#feykazuki

           it’s quiet.  too quiet.  the two of them are many, many things, but they are not this.  they don’t do quiet, they’ve never done quiet.  and yet tonight, for some strange reason, he can hear the wind whispering and the crows cawing.

          fuck that.

          let’s make some noise.

          “come now, zuki,”  he drawls, leisurely pacing down the empty street, his silver bat dragging along the gravel.  “i know you’re out there.  won’t you come out and play?  i’ve been so bored lately.”  a short laugh cuts through the silent air.  “wanna know a lil secret?  i was thinkin’ ‘bout you last night.  you, and how pretty you’d look with my hands ‘round your throat.  bet you’d get off on that.”

          his lips curl upward as he slows to a stop next to a street light.  “hey, zuki.  how’s your hearing?”  that’s the only warning he gives before he raises his bat and strikes the side of the metal lamppost.  the brilliant CLANG! that rings out is deafening for a human, and perhaps more-so for those with enhanced senses.

@feykazuki

hea woke up around half an hour ago and she was, mostly, ready for a new day. she had done her deeds - she had combed her hair, brushed her teeth, even got dressed up as she normally would, so this, really, was looking like a normal day so far. she was kinda hoping it would stay that way, too, but she had a feeling that it won’t happen. the bunny familiar slid on her shoes quite easily and then stretched in front of the mirror she had, patting her own cheeks as a cheer up after doing so. she was good to go.

walking to her store was routine for hea, since it was only 20 minutes away by walk from her home, but this time, she felt like taking the bus and she was in luck, managing to catch the bus at the perfect time. and now, she was really suspicious about life. things were lining up almost too good, so she was expecting something bad to happen at any time. she, successfully might i add, got off the bus, steadily walking towards her store that was just close by. 

then, she saw him, and she had to do a double take. he was leaning against the door of her store, his silver hair making it known to her exactly who he was, and her thoughts became blurry as soon as she could sniff the clear smell of blood, something in her just turning. this must be why i had a good start. the familiar was quite acknowledged with the werewolf, she knew of his ways, and, to be completely honest, she was still scared of him. that, though, didn’t stop hea from patching him up the first time when he got hurt, and neither did it stop her for the second, but now, being a third, hea supposed it will become a habit for them to meet like this. 

bending over to him, hea put one hand on his forehead for a few seconds as a way to check his temperature, and then she put both hands against her knees, not wanting to upset the werewolf by touching him too much. well, that, and she was pretty much fearful that she will get a bad reaction if she does. he doesn’t act that way towards you, her mind wanted to argue, but this was no time to be in her thoughts more, he was hurt.

❛❛ kazuki? ❜❜  

she whispered the name, her lips pursing against each other in a small frown as she had waited for a response, before continuing, wanting to be sure that the man was aware of his surroundings and he was alright with her bringing him in the store to get him cleaned up.

@feykazuki

It always starts like this.

The equation is simple, Kazuki = Gunwoo. They huddle together, the two scraps of little boys they once were, and Gunwoo can’t help but think this is all he has in the world, bundled up in his small arms. It should be safety and warmth, because after all, Kazuki’s his lifeline—the only way he’s securely tethered to the ground after all these years. He grips him as tight as he can and doesn’t let go. 

But in this stupid dream (a fucking nightmare, really), he never manages to hold on. Kazuki is always tugging, tugging, and there is only so much little Gunwoo can take. In the end, he always finds Kazuki’s shadow sprinting away out the edge of his line of sight. 

So here’s what it actually is: blind panic, gripping fear. Because no matter how loud Gunwoo shouts, or how fast he runs, he never catches up. Always almost, almost there, fingers brushing his shoulder—yet, Kazuki remains just barely out of his reach, every time.

The dreams come sporadically, but they never change. He always ends up waking in cold sweat, heart thumping, and a little hollower than he actually feels, because—

Kazuki always leaves in the end.

—"Fuck," Gunwoo rasps, jolting awake with sheer panic broiling in his chest. He's shaking, he knows he is, but the disconnect between him and his limbs is jarring and he barely realises he’s the one trembling.

“Fuck,” he repeats, running shaky fingers through his hair. His breaths are ragged and shallow in the raw fear. So it’s only when Gunwoo notes the warm figure by his side that he almost collapses in relief, hands scrabbling to grasp the material of Kazuki’s shirt and haphazardly burying his face into his chest. “‘Zuki. Oh my god. You’re here, you’re here.”

And, Jesus, Gunwoo pretends there isn’t a newfound wetness in his eyes from how real it all feels. All he can seem to do is mumble Kazuki’s name incoherently, eyes shut tight, fingers grasping at as much of Kazuki he can find. 

Yet, all that runs through his head is: please don’t ever fucking leave me.