lofikids

[lofikids]

self para, mika song. starting her career as a burlesque dancer, mika song quickly took off in popularity under the stage name “songbird.” her gentle & subtle movements amoured the crowd as she brought them into her romantic outlook of the world. thousands would kill to see the thoughts behind her pretty face as she would sway across the stage.

hunger lingers in their gaze ; adrenaline carrying her frame through the neon spotlights that cast shadows upon her muse below. the excitement his character brings her revolts her ; the sheer admiration & lust for her carefully choreographed movements drove her insane. degraded to an empty shell of nothing but beauty and desire, taught the importance of a visual would win you diamonds and gold - it deeply excited her. 

drenched in decorated silver, the lavish garment that warmed to her body like a familiar hug, it brought the attention of many - it seemed that every single head turned par her own. their adoration that kindled her sweet deception, there was no malice - it was simply survival. music carried her, working against her in every way. her brain on autopilot, her heart - filled with nothing but hate. hate. hate. a place she could not reach, she could no longer feel. distorted imagery creating a reality deep within her she could call home - somewhere safe and loving she could place herself when her gloomy heart began to heal.

“mika” she called it. this thing, this attempt, this person. she loved attention, she loved validation - her dancing, her presence, her character. the artist installation she stood by and watched as passers by gave their praise, of course it was fickle, the feeling stayed for a moment - it wouldn’t stay with her. the validation she would seek ongoing; “nothing is permanent.” is what she would call it. including herself. mika song would only last until she found something that suited her better, maybe the name would remain, but the origins would always twist and change.

so beneath her he sat. with each note, each exchange of currency- the facade would drip a little more, the bloody tangled mess slowly being revealed. he wanted to know her, they all want to know who she is. why she is. the disconnect from reality they all craved, maybe they envied her. little miss perfect who had the world at her finger tips, seemingly without revealing nothing at all. her soul as sweet as blood red jam, her sophistication, she understands them. the way her body moves, the way she gives them every little thing they want but nothing at all. her illusion - it fuels her. she loves it. mika loves it. 

the fearful little girl who sat deep inside her prison, she would cry ; it’s almost silent, drowned out by laughter & song. sat within her was a desperation, something that couldn’t be fulfilled by kind words spoken by older or fickle admiration, something yearned to be heard, not just known. a void not spoken of as it sat far from the notion of money or glory. the embrace she wanted vs the embrace she needed - a hug for alys. a kiss for alys. a gentle hand reminding her that even at the worst of times, it was okay to not be mika. it was okay to be more than body & song. it was okay to feel. the emotions are scary ; like laughter in a woodland deep into the night. but the tender embrace of her inner child was second to the ignorance and high.

so she continues, the routine drawing to a close as the audience applauds. eyes that sparkle but carry nothing but dejection finish their fantasy with a wink. as the curtain draws close, she smiles to herself. we did well.

#. mika #. self para #i cant write her death #so heres alys finding mika #i didnt proof read so

[lofikids]

HeeJin in “Queen’s Checkmate!” (2022)

#✧ ˚⁀ ii┊mika #good lord

[lofikids]

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ in   a   hawk   like   manor,   darkened   optics   wander   over   the   elder’s   motion,   her   nonchalant   expression   giving   up   not   a   single   clue.   yon’s   digits   dig   into   knees   that   sat   before   her   frame,   clasped   up   comfortably   against   her   chest.   there’s   a   comfortable   pause,   (   which   is   rare.   normally   silence   is   to   be   filled   with   an   unnecessarily   snarky   comment   from   the   dame’s   end.   )   the   couch   sinks   beside   the   female,   her   gaze   following   the   process   every   step   of   the   way.   it   lingers,   she’s   contemplative.   careful,   gentle.   a   hand   reaches   toward   nox,   who   was   seemingly   buried   in   his   phone   by   this   point.   she   leaves   it   there   for   a   second   before   pulling   it   back   into   the   safety   &   comfort   of   her   lap.   the   tranquility   remains,   only   to   be   disturbed   momentarily   by   a   curious   shuffle   of   clothing   against   leather   ;   and‍   there’s‍   yon,   crawling   from   her   sunken   spot   on   the   sofa,   leaving   no   room   between   the   two,   her   shoulder   bumping   against   his   as   her   wandering   eyes   find   whatever   piece   of   media   was   occupying   his   screen.   her    knees   drop,   hands   resting   upon   them   as   she   muttered   “   what   are   you   watching   ?   “

