Raunchy Rituals {Jiyong&Emilia}

The room was dark and there was only one person in there, a professor Emilia had not spoken to yet. Which was hardly a surprise since the Ixtab kept her distance from most professors. They were soaked in magic and it sickened her, but she was bored, horny and in a mood to stir things up. 

Her short skirt left little to the imagination. Black garter belt and overknees hardly to be excused as professional and her white blouse buttoned up but obviously not large enough for her chest. With a sigh she sat down next to the, for now, nameless professor. 

“I am so tired of grading papers of idiots.” She said as she sipped from a flask and then offered the (strong) alcoholic beverage to the other. 

To say Jiyong wasn’t in shock would be an understatement. He had been minding his own business after all, nose stuck in a very good read, when the sound of someone entering the small office room (that was hardly used by anyone) went unnoticed. It wasn’t unlike him to be caught unaware, but when a female voice he didn’t recognize echoed in the room, he was jumping in his seat, elbow slamming into the table as his eyes wildly made sense of what was going on. A noise between a whimper and a gasp fell from his lips, because damn it hurt to hit his elbow and also because what was this female wearing?

None of it could really be considered clothes, more so correct attire for an academy. “Grading papers?” The surprise was evident on the way his brows knitted together. “You mean, you are a professor?” It didn’t make sense, especially with her current attire. His eyes skimmed over the offered drink warily. “I don’t suppose that’s juice.” An awkward laugh fell from his lips, ended in a breathy exhale. God was he dreaming all of this? There was no way in hell someone would come to work dressed like that.

happy jiyong for nylon japan♡

5 Pink Balloons ~Jiyong & Shou

“Eh, that sounds like a messy process! Does it take a lot of blood to make a zombie?” The idea of spilling blood was rather unhygienic to the moon sprite and he couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be for the teacher to get out the bloodstains. “What sort of reasons do you usually raise zombies for?” As Shou learned more about necromancers, he began to understand why Jiyong was hesitant in stating his race. “Mm, it must be very tough for you, sensei. No one likes to be assumed for something they’re not.” Seeing the teacher smile made him smile as well, happy to know that there was another person that felt the same way he did when it came to something as subjective as religion. “I like being special! I wouldn’t mind meeting another moon sprite though since Luna deserves all the love in the galaxy! Plus it would be nice to have a brother or sister.” He was absolutely sure that there were others like him in the world; he just hasn’t meet them yet. “Are you sure you don’t want at least one, sensei? You can give it to the best student in your class as a reward!” Five balloons are four more balloons than what Shou needed anyways. If the necromancer declined, he was likely to save one balloon for himself and find random strangers to give the remaining four to. Because c’mon, who doesn’t like receiving balloons?

“Well it really depends on the age of the zombie. Older ones have less essence or perhaps spirit left in them. It rather had to explain, but I can just feel the age, somewhat like feeling a heartbeat by pressing your hand against your chest. The less essence a dead corpse has, the more blood or life force it takes to raise them, back and I am terribly sorry for rambling.” Jiyong felt his cheeks aching from the embarrassment making his lips pull tight in a gummy smile. It seemed Shou didn’t mind, seeing as his curiosity seemed to be focused. “Ah well, don’t we all have that moment when someone dies and you want answers? Well I can raise them and get those answers or you know, control them.” He wasn’t going to bring up the fact that the dead had been reanimated in the past to wage wars, for it definitely wasn’t a pretty sight. The necromancer would him pursing his lips at his words, feeling sorry that the other didn’t have someone he could confide in or even just relate to. It was something he was quite familiar with. “Well I hope someday you get to meet a moon sprite. I wonder if there are some lurking around Ciliz, you might want to check it out.” It was only a suggestion, but the space station city might have some occupying the area.  Jiyong eyed the balloons once again and with a huff, reached his hand out. “Just one, I don’t want to end up showing too much favoritism.” Except he probably was going to keep it for himself. He was after all, rather fond of the color pink.

Alteraltar|| Jiyong & Suwoong

“But you have such a good face for photo’s. It is all about the angle, you know? And an interesting story- now let me see. slightly grumpy, handsome but not too handsome because that scares the ladies and gentlemen off. And ah, something about your weird hobbies that are not too weird but weird enough to be interesting. Like- ah do you collect something like the ribcages of dead virgins?”

