ftkisung-blog - Tumblr blog

[ftkisung-blog]

KIM KISUNG && CHOI NAEIL (KIM KI) – NAESUNG @jungssan && @wondermints

I know you were thinking Bad things when you kissed me, oh Your tongue told me every lie

[ftkisung-blog]

[ftkisung-blog]

[ftkisung-blog]

dstaehee:

The sarcasm that so casually rolled over his tongue was easy to detect. It brought a smile to her face and she laughed softly. “oh well that sure sounds better than this funeral getup, if I ever go on out on my own i’ll keep it in mind,“ she paused for a few seconds as Kisung adjusted the rope one last time  “bright colors, because of all the light.“ The atmosphere wasn’t heavy, it didn’t feel they were breaking into building. Just actually standing on a roof in black, invisible to anyone who may have been looking through the windows of the surrounding structures. Their comments floated above the dark night, making the moon brighter, the event becoming more of a game than an important mission.

Taehee was pulled from her thoughts as Kisung called to her. He stood by the edge of the building, ready to go down. She watched as he checked the rope a last time, they looked sturdy enough. It seemed that though the two may be quite different, the similarity came in how they approached the job. She didn’t think that either of them could say wholeheartedly that they wanted to be there, maybe that’s why humor came into play, a way to escape to not have to think about what they were doing. Or he could just be entirely cynical and think that this was the best and most normal way for one to spend their night.

She stood behind him looking over the edge of the building, it really was a long way down, but nonetheless she stepped up on the ledge next to him. She feigned offense at his comment, “me? afraid? Never.” Tugging at the rope one last time Taehee turned with her back to the edge of the building. Slowly and with ease she lowered herself off of the roof. Hanging from a roof from nothing but a few ropes, over the streets she so often walked, hadn’t ever been on her bucket list. But, it wasn’t half bad, the wind played with her hair as she softly swung. The lights of the city almost looked brighter. “ okay where too, as long as you don’t just tell me to unclip i’ll do whatever. “ it was quite peaceful, something which she would have never imagined. For a second she almost thought that her father had done the right, just like he always had. But she quickly shook off the idea and looked back up at Kisung for directions.

His head shook. While it was tempting to tell her to unclip, to test her obedience and intelligence, traits of which would have worked against each other in this instance, Kisung merely decided to lean over the edge himself, checking where she dangled, her rope looping all the way up to where he stood, where it connected to his own harness, before running through to the stable structure. “That’s a big if, but I definitely recommend it. There’s something about being so noticeable that just makes people choose to ignore you --- and the look on peoples faces, when they review monitors and see a person covered head to toe in neon cellophane was responsible for a robbery, is just so rewarding.”

Once her swaying had settled down since her drop, now only disturbed slightly by the wind rushing toward the building, Kisung lowered himself down the roof, cautiously using the walls to bump to the females position so they could dangle side by side, and so he could monitor her from this angle better than he would a few feet away. “So you’re really not afraid, huh? You must be pretty brave. I passed out the first time I did this.” Grabbing onto her harness as he made light conversation, the male silently teased the girl with the impending doom by not explaining what he was adjusting and just doing it. While he’d really just doubled up the security so she couldn’t swing away from him, and so a potential break in the strings would either lead to the both of them plummeting, or result in a rope being strained with two bodies, the movements did indeed, seem to resemble an unclip and loosening, to an untrained eye. “Ended up dangling there for half an hour, until the old man I was with realized I was unconscious.”

Now slowly lowering so a few large and dark windowpanes were passed, Kisung chuckled, nudging the girl to brush it off as if he’d just shared a witty joke. His nerves still got to him on these kinds of jobs, and having to worry about the safety of an extra person, who’d never done this before, definitely added pressure, but at least he had somebody to hold onto the tools, so he didn’t have to feel so weighed down. “We’re nearly there. Can you go into the bottom left patch on your harness? I’m pretty sure I packed you with some charcoal and a super dangerous toy we’re gonna need to get inside.” 

