just a single tear from you

teumedom​:

(...)

“Okay, I’ll give you that at least. But answer this. Why make a call in the basement? There’s other places in the house that you could have gone.” His arms are now crossed over his chest, his piercing gaze now directly on his lover as he awaits the other’s answer.

Whenever there was tension in a relationship, there were two major ways of dealing with it. The first one would be to address the situation properly, confront the problem head-on and resolve everything through abundant communication. The other would be to bs something and act endearing until the lover somehow forgot about what they were arguing about. While the first one was the far healthier method, as a man with a lot to hide, guess which one Jiho preferred?

Besides, Seojun wasn’t that angry. Though his stance suggested he was still upset, Jiho knew him better than that. 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he said, before shamelessly closing the gap between them and enveloping the other in a tight hug. “It’s a beautiful morning, let’s not argue.” He whined, pressing his cheek against Seojun’s and nuzzling irritatingly close. 

What else, what else. He needed something more to sweeten the deal. 

“I know, I’ll make you breakfast!” That should do it. A certain someone was a foodie, in addition to being a gangster. “Whatever you want. Pancakes? Egg benny?” Jiho started walking them towards the door, planting both of his hands on Seojun’s back and prompting him to go up the stairs. The offending second phone he was caught with had been thrown discreetly into a drawer, thankfully wiped clean. 

@teumedom

When dealing with a dangerous mission, one should always stay focused and remain cautious - undercover assignments especially so. The loneliness was the hardest part. While taking on this different identity, you temporarily bid farewell to your family, friends, and every other social connection from your past. Jiho thought he was prepared for that and as a man who’d rather spend time with computers versus fellow humans, he thought he wouldn’t be tempted. 

Alas, love. It was a curse but one that came with such a pretty face. 

To be fully honest, though their relationship was built on a complicated string of lies, Jiho’s feelings were perfectly genuine. He really did find the love of his life, though they were technically on the opposite sides of the battlefield and he just might get a bullet to the head if the other found out. Perhaps by then he would have managed to figure a way out of this. Or maybe true love would conquer all in the end, just like they did in the fairytales. 

I know, I know, not bloody likely, but let a man dream.

“Baby,” he started, holding both of his hands in the air. “I swear, I am not cheating on you.” In his left hand was a cell phone that his lover didn’t recognized and there was a good reason for that. See, that was one of the ones he used to contact his actual people. Usually when they had a late night, his lover would opt to sleep in until at least nine, which gave Jiho ample time to make a few calls in the privacy of their basement. Why the kid chose to get up early this time he had no idea, especially since he worked extra hard to tire the other out last night. 

Annoyed. Impatient. Bored. Uncomfortable. Resentful. 

People were wrong to assume he had stopped feeling, and that was why he turned to the path he did. If anything, Sijun felt more than ever. His disgruntlement towards the world had never been stronger, and it tasted so bitter on the back of his tongue. He could have been greater, should have been more, and everyone he ever loved disappointed him. Except for one. 

He tightened his grips, sinking his fingers down on the soft padding of the Lan kid’s cheeks. Smooth skinned and plump, utterly unroughened by the chill of this winter. How well taken care of he was...such a sweet, beloved child. 

 “I learned something interesting in these past few weeks,” Sijun whispered, as if he was about to tell this kid a secret. “Blood doesn’t actually taste salty, like some people say. It is actually sweet like syrup. The kind my mother used to dip hawthorn in.” He shut his eyes, reminiscing with the lightest curve of his hips. These days, his memories were becoming finicky and much of the past was a blur. Likely a good thing though, because he no longer had to hold onto the details of his suffering, only the fact they happened so he knew whom to take revenge upon.

“I could really use something sweet right now. What do you think, kid?” He dragged the inner disciple closer, eyes bright with murderous desire. “I know this rundown temple isn’t exactly a beautiful place to die...definitely doesn’t fit your status...” Sijun’s eyes narrowed briefly with disdain at that word, but he was quick to recover his cheeriness. “I know! I’ll let you choose where I cut first to make up for it.” He flashed the Lan disciple his dagger. “Decide quickly.”

Also. 

teumedom :

(...)

That sickening feeling only was getting worse as he stands there, waiting for Mark to respond, to tell him exactly what is so ‘secret’ about this Rank S in which the other is trying to rush him back to Umbrella like this. He makes a point to step closer to Mark, only a mere few inches away as if he’s showing physically that he’s not going to listen to him. Not this time at least. “Tell me.”

Perceptive at the worst times, and stubborn as a mule. 

I was trying to show you some kindness. 