He blinked “Shit out of luck- now that is a weird way of looking at things. You are not worried at all even though you are a mortal? How strange, ah well in the end you might just end up like me, forever here. Ah yes, you could haunt with me, all the seven seas. We could be pirate-ghosts and then we go further than any ghost has ever been! I know of a pirate- he is in space right now being prodded and tested on but he seems happy. Maybe if he dies we can be a ghost pirate trio, now wouldn’t that be fun?”

Jiyong didn’t know if he should be offended or not by the poltergeist’s words. He knew he had a weird charm, but this seemed to almost hold a taunting tone and that he did not like at all. “No, I don’t collect ribcages of dead virgins that sounds like something you would do.” It disgusted him that the male would even accuse him of such a thing, but then again he did own quite a few weird things.

“Mmm I might be worried if I was mortal, but I’m not.” He wasn’t. Not with his reaper blood running through his veins as well, but then the male hadn’t known that and the necromancer had possibly slipped more than he was willing to admit. “Better yet, how about you go haunt someone else? I’m not going to die anytime soon, so there is really no reason for you to get your hopes up in me becoming some hipster wannabe pirate who, I don’t know makes living people walk an invisible plank into purgatory.”

A+ for effort [jin&jiyong]

At the dismissal of the class, Seokjin is quick to shoving his things back into his bag and standing from his seat– eager to just get out of here and escape the eyes of his professor. It was the kind of look his older brother would give him every time he half-assed his efforts in learning how to handle his powers. Much to his misfortune though, he freezes in a tensed manner when his professor called his name out, again.

Shit, here we go. Life was fun while it lasted. My corpse’s bangs still better be on point.

“Huh?” He remains standing in front of the older male, his thumbs fidgeting with the strap of his satchel. “Uh, well… I… maybe… you know… stuff… I think it’s because I want to… learn… things…?” He tries lamely before regretting his words immediately. But can you even blame him? The question was so out of the blue and he isn’t technically lying. Maybe he needs some polishing with how he phrase things properly but he’s certain Professor Jiyong got the message. Unless he’s decided to be a total jerk and continue to ask him questions just for the hell of it.

Honestly, it’d be nice if the older guy would get bored asking him questions and will stop calling him out during class but that almost seems like he’s hoping for too much.

Jiyong could practically feel the look of annoyance painting its way across his face. Of course, another mumbled answer. Seokjin was good at that, he should have already known what he was going to say before the words had even left his mouth. “Let me rephrase my question for you then, since it seemed to be too generalized.” Huffing a bit, he brought his fingers through his hair, tendrils falling back in place, if only a little messier looking. “In this class I try to help students understand. I teach hard concepts that really can’t be learned just on paper, but by participation in class.” He paused for dramatic effect, eyeing the student, because that seemed to be where he lacked quite a lot. “I don’t call on you to single you out, but because I’m trying to see what you know and what I need to cover better, because I promise you aren’t the only student having difficulties.”

He wasn’t. There were many students who ended up having to be tutored. “Now, at the rate you are going, I don’t think you are going to pass my class, so we need to fix that before it’s too late. What do you need me to do as a Professor to help you pass? One on one tutoring? I’d gladly help you set up your own altar if you need me to, since the assignment is due soon.”  Was he rambling? Yes, but who would blame him in this situation.

[Teapots] - Jiyong & Mark

Technically, he could probably have teleported, had he wanted to, but it was not a skill among his powers, and getting the necessary spell stones mostly seemed like too much of a hassle to go through with, especially when he could simply just walk in this case. Lips twitching slightly at the comment from the younger, he gave a small shrug again. “I would have waited outside, but since I’m enrolled here, I doubt you’d enjoy the possible rumours if someone had seen me.” Mark didn’t care much for the words of strangers, their opinions held little value to him and were only too easy to brush off, but not everyone were like him, and he knew the rules of the school. What he was less sure about however, was why he cared even the slightest of how the necromancer might view things, why he had acted in such a way to possibly prevent upsetting the male in the long run, and why he was letting him know this now. In his own mind, he brushed it off to his curiosity; he wanted to figure out this intrigue he had to the other’s blood, why he was so aware of it, and that would be easier if the younger male was not completely on the offensive towards him.