starter 4 @2clouds

#✧ ˚⁀ iv┊yonnie #✧ ˚⁀ ii┊starters #2clouds #hiiiiii

[lofikids]

celebritz​:

            grayscale   water   turns   to   snow            ,            ice   froths   in   the   river   as   sky   turns   hard   as   shinning   stone   pale   sun   should   be   making   her   shiver.   but   since   her   heartbeat   turned   to   sparking   wires         &.         whirring   fans   its   been   so   bitter.         ❝      i   always   want   winter   to   go   but   wish   for   it   when   summer   comes         ❞         flakes   fall   from   the   ashen   sky         ,         flame   turns   to   a   cinder   just   like   how   her   last   mania   stole   their   last   high         &.         their   fingers   have   cyan         &.         copper   in   their   tips.   

╰   ––––––– ✧ STARTER      :   @lofikids​

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ hot   air   fell   shakily   from   the   female’s   lips.   her   fingers,   (   torn   apart   by   the   glacial   downcast   that   penetrated   pale   undertones   with   its   harsh   caress.   )   she   tucks   them   neatly   into   her   tattered   patchwork   pockets   as   optics   warm   up   to   the   female   opposite.   sierra   sighs,   “   that’s   the   case   for   a   lot   of   things,   at   least   i   think   so.   we   don’t   realise   how   badly   you   miss   something   until   it’s   gone.   human   nature.   “                   

#✧ ˚⁀ iv┊sierra #celebritz #SORRY THIS TOOK #a year #or 8 #im redecorating slowly :)

[lofikids]

breaching sanity. final chapter. alys aderyn.

tw: trauma, religion, horror, gore

with the pursuit of freedom, i found you. lost in translation ; the flight you promised me through demands you must execute. gasoline seeps through my fingers, wiping clean any crimson but leaving behind a horrible horrible smell. a type of scent which lingers in the back of your throat, choking any air that attempts to leave my lungs. any tears i create he collects, through darkened clouds that fill the sky my emotions trickle down once more, feeding the ever growing emerald surface i built as a child. the heat that burns up ahead, the amber glow that drowns screams of many familiar with its warmth. i stare into the open flame, something in it has a power, i could barely tear my gaze away. i travel through the heat, its burning me. it hurts. i’m not stopping. on my back there's a weight. i can’t look back, the overwhelming pressure that settles between my shoulders is nothing short of foreboding, its deep, heavy breathing cascading down my neck as my body sways. 

we’re searching, home has been found. but i am not stopping. the trial of fire with burn before you bury me. legs shake as i topple onto the dirt path below, the flames growing around me. vision fades between a bright glow & the comfort of darkness- but i can’t give in now. my fingers grip onto the burnt blades of grass below me, im pushing myself onto my elbows, crimson falls from an unknown part of my body, i watch as it seeps into the ground below, the earth swallowing it instantly. soon after, a flower blooms- a lily. i allow my blurry gaze to wander, down from the heavens more crimson fell, evaporating as it hit the fiery orange glow that surrounded me- more flowers began to bloom - only standing for a moment before the flames consume them. i’m scared. my eyes find a rose that is seconds from being swallowed by the fire, i lunge toward with, reaching into my soul to find any ounce of strength - but i was too late. the petals light up and with it there’s a deep crack within me. i scream. i’m scared. the pain begins inward and travels toward the surface. as with the death of a flower - comes an unbearable pain within me. 

the weight is back, i fall to my knees, dragging my lifeless body through the mud & flames- trying so hard to shake off this feeling. the heaviness, the dread, the weight. the further i travel the more it consumes me, burying me beneath the red hot surface below. although, no mark on my body. the trees that surround me are crying, i pause, i hear them. i listen. i tell them, i say, “i hear you.” i scream. the trees follow. in unison we are crying, wailing, we recognize each others pain.

i am listening.

i pause. a single trickle of red drips down from my eye, falling into my parted tiers. something clicked. everything feels so far away. the deafening screams around me felt silent, i knew they were there, but something far more important was at hand right now. the weight. it had disappeared, i’m cold. i’m shaking. why is it so cold. i watch as the fire continues to burn around me. why am i so cold? the feeling of dread that sat atop of me had diminished, i felt new. above me flew a bird, way above the burning woodland, it seemed so peaceful, i watched it. a small smile curving my lips. 

i wanted you to show me freedom, that pure enigmatic energy of everything holy you promised us.