\shinobi\

[ftkisung-blog]

choidsnaeil:

To the assassin, the hum that left his lips was like a death blow, and it left Naeil frozen, her eyes staring into the cupboard blankly. Not seeing the coffee just within reach of her fingertips as she sucked in a shaky breath that caught in her throat until she worried she might choke on it. She expected him to argue, to fight, tell her to screw off or go to hell. Then again, he didn’t seem overly aggressive, that was a small grace in and of itself. Wetting her lips she allowed her eyes to drop to the counter top. “You don’t…have to. But. I’d….” She’d what? She swallowed thickly a soft husky laugh, coloured with her own exhaustion and emotional turmoil filling their silence. “It’d be nice.”

She sensed his movement before he had even made it into the kitchen space, her body freezing as she waited, senses on overdrive. A tremble coursed through her spine, causing her knees to quake, and all Naeil could do was stand there. Stand and wait, forcing her brain not to anticipate his motive for approaching her while her back was turned. Surely he was too drunk to carry out any sort of assassination attempt. Even if he wasn’t, she could easily counteract any action he took, she was sure of it. She was exhausted but still had the edge. She was slipping into the mindset of Kim Ki, and even as it happened she hated it. Hated her distrust in him. Sure, he had spent the better part of their breakup being particularly petty. But he still deserved her trust. Her physically safety was never in question, except within the confines of her own mind.

Naeil realized a breath too late that he was planning to touch her. Even as her mind moved as if through jello to process in the words slurred off his tongue. She had always been like a child in that respect. She hated to be touched, or to be held without consent, without warning. She could face everything in her life without faltering as long as she was never touched, but as his arms wrapped around her waist all she could feel were the quakes of her defenses and resolve as they crumbled around her. Blinking rapidly her hand shot to his arm, but she lacked the incentive to pull it away as her eyes welled with hot, wet tears brimming to their breaking point before carving a burning trail down her cheeks. On little touch, that was all it took to bring the feared Kim Ki to her knees. Pathetic. And she had always been a little bit pathetic, at least, always when it came to him.

“What?” She breathed softly, her other hand coming to rest atop his with a touch so feather soft Naeil almost doubted he could feel it at all. She could smell the alcohol on him, the scents that came with clubbing and enjoying oneself, and a sickeningly sweet stench that surely matched the lipstick on his face and neck. The strength of the emotions inside her chest at war caused her slight frame to tremble in his hold as she bounced between wanting to cave, and to cry and a silent bitter rage that only jealousy could produce. And still…”What do you have to be sorry for?” Leaving her, maybe? Showing up. Being so weak that alcohol had led him to her doorstep? Or maybe for having the audacity to break her back down, just so he could walk back out again tomorrow. He was shameless. It was too much. But then, so was she.

Closing her eyes in defeat she clenched her jaw, biting back the urge break down as she leaned back into the warmth of his chest. “Kisung, why?” It came out so soft, so vulnerable – and she truly loathed herself for the weakness in it. For the humanity. She sucked in a breath so sharp it made an audible hiss, and she held it until her lungs burned with a pain that nearly rivaled the one in her chest before slowly exhaling. Ignoring the sound of his breath, and the tears on her cheeks and her hands still hovering over his as she leaned into his body. Body and emotions at war with what action to take next until she was rendered immobile in his grasp.

What was he sorry for? Where to start? She wasn’t familiar with his misjudged hatred. He’d not made it obvious that his intentions were to express how tortured he felt by the mere sight of her, as he’d done nothing but beg for temporary sanctuary, and though he was certain she wasn’t dense enough to not think their previous run in and little confrontation would reignite memories of distrust and distance and overcompensation, that wasn’t nearly all he’d reflected upon, on the days since. Trouble was her third name --- more distinctive than both Naeil and Ki, to eyes that struggled to recognize just who it was he was now embracing with ever changing emotions. Would staying really be nice? 

Believably, this was a new low for the male. Even days before and after they’d separated, he’d not felt the impact of the split, nor had he acted so recklessly as an attempt to ignore the memory of her --- so he’d not understood why a quick meeting had resulted in this breakdown. A good time was easy enough to have in Dire Strait and it was more than capable of relieving the young multilayered man of discomfort and stress, and a drink or two or more, mixed with some light gambling and human interaction, usually fixed him --- but sitting in that room, with that woman of which constantly reapplied the passionfruit lipstick before marking his skin, did nothing but turn him toward Naeil. The woman he’d embraced in the club and the woman he embraced in the kitchen, were not all similar. The former was sloppy and carefree, and Naeil was everything but moronic, And it was the differences that had beckoned him to this apartment, instead of the one the passionfruit woman occupied.  