“It sounds rather…cute.” Shifting slightly in his seat, still unaccustomed to the feeling of the bean bag beneath him, he let his eyes take in the room a second time even as he listened to Jiyong’s movements. He wasn’t blind, nor was he oblivious, the other’s discomfort beneath his gaze had been clear as a day, and it would seem still as the skill of dropping things that were in his hands still resided in the necromancer when he was startled or had too much on his mind – it’d be a waste for him to break something ceramic, especially since Mark in the last few years actually had come to quite enjoy tea. Lips parting to answer the other, his full attention was turned again by the soft sound of his body connecting with the solid counter, his head tilting a fraction as he watched him with a knowing look in his eyes.

“Because it’s calling out to me,” again, the simple truth, despite his race and everything they represented, biblical or not, Mark was not fond of lying – it came easy, and he knew he was good at it, but he refrained most of the time, it was far too tiresome to keep up with who knew what, too many threads to try to keep from tangling together. “How long a period is ‘recently’ in this case?” What this would tell him he didn’t know, he had no explanation to any of this, his own intrigue, how he seemingly couldn’t make himself stay away – not that he was one to deny himself from the things that caught his interest – nor Jiyongs reactions. He wanted to know though. “I’d like some red tea, if you have it, otherwise anything is fine.“ If the necromancer was going to freak out, it did seem like a possible reaction, the man had been human before after all, and they tended to have reckless reactions, he’d rather he did that when already sitting down, away from boiling water.

 The idea that Mark would have waited outside his apartment made a chill run up his spine. No that was definitely off limits, because he did not want to have rumors stirring and that was not something he wanted to drag on his coat tails around the academy, hearing the shushed murmurs of students and professors alike. The necromancer was a private person when it came to acquaintances and anything about his past was something he would kill to keep quiet. Not that he assumed the demon had spoken to anyone about their past, but the idea alone was enough to make a gooseflesh sensation run along his arms. “You would be correct in that notion, I don’t like people knowing stuff about me that I haven’t approved.”  Licking his lips, he could only grimace at the comment. Cute. Really?

There was nothing cute about it. Okay, well it probably was strange to have bean bags when he was supposed to be professional, but the male hardly felt refined like some of the people at the academy. He was way too young for that. Yet, at the moment none of that mattered, because Jiyong was practically having a heart attack. How did Mark know so much about his blood and what did he mean it was calling to him? The notion that all this time, he could feel him made his head feel heavy. “What do you mean? My blood can’t possibly be doing that.” Even as he said that, he knew it was all too possible. Nothing seemed to go right with him. Ever since birth, the male had seemed to have a life destined to be shadowed with darkness with no light in sight. The kettle erupted next to him, making him snap out of the mindless thoughts, eyes blinking as he reached out to turn the burner off completely. Taking a deep breath, he turned and began the mechanical process of taking out the required necessities; two mugs. Jiyong could have been fancy and pulled out the blue china, but he thought the action might be lost on the demon all together. He pulled out a black tea for himself, placing it into his mug. “Well recently means it’s been happening oh a few months? Well it has become worse the last week or so and now seeing you here, I can only assume you have an answer for that?” Glancing over his shoulder, he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing the skin. It was a nervous habit and one he hadn’t been able to drop. Pouring the hot water in his own special mug (it had dinosaur footprints on it), he reached up into the cabinet to retrieve a red tea infused black tea. It was as close as it would get. “Well luckily enough for you, I have something of the sorts.” Plunking it into the other mug for Mark, he filled it also with hot water before starting the slightly shaky trek to the bean bags. Setting them both down on the small table, Jiyong found himself plopping into his own seat, legs crossing. “So since things have been all whacked for me, has the same happened to you or am I just the lucky one? I deserve a golden star if I have.”

[Teapots] - Jiyong & Mark

Judging from the tension slipping into the other’s muscles, making his shoulders and the tendons in his neck stiff, and the way he drew his bottom lip in between his teeth, he assumed that he was perhaps eyeing him a little bit too much like a piece of fresh game, although unintentional – the mute call of the reapers blood continuing to draw his attention, making his gaze even sharper than usual as he tried to figure out the explanation for it. He still didn’t understand fully how Jiyong had managed to summon him in the first place all those years back, although he had an inkling, and it didn’t matter too much, what was done was done after all, what perplexed him, however, was this connection – for lack of a better word – remaining between them still. It had been years.

