of him finally settles down.

he lifts his head, eyelids heavy with sleep and a smile still lingering on his lips. it is a rare moment in which he’s awake while yunho is asleep. normally it’s the other way around, and he wants to cherish the moment for as long as possible. words he’s never spoken before threaten to spill from his mouth, but instead he nuzzles back into the pixie’s chest and whispers a small, “thank you,” before sleep overtakes him too.

home was a concept jiyong never quite managed to grasp. 

not accepting!         ✂︎ —— get to know my muse ¸

again, my mind is drawing a blank on this one. perks of growing up in a household where everyone, including himself is a good cook? let’s just go with that. what i do know is that jiyong would be vocal if the food he was served wasn’t up to standards—though it does depend on how bad it is. if it isn’t that bad, he most likely won’t say anything, but if it’s disgusting and/or a potential health risk, he will definitely let someone know and he won’t be polite about it.