Mark sighed, looking off into the distance. Excess emotions made people weak and despite his best efforts he had managed to fall into the utter trap that was friendship. It didn’t matter if he cared to admit it or not, because everything was already shown clearly in his actions - if this was another person, Mark wouldn’t have hesitated because he had always been the type to make good use of any resources. Let’s be honest, when facing off against a rank S monster, Umbrella soldiers needed all the help they could get and Siwoo, as powerful as he was with fire, even if  emotionally distraught, could be useful in the battle. If not as a soldier, then at least as a distraction. 

“Fine, do what you want.” He gave Seol the keys and put himself in the passenger seat. “Like I said, rank S monster. A B-ranked team discovered it by accident while finishing off their own mission. Caught off guard and already exhausted from the previous battle, they are down to their last member and had to send the distress call.” Mark relayed the information, providing everything except for the team numbers because he really didn’t need Siwoo to lose his shit in this car before they even get to the battle field. “Headquarters pretty much asked everyone available and nearby to attend the rescue mission. Two rank As went already, and now we are going.” A part of Mark was worried that the battle would already be over by the time they got there and the monster would be long gone after killing everyone.

Fortunately, and unfortunately, he was wrong. 

They could smell the monster long before they arrived at the actual battle site. It was huge, green, slimey and looked like it crawled out of the sewage. No eyes, two giant mouths with forked tongues but no teeth on both sides. Two people were still alive from what Mark could tell, though both won’t be for long. One of them was on the ground, seemingly encapsulate in a green slime bubble and screaming as if he was on fire. Maybe the green slime was poisonous or acidic, he couldn’t tell for sure yet through the opaque surface. The other human, and sadly, the one Mark was hoping would not see, was on her way into the monster’s other mouth. 

“Focus on killing the monster first. Do not touch the green slime-” He stopped midsentence to dive out of a green slime ball attack. The monster spat multiple globs at once and they were all sizable. Though he moved relatively quickly, a tiny smudge of green still caught his sleeve. Definitely acidic and if it could eat through his specially crafted uniform, then on his skin...

tearingdiamonds​:

(...)

“you gave it to me, so it’s mine. you can’t give something you’ve already given away to someone else!” she protested, despite having brutally rejected the chocolate bar just moments before. “besides, who says that i didn’t need it? never heard of like….like what was it again? there was a saying that said something about people doing the opposite of what their hearts wanted. whatever, that’s it though.” she scowled at him, turning her head slightly to spare at glance at yoonjae, completely oblivious that she had almost ruined one of the braids that he had been plaiting. “also, why are you so nice to me? everyone thinks that you shouldn’t. even i know that you shouldn’t.” 

Did he say something wrong again? Yoonjae sighed inwardly. When it came to dealing with stubborn kids, he had never been able to choose the right words. 

Aeran’s sudden movement pulled loose a braid that was almost done and after some consideration, Yoonjae decided that he must begin again anew. He was a slow braider due to lack of experience and had no idea if Aeran had enough patience to sit through another ten minutes of his clumsy finger work. Regardless, Yoonjae was the type that wanted to complete any tasks given to him to the best of his ability. Though lives weren’t weighing upon the presentation of this kid’s braids, his stickler nature persisted. 

“Who said I shouldn’t be nice to you?” He frowned slightly. Hopefully nobody was saying unnecessary things to Aeran behind his back. This girl had already suffered enough and should not have more added to her plate. “I doubt anyone thinks that way, Aeran.” Perhaps it was the girl’s own sensitivity talking. 

Silence hung about the air for a moment, and Yoonjae knew this kid was still wanting her answer. He must not make the mistake of saying the wrong thing again, or else this hair fixing session would never end. “Well,” he started, stalling for more time as his brain scrambled for something appropriate. 

The first reason that came to mind had to do with the word ‘guilt’ and he knew touching on that would not please Aeran. She would associate ‘guilt’ with ‘pity’ and her pride would not allow her to accept such kindness. So while it was true, Yoonjae must not say because you don’t have anybody else left to take care of you, and that’s my fault. 

“I just want to.” There, not a perfect reason, but one that couldn’t be easily argued against. After all, nobody could really claim to understand what another was thinking or wanting. “Does my attention bother you?” He asked, speeding up just in case she was about to give him a snarky answer accompanied by more unpredictable movements. 

There, done. 

Okay, don’t panic. 

Do not panic.

But what else was he supposed to do under these current circumstances? 

Nathaniel Fung considered himself a boring individual who fit the Hollywood Asian stereotype to a tee. He was an only child with tiger parents and an A was only acceptable if it was over 95% or if nobody else got better marks than he did. He didn’t drink, didn’t smoke and wasn’t even allowed to date officially until he was in the second year of University. When Linda heard that she was an ‘unofficial’ girlfriend for the past three years of their relationship, she really let him have it. 