He didn’t bother to voice a reason for his actions, considering it was something he thought the younger should already be aware of, and had he not connected the dots already, well, then perhaps it was time Mark gave him a push in the right direction. This close, with only the two of them, he could feel he blood rush to the other’s face before the blush seeped into his cheeks, painting them pink, just what had caused the reaction was not something he was brooding over. Even if demons were the creatures with the strongest emotions, no matter the irony in it, humans, even former ones, still seemed to be the ones the most fickle in them, the changes between moods rapid and almost unpredictable. “I picked the lock,” an honest response as his gaze followed the movement of the other’s fingers as they ran through his hair, carefully noting the man’s reactions to what he assumed was his own presence. “I prefer keeping private matters just such, and seeing how you probably would not be too willing to go somewhere with me right now, this was the only option,” shrugging lightly, he soon added with a small curl to the left corner of his lips, “Don’t worry though, I haven’t rummaged among your belongings.”

Dark eyes still curious, he watched the male move, from where he seemingly struggled to get his shoes off to where he came to a pause in the kitchen area; the snappy reply his question gained, making a small amused smile flash across his lips. If the necromancer’s irritation was caused by him or the younger’s own inner turmoil, Mark wasn’t too sure, nor did he comment on, and soon he was given a more thorough answer. Not the one he had wanted, but non the less. Giving a low hum of affirmation to the other’s words, he glanced in the direction he motioned towards before getting to his feet. Some would probably see it as surprising obedience. “Bean bag lair..” he mused under his breath, an amused tilt to his tone. Taking his gaze off the younger male fully for the first time since he had walked through the door, he eyed the bags on the floor, eyebrows furrowing lightly in consideration before he sat down in one of them, nose scrunching the faintest bit at the atypical noise – loud to his ears – as his weight settled on the odd piece of furniture. “I meant your blood, you know,” he murmured pointedly, still somewhat engrossed by the bean bag, although he had now come to sit comfortably with his legs crossed, feet beneath him; seemingly utterly at ease, “..when I asked how you felt.”

 So that’s how he had got in his apartment. It was extremely overwhelming to the point of being uncomfortable, but it could have indeed been worse. At least he had not just been able to pop into his room, but had to go through ways of actually breaking in. Jiyong could only imagine if he was able to just appear whenever he wanted to like the various intangible beings that existed. It made a shiver run through his lower back, the muscles twitching at the thought. “Well I guess that is one positive thing. Though breaking in to someone’s home is not a very nice thing to do.” Of course, but what did he really expect from a demon”? It’s not like they were necessarily hardwired with the same sets of morals that most human races were. Plus, he hardly thought Mark of all people really thought about other’s feelings in light of his own wants. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the male slip to his feet, before making his way towards the bean bags. Well he got one point for actually being thoughtful enough to do what he asked. Jiyong busied himself with taking his jacket off, hands slipping the overcoat off and laying it neatly across the top of the kitchen counter. Usually he would hang it up in his closet, but at the time, he didn’t quite feel like taking his eyes off the male. Something about his presence unnerved him. Maybe it was because the demon showed up out of the blue for no reason he could come up with and that did not bode well with him at all. It made his blood rush quicker, almost like it was overjoyed to have him around, but it wasn’t because he was enjoying his presence. No, it wanted him to use, to spill all that power out and shove it into the other.

“Yes bean bag lair, it sounds fitting for someone who likes to animate the dead by cutting off chicken heads or you know opening up their own vein to feed them.” His arms showed the proof of such things, lines upon lines of cut open scars, mottled in thick jagged lines. Jiyong had suffered many looks growing up for such things and he preferred to wear longer shirts to cover them in the human cities. Here at the academy, it didn’t seem so off putting since he could be quite open about what he did, but there were still those people that seemed to object to his ways. It’s not like he chose to be like this, for he would much rather spill a little blood here and there than suffer through the crazy itch that seemed to build inside him if he didn’t. The necromancer made his way into his kitchen, a kettle of water already filled as he turned on the burner. Tea was obviously needed and hopefully it would calm him down enough to deal with Mark. Taking two mugs out (he was polite after all), he heard the shifting of the bean bag and he didn’t have to look to know that the demon had taken a seat. “Do you want some tea? I tend to fancy it enough to carry most types.”