#. mika #. self para #. mikaisms #HELP #this is so exciting #sacrifice next #i mean its sad but

[lofikids]

oh ew why is tumblr ugly now

[lofikids]

soulpunkd​:

@lofikids |  💐

naomi puckers her lips as she leans over the railing of the riverwalk, looking across the water at the other bank. it’s nice out here, at this time of night. all the tourists are gone and it’s just her and the water. well- tonight it’s her and a friend, who she looks at with a grin on her face. “ do you think you could make it if you jumped across the river ? ”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ with the way her eyes light up, it seems mika was already pondering on naomi’s question, before she’d even had a chance to say it. matching her grin, her energy, her stance- the brunette lets out a soft chuckle, “ yeah. obviously !! with legs like these ... ” a quick pause to showcase the non-existent muscles in her arms, even though yes, she was bragging about her legs, “ but the question is, could you ? could you land FURTHER than me ?? ”

#. ic mika #. replies #hi there :) <3 #soulpunkd

[lofikids]

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃  &  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄    (a  series  of  nonverbal  prompts .   mature  themes  present ,   ‘ my ’  muse  belongs  to  the  one who  posted  the  meme  -  send   “ + REVERSE ”   to  reverse  the  prompts .)

→     𝐈 .    GENERAL

❛   hush .   raise  a  finger  in  a  gesture  to  silence  my  muse . ❛   sit .   gesture  for  my  muse  to  sit  down . ❛   door .   hold  a  door  open  for  my  muse . ❛   tap .   tap  my  muse  on  the  shoulder  to  garner  their  attention . ❛   hunger .   give  my  muse  something  to  eat  /  drink . ❛   cook .   present  my  muse  with  home - cooked  food . ❛   brush .   work  a  brush  /  comb  through  my  muse’s  hair . ❛   read .   silently  read  a  book  alongside  my  muse . ❛   hand .   hold  out  a  hand  for  my  muse  to  take . ❛   dressed .   help  my  muse  put  on  an  article  of  clothing . ❛   note .   give  my  muse  a  note  saying :   [ content ] . ❛   amplify .   turn  up  the  music  in  the  car .

→     𝐈𝐈 .    ANGST

❛   patch .   help  my  muse  patch  up  a  wound . ❛   night terrors .   hold  my  muse  after  they  wake  up  from  a  nightmare . ❛   company .   silently  sit  with  my  muse  to  comfort  them. ❛   hospital .   my  muse  is  told  that  yours  is  in  the  hospital . ❛   revelation .   show  my  muse  evidence  of  a  lie  they  told . ❛   indulge .   find  my  muse  drinking  to  cope . ❛   downfall .   find  my  muse  collapsed  on  the  ground . ❛   console .   comfort  my  muse  as  they  cry . ❛   nurse .   give  my  muse  company  in  the  hospital .

→     𝐈𝐈 .    AFFECTIONATE

❛   wink .   wink  at  my  muse .  ❛   wrap .   wrap  an  arm  around  my  muse’s  [ shoulders  /  waist ] . ❛   caress .   gently  caress  my  muse’s  face . ❛   tousle .   mess  playfully  with  my  muse’s  hair . ❛   chest .   place  your  head  on  my  muse’s  chest .    ❛   comb .   comb  fingers  through  my  muse’s  hair . ❛   grasp .   run  to  my  muse  &  jump  into  their  arms . ❛   lean .   lean  on  my  muse’s  shoulder . ❛   tender .   kiss  my  muse  on  the  [ forehead  /  cheek  /  nose ] . ❛   abrupt .   kiss  my  muse  out  of  the  blue . ❛   chaste .   chastely  kiss  my  muse . ❛   good morning .   kiss  my  muse  the  morning  after . ❛   volumes .   gaze  at  my  muse  in  a  way  that  silently  says  ‘i love you’ .