“Let’s just both stay calm, yeah?” Nate’s words were more for himself than the other male, who seemed oddly fine despite having his house broken into approximately thirty minutes ago and getting tied up in a chair about ten minutes after (which Nate managed to do surprisingly well though he was in a state of distress the entire time). In fact, this guy was so unbothered that Nate was beginning to wonder if this was a norm for him. Maybe this isolated looking area actually had raging high crime rates with lots of home invasions. “Okay...okay...” What to do now? The news playing in the background was grating on his nerves, so Nate found the tv remote and took care of that first. 

“That wasn’t me on the news,” he said, raking back his sweat drenched bangs. “I mean it was me. My face, my name and everything, but I didn’t do any of the things they accused me of!” He gestured down his body. “I mean, look at me, do I even look like I could be a crazed axe murderer?” The brief description they included about the victims and the crime scenes were very disturbing. As a man who couldn’t even bring himself to pull the trigger on a wild turkey, Nate doubted dismembering an actual human being would ever be something on his agenda. 

Unfortunately, the guy didn’t seem convinced. 

Well, Nate supposed they weren’t really meeting at his best. Earlier when he looked in the mirror, his hair was a mess and the dark circles under his eyes suggested he hadn’t slept properly in quite some time. The outfit the cops put him in wasn’t the most comfortable and he was half way changed when he was spotted by the homeowner. Bloodshot eyes, shaky hands and topless, maybe he did look a bit like an insane person. 

Sometimes people forgot that they were still humans. 

Nights of awareness, days of unrest. Soaked in their own tears and sweat, shirts wet from splashes of the enemies’ blood. Hearts raced, strained and for some, permanently stopped. 

Sometimes, Mark too would forget. The battle had a way of draining him, and with each passing day he felt his humanity slipping. One wrong step and he would end up in the hole of no return, and force his comrades to taint their conscience by ending his life. 

His eyes scanned over the field, taking in the casualties of the day. The battle was done, but the price paid was great. Three out of his squad of seven survived, and that wasn’t even the worst fight he had this week. A long hot shower would be greatly appreciated right about now, but the urgency of the voice speaking into his ear piece cannot be ignored. 

“Rescue mission.” Mark relayed the info to his surviving teammates - as the leader, he was the only one getting the direct contact from head quarters. “Rank S.” They were fighting impossible battles against unworldly creatures, and too often an entire team’s sacrifice would not be enough to bring the monster down. Whenever this happened, the last surviving squad member should report the situation and request for backup, then try to survive until the help arrived. “Which squad?” His eyes narrowed as he listened more closely. Unfortunately, the number provided was a familiar one. 

“Seol, with me. We are taking your car.” Two vehicles were needed for a group of seven. Now, they should all have plenty of leg room. “Siwoo, you can go back to Umbrella first.” Mark fished the other set of car keys from his pocket and tossed it to the other male. “Go have a bath. We’ll be back before dinner time.” His voice was gentle, so much so that it was almost unlike him. 

114 was the squad number he was given and Mark knew it well because Siwoo’s sister was on that team. He didn’t understand why that group would be assigned a rank S mission considering their experience level, but that didn’t matter anymore. Judging by the urgency in the operator’s voice, 114 was likely down to its last member. 

“Just fuck him.”

Daehyung rubbed at the back of his neck, wondering for the fourteen hundredth time as to why he had agreed to be in this company in the first place. Let’s face it, Daehyung didn’t belong in Legacy - if he really wanted to entertain, he could find a better place six streets down, on a pole after some hours of heavy drinking. 

He would make one hell of a sexy stripper, damn it. 

What? You are wondering who Daehyung’s talking to? Ah yes, of course, it’s dear little Arin. Or as he had nicknamed her, la prudish girl scout. Baby girl was having some sort of boy trouble and Daehyung figured he should help her out. After all, he also had plenty of boy troubles in the past and fixed every single one of them without any difficulties. 

But then again, considering how different they were in terms of personality, perhaps his methods wouldn’t work well for Arin. She always got like, emotionally involved and stuff, which was something he never had to worry about. For Daehyung, relationships were about what happened below the belt - both the heart and the mind didn’t need to be involved. 

“Seriously, that’s my advice. Just. Fuck. Him.” He dabbed at the sweat on his forehead with a towel that he really should have not have taken out of the laundry basket this morning. “If you are not ready for that, just put his-” One of the trainees shouted something in the background, effectively censoring a certain someone’s crude language as per fate’s benevolence. “...In your mouth.” He finished his sentence anyway. 

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