Finally he did turn around, the dangling piercings in his ear twinkling in the light as he looked at him for an answer, eyebrows raised in inclination. Yet, the next words out of his mouth had him reeling, leaning into the counter for support. It seemed just his words had made his blood boil and he could feel the rush of it. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been earlier, but it was enough to make his knees weak. “How did you know?” The more things continued to unravel, the more the necromancer didn’t like the appearance of Mark into his life. “My blood has been acting up, that’s one of the reasons I can’t sleep. Recently it seems that the more I use my powers, the harder it is to deny using them, I can barely go two or three days without giving in to the need.”

[Teapots] - Jiyong & Mark

It had, by human count, indeed been years since that day a far younger Jiyong had summoned him - an event that was still puzzling to him, it made little sense for a young reaper, a former human, to be able to call upon something like himself, and it had been the first and so far the last time he had been summoned - by the count of immortals however, it was not so long ago. The time had done the necromancer good though; letting his eyes run over the other male’s form, carefully taking note of any changes from when he had seen him last, a mere boy at the time, he bit back the appreciative hum wanting to make it’s way up his throat.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, he kept his gaze fixed on the necromancer as he studied his reaction, watching him recoil faintly, an eyebrow cocking at the question leaving the man’s lips. No matter how quiet the other’s words would have been, Mark would likely have caught them non the less, his senses had always been sharp, unnatural. Yet he didn’t respond right away, instead tilting his head to the side for a moment, as if gauging something only he was aware of, soon swinging his legs over the side of the bed to sit up, forearms coming to rest on his thighs. The deep chocolate of his eyes darkening as he stared at the other, gaze curious but no less intense. “Looking for you,“ came the delayed response, the demon’s gaze flicking up to meet Jiyong’s own only to to trail down the full length of his body.

He didn’t know what it was exactly, but from where he was seated he could clearly hear the beat of the other’s heart when focusing on the sound, what interested him though, was the feeling of the flow in the other creatures veins, on it’s own, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary - it was pumped through the reaper’s body like it would on any living being - yet still, it caused an unusual churning deep in his abdomen, like the blood was calling out of him. Quite a ridiculous idea, but there were weirder things out there. “How do you feel?“ His words were low as he spoke, eyes finally settling on the other’s face instead of his right wrist where they had been focused for a few moments.

Jiyong could practically feel Mark’s eyes trailing across his skin, which he definitely didn’t like. It wasn’t an appreciative gaze, but really when had he ever liked being looked over whether it was just in minor interest or something rather sexual in disguise? It made him gnaw on his bottom lip and the bag in his hand was uncurled from its tight grasp as he let it slide to the floor. No sleep was not going to come tonight and he could only groan inwardly at the thought of having to make it through more lessons sleep deprived. He watched the male slide from the bed into a sitting position on his bed, something that looked way too comfortable and intimate for a stranger to be doing on his bed of all things. They weren’t strangers per say, but the necromancer definitely wouldn’t consider them close either.

His words had his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Why would the demon be looking for him of all people? It wasn’t like they were friends playing on spending the day going over found past times. No, Jiyong as a teenager had made the wrong decision with messing around with his gifts and had accidentally summoned a demon. That’s how they had met, Jiyong a scrawny child with hair sticking up in tuffs and hands covered in his own blood. The imagery made his face burn and no doubt color would be splotching up his neck in his embarrassment. “Why would you come looking for me?” A shaky hand rose to smooth out the hair that had fallen in his face, his heart still thrumming in his ears loudly. Had to love adrenaline rushes that left you feeling like a leaf being blown in the wind. “How did you get into my apartment and next time just, I don’t know, come by my office, not where I live.” The necromancer didn’t really want to deal with him at all, but at least in public it wouldn’t be as intimate. Mark could have been here for hours, looking over his stuff and the thought made him feel almost wronged, but then again demons were not known for their kindness. “How do I feel?” A huff left his lips and he found himself finally pushing away from the wall. Jiyong worked his shoes off with more difficultly and it could all be blamed on the eyes that seemed to still be zeroed in on his body. Stupid demons. Picking up the dropped bag, he made his way near the kitchen table, keeping the demon in sight. “Just peachy.” It sounded more obnoxious than he meant it to and he mentally reprimanded himself, because he was acting like an insolent child. Rubbing a hand over his face, he tried again. “It’s been a long week. Things just keep going astray and my body has decided to revolt against me and not let me sleep most nights, so yes peachy.” Turning to face the male, he leaned his hip against the cool wood of the table. “So if you don’t mind can we take this conversation to the bean bag lair,” he motioned to the side, where four bean bags lined the floor and a small table that barely was higher than the floor covered in various vials of all shapes. “So I can make some tea and still hear you.” It was mostly to see him, but that wasn’t the point he wanted to make clear.