→     𝐈𝐈𝐈 .    VIOLENT

❛   strike .   [ slap / punch ]  my muse in the face . ❛   gun .   wield  a  gun  at  my  muse . ❛   twist .   twist  my  muse’s  arm  behind  their  back . ❛   throttle .   aggressively  wrap  your  hands  around  my  muse’s  throat . ❛   parch .   burn  my  muse  with  a  hot  object . ❛   take down .   forcefully  bring  my  muse  to  the  ground . ❛   gouge .   wield  a  sharp  object  at  my  muse . ❛  shunt .   shove  my  muse  backwards . ❛  stickup .   yell  at  my  muse  to  put  their  hands  in  the  air. ❛  shoot .   [ fatally  /  non-fatally ]   shoot  my  muse . ❛  stab .   stab  my  muse with a  [ knife / other object ].

→     𝐈𝐕 .    NSFW

❛   surprise .   send  an  unexpected  nsfw  image  to  my  muse . ❛   pin .   push  my  muse  against  a  [ wall,  table,  other ] . ❛   go down .   go  down  on  my  muse . ❛   choke .   intimately  wrap  your  hands  around  my  muse’s  throat . ❛   belt loops .   pull  my  muse  closer  by  their  belt loops . ❛   skinny dipping .   go  skinny  dipping  with  my  muse . ❛   rip .   tear  a  piece  of  clothing  from  my  muse’s  body . ❛   mark .   leave  a  mark  on  my  muse’s  body  [ specify where ] .

#. memes #PLEASE #ples

[lofikids]

me: *is still alive* me: how

#. yon #. colt

[lofikids]

࣪𓂃 𓏲 ♡ : lost // self para

muse: chu minhyuk (jojo) @speediiboii trigger warnings: murder, abuse, cult, religion, death, trauma other muses mentioned: mika (@lofikids)

A new religion, a new devotion…

From the day he laid his eyes upon her again, Minhyuk had a fascination with her entire being, something about her drew him towards her. They thought it was a connection, romanced about being soulmates, but as young and naïve the two had been at that moment, it was something indescribable, an urge to devote his entire life to her being. It didn’t take long for them both to discover they grew up under the same circumstances, and as the flame started to fade, his obsession with her grew, everyone knew. For years now he had pretended to be okay with no longer being beside her like he used to, losing the grasp and hold he had on her. It tore him apart, made him spiral.

He had been repressing everything painful, not being able to go on, even his creative side taking a toll and including monstrous imagery to describe how he was feeling— dancing with a skeleton, empty of a vessel.

Jojo was, once again, by her side. Supporting her, watching over her, being the person, the one she could lean on for support. It made him feel at ease, at home, like everything would be okay. Regardless the situation they would find themselves in, at least that is what he thought.

She changed, she’s not the same…

Seeing the fear emit from the elder who was sat in front of the two, for the first time in his life and in his relationship with the girl, it made a feeling of doubt rise in his chest. His throat grew dry at the sight of her causing the stranger pain. As a result, he tried to clear his voice to get her attention, but it didn’t work. She spoke in mothers’ tongue; he had lost her.

She’s gone

In comparison to her, Jojo was growing more anxious the more he watched her. After listening to the man cry, and genuine fear rose for the girl he once knew.

“‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ enough, ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ” ‍he spoke up, seeing as she had drifted off, leaving just himself and the older male alone, the air and energy heavy, draining. The blood was overwhelming, the sounds of his cries painful to Jojo due to the fact she was the one who caused it to happen. Looking into her eyes for the brief second that their eyes met, he saw a hint of realization and he knew that no matter how much he tried to be strong for her, to approve of her current actions, his pain was just as visible to her. But it still hurt him to see her cry, a lot more than it hurt him to know who she was spiralling to become. “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ why are we doing this? ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ” ‍

Minhyuk was possibly one of the first to arguably devote his life to her and contribute into shaping her into who the girl in front of him now was. She scared him, terribly. But it was his fault? He can’t say anything. Part of him likes it too, makes him feel home, complete. A product of his unhealthy emotional guidance, following the roots of what he grew up. She was the daughter of his family’s guide after all.

But she’s not the girl she once was, whom he had fallen in love with, who he travelled with.

He had to collect himself before properly processing what was happening. Her touch, her comfort, reassure, the pain was even more visible to her now. It’s not like he had not been in a similar situation or seen her do it before. Sacrifice, pain, sins—it had been surrounding him his entire life. He shouldn’t have spoken back to her, he should have kept his mouth shut, he didn’t want to lose her again.

But part of him wanted it all to stop, made him want to go back home. The power and devotion him and Mika got from staying there was only worth it if she was happy. They could do anything, and still be praised, loved, prayed to? But not like this, all the repressed memories of pain and trauma. He had no one besides her, but this cannot be what he can call home.

She’s not his Alys anymore.

#. jojo & mika #UMMMMMNMM #PAIN?????? #those are my fuckin babies #all hail father mika ig #. saved

[lofikids]

              its been 2 weeks since the disappearance of mika song. today on social media her family have made a plea to the public for any information on their daughter’s whereabouts. she was last seen with her friend known to the public as  “JO2.”

in the trail of fire i know we will be free again, in the end we will be one. in the trail of fire ill burn before you bury me, set your sights for the sun.

tw: religious topic, religious trauma, gore?, this ones fucked up ok, also its quite long

she drags the red lipstick carelessly, it somehow falls perfectly. the bright tones drawing attention from the darkened haze that lingered in her lifeless optics that sat dormant on the male 2 feet in front of her. a floorboard creaks beneath them, the sound bouncing off of the decrepit oak walls that cornered the two off from the rest of the world, it alarms him. his fear is made evident with a quite tremble. mika loves it. 

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ blessed be. mae jesus yn dy garu di.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍translation: jesus loves you. she watched as the realisation sets in, oh how she revelled in the dismay.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ don’t be frightened. remember, nothing shall disturb your slumber. nothing shall bring you harm, uncle. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍mike raised a hand, bringing it down harshly to collide with his bloodied cheek. there’s a rush. a feeling. it’s strange. it’s powerful. she loves it. mika loves it. any anxiety that might of sat with her from her flight between seoul and wales had left as that glorious sensation sparked through her veins. this was the right thing to do. her blood lips curve into a smile. her hand comes down again. and again. and again. he’s crying. she’s not stopping.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍  ‍ ‍“‍  ‍ ‍ my child.  ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ she repeats this phrase to him. he’s 45. she doesn’t care. she wants them to experience that she felt. the blessings their god had given her, all those years ago. it’s her turn to deliver the message. through the cracked glass she spots a female, staring unconsciously into the fire that burned in the centre of their little village. her eyes seemed longing, pained. lost. uncertain. she’s muttering something silently to herself, mika can’t quite figure it out. her mother tongue was lost along with the suffering and hatred her brain locked deep away. as the brunette stared at this young girl, there was a tight feeling growing in her chest. with each blink her face got more and more fuzzy. was she starting to cry? why? prying away her vision for a moment to collect her thoughts mika fought the urge to look again. it was too strong. tearful eyes wander back and the girl is staring her way now. except, it wasn’t “a young girl” it was her. mika song. exactly how she stood that night. the night before everything changed. a voice snaps her out of her own head, it’s jojo. her anxiety melts away and she almost immediately wipes away her tears. they have a job to do. her feet stumble as she takes a step back from the male in the chair and adjusts her collar. her hand gestures toward the door and she shoo’s him off with a warm smile. 