[Teapots] - Jiyong & Mark

Frankly, he had expected it to be a lot harder to get into the teacher’s dorms unnoticed, in fact he had even prepared an excuse for being there although it would seem it was quite unnecessary now. Glancing down the empty corridor, he grinned to himself, carefully shifting his the pin between his fingers. A soft ‘click‘ sounded, and he was able to push the door to 2J open quietly, slipping inside with another glance over his shoulder before letting it shut behind him, making sure to lock it again as well.

He knew he hadn’t been wrong - he was never wrong when it came to blood, and if anyone would stand out to him even among a crowd, it was Jiyong; the crimson liquid in the necromancer’s veins practically calling out to him. It had been like an itch under his skin since the moment he entered the academy grounds, only growing stronger as he wandered through the building, like an old wound trying to heal but being reopened again by clawing fingers, making the tender skin burn. Funny how a summoning could affect someone, especially someone like himself.

Glancing around the room, Mark couldn’t help the small smile that came to rest on his lips, had he not been certain before, he was now. Stepping across the room after kicking his shoes off by the door - he had manners, unlike some - the demon came to rest on his back on the bed, allowing his eyes to close, without the distraction of his sight, he could easily imagine the last bedroom he had been in which Jiyong had also called his, although much different from one another, they were bound together by the same thing. The smell. A faint scent that Mark knew only to be distinctly Jiyong.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed between his entrance and the sound of a key being pushed into the lock of the door, but he could feel the faint sensation of anticipation building in his abdomen as the handle moved, eyes opening, he rolled onto his side, dark eyes set on the door, not speaking a word until it closed behind the other man.

“You’re late, professor.“

Jiyong had been stuck running errands far longer than he wanted to be. It really was all his fault, being as mindless as he is, he had got off at the wrong bus stop the first time and had ended up in the middle of nowhere. He could blame it all on the novel he had picked up recently. It had to do with Rituals of the lord, focusing on primitive civilization during the prospering of the Tigris and Euphrates River being a mecca and metropolis. Extremely riveting information and thus he had not been aware when his stop had been passed until thirty minutes later. That did not spoil his mood though and jumping back on the bus, he fell back into the black printed words until he did get off on the right stop.

He had traveled a little ways to collect some rather hard to find ingredients for his personal possession. Wolfs bane was not something they kept on hand in Vighulir, strictly because of the stigma. It was quite silly to him, but the ingredient was needed nonetheless. After buying it and some vial jars (one never could have enough in his opinion), he made his way back to the academy grounds. The whole main reason he had made the trip was because he had been feeling weird lately. His blood seemed to boil with the need to use his gifts and sleepless nights filled with images of him shoving blood soaked hands into the fertile wet dirt had plagued him enough to want to try and do something about it. It probably wouldn’t work, seeing as though he went through fluctuations anyways with his powers needing to be drained, but he was at his wits end on how to solve this new addition. Hence the need to brew himself a strong tea. It should hopefully help him sleep through the night.

Except the minute he made it back to his apartment, he knew he would be doing nothing of the sorts. Upon arrival, he noticed that his blood seemed to be reacting quite strangely, almost feeling like an electric current was pulsing through his body and it made him lean against the wall as he nearly crumpled to the ground. “What is wrong with me?” Jiyong found himself half terrified at the possibility and reaching for the door handle, he used it to stand back up to his full height. Yet it clicked open. The necromancer never forgot to lock the door, so sucking in a deep breath, fear ate at his insides as his body went into overdrive. He could practically feel his heart leaping out of his chest as he finally stepped inside and the scene he saw made him blanch physically. The demon he had summoned so many years back was laying across his bed as if he owned the place. “What are you doing here?” It came out weak, but he currently felt that way as his blood seemed to cause the same electric flow through him once more.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside ❆ J+S

Such were her thoughts as she walked aimlessly around the grounds. If she had the ability to curl up under a mountain of blankets with a good book or a funny movie, she would. As it was, all of her favorite books were read and movies exhausted; she swore she could recite A Christmas Carol by heart. She grumbled and stuck her freezing nose beneath her red scarf while pulling on her hat, wishing it would properly cover her ears. At this point she was ready to forgo fashion entirely and invest in one of those aviator hats.