jojo questions her, mika responds simply with, ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ he needed to be punished. he was breaking rules. it wouldn’t like that, you know it wouldn’t. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍she repeats a couple more phrases in welsh before brushing past him to the front door. mike watched as the male scrambled back to his hut across town. the stars above them judged silently as their light kept the night sky alive. everything was ever-changing, nothing ever stayed. but the stars, the sky, they’d seen it all. they knew what she’d been through - what her and jojo had been through. their judgement was beautiful, it was wanted, it was desired. it’d always be there, their emotions may change, their thoughts may repress. but stars don’t forget - not until death. mika didn’t fear death, not anymore. her father always taught her that death is the most beautiful part of life, that to fear death, is to love. fear is the most important emotion, it brings awareness. when you’re afraid it forces you to be completely aware of your surroundings, it makes you truly present. when you’re truly present thats nirvana. that’s pure love. death is pure love. nothing shall disturb your slumber, nothing shall do you harm. mika’s soft hands, drowned in a dark red find jojo’s cheek, her thumb reassuringly rests on the surface, gently caressing it - returning for him that same melt of anxiety he’d awarded her with earlier. her gaze dances between the sky and his eyes, he’s never changing. her friend, through everything. his stare, it was sad. cold. it might be hard for another to see that, he hid it well. but mika saw it. the agony these people caused him,  it doesn’t leave you. like the stars. 

their home, as broken and as fucked up as it was built up to be. was gone. it was gone forever. so why must the memories linger so? why the longing for a home of the past? why does she want to build something so desperately. is it the hiraeth that’s haunted her? is it the desire to prove something to her father who ran this cult before her? is it to give somewhere jojo can feel safe? to give levi somewhere to feel safe? is it to fulfil her own selfish hunger to inflict her her sorrow onto others?

mika’s loving eyes aren’t the same. there’s something bigger behind them, something dark. sinister. it’s a leading emotion, it’s hard to read but she isn’t the same. this place, it’s changing her. the air, the memories, the people, the leadership, god. her new relationship with him. it’s all building on her already fucked up state completely trapping her in a nonsensical way of thinking. but it’s for the greater good. she knows that. jojo knows that. as fucked up as this mentality is, she has people to care for. a purpose. a home. a chance to make things right. to fix things. to fix the mess she caused all those years ago. 

#this is only PART 1 #. mika & jojo #. clych hollalluog #. mika #. self para #i didnt proof read #i dont have a levi tag

[lofikids]

🤨🕺

#. landry #. visage

[lofikids]

Screaming

#. smile #. casey

[lofikids]

3:30am / 211221 

full moon. palm tree. cigarette. hotel lobby. we are your dream. famous monsters. make no mistake. we never wake. we are your dream. we never die. marble mansion. private party. manicured lawn to house strange blood. dry, alone. cruising the hills. meet you in the cemetery. we love dancing. and violence. beneath the dirt. below earth. we are your dream.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ what is wrong with me?  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍fingers entangled in jet locks as she pulls and pulls attempting to soothe that building stress within her. she’d hurt somebody again, hurt them badly. it’s different this time though. her back slides down the bathroom wall, staring at the lifeless body that sat beneath her, his familiar face. his warm smile. his loving eyes. gone. stripped of any animation within them. she didn’t cry, theres no blood on her hands. no evidence to hide. all that remained on her person, was guilt. guilt for being. guilt for existing as she was meant to exist. imagine that, being swallowed by your own purpose. being manipulated to believe something completely new and estranged for it to be instantly ripped away, no sedation. the pull away is painful, its bloody, its tearing. yon lost everything in the blink of an eye. her lover, her guidance, her new way of living. her light. turned off, lost. she’s uncertain, afraid, unsure of the next step. because he would make it for her. what is she to do now? go back to before? she doesn’t think she can.

she’s crying now. that’s not something she’s designed to do. yon’s almost choking trying to slow them down, push them back in, resort to anything that isn’t this. this is weak. this is showing that she isn’t who she once was. she always knew how to emote, how to fabricate emotions and how to manipulate them to her benefit. never to let them fall for another. maybe its for herself, it’s not only her love she lost today. she lost apart of herself. but i suppose, it’s been lost for a while now. maybe it’s finally coming back? maybe they’re happy tears. her emotions are confused. yon’s smiling now, trying so hard to fight it back, it’s turning into laughter. she’s free. but she’s sad? is she? what does it mean to be free? is this pain all a part of it? will it get easier? maybe with time. 

optics fall back onto the body once again and her smile falters. the tears and cries get a little louder. her vision gets a little blurry and the dames began to visualise a woman stood before her. its her. yon felt no anger toward her. or maybe she did. right now she wasn’t sure. the image of the woman is kissing the man who lay on the floor. they’re kissing. they’re loving. she’s taking him away from her. he’s betrayed her. he’s hurt her. he’s made her feel small, embarrassed, tricked. deceived. the one person who has promised her different, promised he would never do that to her. what’s the one thing she’s always done to people who deceive her? yes he taught her different. but, he lied. he’s a liar. yon’s sobbing now. the grip on her hair tightening as she buries her face, attempting to shroud her vision with darkness, completely block out the image that is circling around in her brain. 