Too late did she notice what she was walking into, too busy pitying her near-empty wallet. She screamed as a snowball hit her square in the face, causing her to slip and fall on her butt. Immediately she felt the cold seep into her clothing and she hurried to stand once again, brushing the not-yet-melted snow from her legs. Her glare was murderous as she glanced around for the culprit.

Jiyong found himself sputtering when his snowball hit the female, her shrill scream seeming to echo in the space. Yet, not one seemed to notice, well those taking part in the fight were not paying attention, except for the snickering that followed at the fact she had indeed been pegged by his deadly aim. Before he could even apologize as he took tentative steps forward, the female had seemed to slip on a particularly slick spot and ended up butt first in more snow. Ouch.  He found himself wincing, face scrunched up, because really it did suck to fall, he knew from previous experiences since he had not fallen too long ago.

The female was on her feet in no time though, he hair flipping around her rosy cheeks as her eyes scanned the crowd. She was probably looking for the culprit. It clicked instantly that he had been the person and dropping the other snow balls cradled to his chest, he tried to evade her gaze, but he could feel it practically eating him alive. “Ah ha….sorry?” It sounded mumbled to his own ears and he couldn’t help the flush of color rising in his face. Jiyong had epically screwed up, but come on someone was bound to hit her right? Maybe he shouldn’t have taken his frustrations out on the world today.

5 Pink Balloons ~Jiyong & Shou

Was he laughing? The moon sprite stopped waving his hands, initially confused by Jiyong’s reaction. He let out a sigh of relief then smiled, glad that the professor was not offended or angry. As Shou listened to the necromancer’s explanation, he noticed that his gums were visible along with his upper teeth. It was a unique smile that made he look even younger than twenty-seven and further reinforced why he is easily mistaken for a student. “Ah, I see. Is it difficult to create zombies? Like have you done it before?” He readjusted the balloon strings around his hand then nodded in understanding. “Mm. I pray and worship Luna, but I don’t think there is a name for that like other religions. I could be wrong though, I’ve never met anyone else like me and had the opportunity to ask what they thought.” Thinking that he heard the sound of someone approaching, he turned his head to look down the hallway. He waited for a person to appear but no one showed up. “I wonder what we should do if no one comes looking for these balloons.” Should they leave them there or was it more of “finders keepers, losers weepers” situation?

“Well raising zombies does take spilling blood. Preferably it is better when it’s your own, though a chicken would work well naturally.” Speaking about bloodletting was so simple and natural for Jiyong, he sometimes forgot that it could be a rather offensive subjects for others, if not disgusting. “And yes, I raise zombies from time to time, depends on the reasons.” The necromancer had actually animated one not too long ago and the memory still ate at him in a rather uncomfortable way. “I think that’s why people assume we are all Satanist. Having to use blood in a ritualistic setting and some snooping kids is all it takes to cause all sorts of gossip.” Of course there were real Satanists, but still he could imagine outsiders getting the wrong idea. Flashing a smile, he pushed the hair that had fallen into his face back. “Well it seems we both carry that burden. I’ve never met another person quite like myself. It can be troublesome, but also then you wouldn’t be as special.” Footsteps echoed down the hallway and glancing over briefly he waited, but nothing appeared. “Well surely you can keep them if you want. No one will know and I’m surely not going to say anything.”

Rune ☾ Jiyong + Anai

Hands coming up to finger one of the bottles closest to her waist, she barely restrained a flinch at him turning. She watched the oil slide on the insides of the glass as he spoke. While he was nasally, he was softer, too. She remembered what Qadira had told her so long ago, if only because they were truly the first words she had ever heard. She had told her that she, Katesch, had been the nightmare under children’s beds for centuries, used to scare young ones into making good decisions with their lives. She only knew that as a tale of how she had been, rather than who she was able to become with Qadira, but in that moment, she wondered how it would have been had she been conscious and seen the fear of the world’s reactions. The scars across her body didn’t come from nowhere. She knew that. But what must it have been like to be demonized while truly alive? Katesch had never truly thought about it.