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ i’m scared.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍she showed herself to him. physically, emotionally, spiritually. she allowed him in, she let him stay. but he threw all of that way. in the trash. exactly where yon wishes she was right now. and for why? he had it coming to him? he had it coming to him. the blanche would repeat this phrase in her head a couple of times as the laughter started to rise again. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ you did this to yourself. you. you asked for this. you knew what you were getting yourself into.  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”  ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍yon is talking directly to the body on the floor, addressing him from top to bottom, focusing in on the wound inflicted by an accidental blow to the head. there was a little water on the floor. of course, it’s to yon’s hand he’s unlucky. he’s had the worst week of his life. it would of progressed onto the worst year of his life if he’d survived this fall. 

but through it all. yon didn’t mean for this to happen. she’d never had this guilt, never knowing that she’d hurt somebody this badly before. this being the first human she’d ever got close to, the only person in her life she could barely consider family. who took her away from her woodland in france, to the suburban neon streets of korea. gave her opportunity. a chance at a new life. made her believe he was all she had. in a sense, this became true. whether he knew that or not. she had someone control her, control her life. she loved it. she felt wanted. she felt safe. she felt all these emotions yon hadn’t even believed in before meeting him. most importantly, he’d given her love. introduced her to what that word means. but she’d go along with it right? i mean, there’s no way she can go back home now. she’s living with him. him, his 3 other girlfriends who yon until recently, was unaware of. it’s a little cozy. the names he would call her. nobody ever gave her nicknames before. the dates, the meals. the amazing food. she shouldn’t eat it though. that’s what he said. she appreciated the advice. the i love you’s. not from him, but yon got to say it. before that, she’d never gotten the chance. it was so much fun and she’s forever grateful for it. 

but she’ll never let herself experience it again. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ 

#. self para #. yon #ah yes the beginning of the #not feeling anything #i didnt proof read #abuse tw

[lofikids]

@morphes

still running off of that uninterrupted high from performing, the female was uncertain if that shiver that washed her was from pure adrenaline or the sudden drop in temperature as she stepped out into the fresh air. yon surveys her surroundings before dropping vision down towards her phone.  

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ [ txt ]‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ where are you?

dry ass text - nothing different there. her gaze remains on the texts between them for a moment, scrolling up and chuckling to herself as she reads through their non-sensical conversations. but then she pauses. her brows furrowing as the thought pops into mind, why am i smiling at these messages. as quick as she could her digits scroll down to the more recent messages.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍[ txt ]  ‍ ‍ actually nvm don’t come.

as she clicks send, yon hears that familiar voice say her name. with a nod she greets the male, sliding her phone back into her pocket. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ hello. don’t read that last message i sent. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ” ‍ ‍ a pause, she tries a smile. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍what is the plan for tonight. ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”

#. ic yon #morphes #DO YOU USE ICONS #I CAN PUT ONE IN #I WASNT SURE #hope this is fine!

[lofikids]

ok. actual starter call <3

#ooc #tbd #hi #ummm #yes #also specify muse or ur probably gonna get yon

[lofikids]

[ UNBUTTON ] idk ... jinx and yon?

sexual tension prompts! <3

[ UNBUTTON ] : due to heat or stress or other reasons, sender unbuttons the top of their shirt to reveal their neckline.

shameless - although expression does not shift from her regular, dead-pan, disinterested one, her gaze definitely - and noticeably, dances down from jinx’s face, to their neck. it remains there, she’s deep in thought - a question pops up in her head. it’s probably best if she doesn’t ask it, however - yon isn’t one to stop herself. in any situation. 

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ did you do that on purpose?‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ” ‍ ‍ spoken nonchalantly, she pauses before continuing, ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ “‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ your shirt. did you do it to look cool? it didn’t work.‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ‍ ”

#. answered #. yon ic #10 years late and u get 2 lines #love u