The nervous movement he made drew her eyes and her thumbnail dug into the wax and cork seal of the bottle. She wished she hadn’t looked, in some ways, if only because his expression was one that elicited pain. Sharing emotion was not something she was familiar, good with, or something she could easily identify, but it was there. Removing herself from the shelf, she faced him openly again and her words were near forceful. ‘What is your name?’ An eye for an eye. He would know hers and she would know his. She would never be able to explain why it felt so important to her in that moment, but they were things she held onto. ‘Let me see your list.’ Holding out her palm, she didn’t even try to hide what was written there, because he had shown scars of his own. She did not feel safe. She would not turn her back to him like he had done her. She would not offer any other information that was close to her, but she could help him find what he needed.

Jiyong let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding when the female seemed to move away from the shelf. It seemed his little moment of truth had been enough to at least ease her more back into the environment, rather than hide from him in fear and hate. Yet, that did not mean things were fixed between them. He knew that quite well. Racial stigmas did not dissipate that quickly and even the hunch of her shoulders told him she was still not comfortable, but she was making the effort and it made the edges of his lips twitch with the need to smile. Her question brought feelings of confusion to the surface and the furrowing of his eyebrows, were sure enough proof of that. Clearing his throat the necromancer, brushed his thumb over the paper crinkled to bits in his hand. “Jiyong, please call me Jiyong.” Not Jeremiah. The name fluttered across his thoughts, eyes blinking and in an instant the fleeting words was slammed shut by mental doors.

He would not slip into those thoughts easily, not without a fight at least. “Oh, my list.” His eyes fell and grazed across the paper in his hand and with hesitation he handed it over to the female. Yet, the scars along her palm did not go unnoticed, but it wasn’t in his right to say anything. Instead he brought his eyes up to her face, trying to ignore the itch to ask. To know. “I was trying to find so dried thyme when we bumped into each other. I also need thistle, and mandrake root.” Well that’s what he hoped he was looking for. Jiyong did tend to get scatterbrained in anxiety ridden situations and he would look quite the fool if those items that he spoke of were not actually on the list. Even if he had made the error, he could hardly believe things could get any worse than they already were. Well as long as no touching occurred that is. Then all hell might break lose and the idea alone made the hair on his arms stick up in pain laced fear. A phantom ache he lived with on most days.

A+ for effort [jin&jiyong]

Seokjin is never fond of seizing the teacher’s attention. Back in high school, he always made sure he’d sit down behind someone bigger than him just so he could be blocked out from the teacher’s line of sight as an attempt not to be called out for participation. Of course, being as tall as he is, it’s never an easy task so he normally bows his head down and avoid eye contact every time he notices the teacher already scanning the classroom for a victim to humiliate. 

And this class is no different.

Seokjin has already lost count of how many times the professor of his magical rituals class had called him out for participation for the past few days in spite of his attempts to hide. Seokjin has been successful in avoiding the dilemma with the other teachers but unfortunately for him, this particular one has him scrutinized. To be fair, he never really humiliated Seokjin every time the healer had nothing to say but it is still downright embarrassing. It’s not that he doesn’t know the answer– it’s more about thinking of how his voice might crack or how he might trip on his words and humiliate himself even further. 

The young brunet purses his lips and lowers his head down a bit after having another round of ‘let’s-call-out-the-handsome-boy-in-class-for-participation’, hoping that this will be the last time his professor calls his name out.

Jiyong liked to think he was a pretty easy teacher. He was quite laid back and while he did assign homework that could be challenging, he always offered to help those that were struggling. His class was primarily made up of him asking questions and mini projects that took place in the class period allotted, unlike some professors who liked to send students home with work. However, one thing that typically flustered him was when people didn’t participate. Seokjin had become one of those students and while he didn’t know why, he was worried that joining the class so late in the semester would be daunting for him to understand the abstract concepts well enough to pass.

Pinching the bridge of his nose as color worked its way up his neck after another fleeting half-mumbled answer from the boy, he realized that it was no use. He couldn’t simply keep calling upon him to answer questions and hope he would pay more attention. “Alright class, it’s been a long day so how about we call it a day?” Cheers of rejoice were muttered and the noise of books been placed away and shoes against the wood floors filled the room. “Seokjin, you stay behind. I have something to talk to you about.” Walking around his desk, he came to lean against the front, arms crossed at his waist as he waited for the room to clear until it was just the two of them. “Can you tell me why you joined my class?”