A warm deep sigh brushed through his stained lips onto her neck, as the pair used each others bodies for support to combat a shared weakness. Seemingly, they were both pathetic in each others company, able to bend to the will of the other with specifically wishing to. Once, Kisung had been so obedient and desperate for her affection that he’d perhaps not realized it quickly turned into suffocation, but what he was doing now, clinging to her, provoking a quiver in the females frame, was completely purposeful --- a suffocation attempt brought on by nothing but a vulnerability and fuzzy mind, innocent on the surface ( triggered by the venom in his bloodstream ) and cruel on the inside. He knew what he was missing about her, and he knew how much she’d hurt him, so he wanted to make sure the feeling was mutual.

“Everything.” He whispered almost instantly, his broken voice so fast it’d just about cut her questioning off. There was more to his apologies, than she’d likely assume, and while he’d not elaborate any further to explain just what it was he was doing, his silence kept it up. Arms tightened around her waist and his head readjusted itself so his chin now rested behind her shoulder, eyes of his own filled with liquid. In many ways, Kisung was making peace for his own past and present indiscretions, but the main reason his words stuttered out was for his own benefit. He was apologizing for her, because he’d sensed her pride would out rival his own, and he wouldn’t forgive himself for being so close to her, when she’d not shown any obvious sign of regret for the secrets she’d kept. 

Letting a dry sob replace his silence for a brief moment, with stray tears followed suit, soaking his warm flushed cheeks and the top of her shoulder, where they would eventually drop; regret became his own downfall. It always had been, and it probably always would be --- but with no real friends to turn to for support, or none he felt confident confining in, regret and Naeil was all he had. “I love you.” Drunk and tearful, he wouldn’t admit it any other way, and maybe it wasn’t even true, and maybe it never had been true ( though he’d never voiced such grand affection beforehand ), but Kisung had said it, through a mumble and a slur and a sob, for her to clearly understand.

≫ passionfruit.

[ftkisung-blog]

choidsnaeil:

Warm chocolate eyes watched him as he swayed slightly in the hallway of her apartment, bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she examined him, in concern and confusion as he seemed to be working out exactly why it was that he was even in her home to begin with. Still unsure herself as to why she had opened the door to begin with. Their last meeting wasn’t fun, it wasn’t comfortable – if anything it was glaringly obvious that neither of them were ready to be friends, likely they never would be, and yet here Kisung was. Towering over her, and yet seeming so small as his eyes artfully avoided her gaze. I don’t know what I want anymore. The assassin nearly laughed. When was the last time she knew the answer that question? Especially when it came to him.

“Its…” she inhaled a light breath and managed a smile that was hesitant but in no way fake. “Alright.” But was it? So late at night and while he was intoxicated to the point that she doubted he would really meet be able to see her, even if their eyes did meet. Then there was the matter of the lipstick smeared across his face, down his neck. That was one she wasn’t prepared for, and should have been. She wasn’t ignorant of his reputation. He’d told her about it himself more than once, he was a ladies man. And he was single, who was she to judge? She had to right. And yet it was making her careful smile wilt in its tracks. A sour feeling rising from her gut. He would drunk text her and show up out of the blue covered in someone’s cheap knock off brand lipstick. This was probably revenge.

Breath left her lungs as if she had taken a physical blow. A tangible panic beginning to stir in her chest at his words. Naeil had never really known where she stood when it came to the man before her, but regardless of their present awkwardness, their past or any negative emotion she had ever felt where he was concerned there was no way she wanted him to just walk out of her life through the literal front door. Wetting her lips, her mouth opened and closed several times before she managed to get anything out that could even pass for words. “I don’t m-mind if you shower. That’s fine. But maybe you should stay– just a while. Until you are a little more sober maybe or…something.”

It is the singularly most annoying feeling in the world for a woman to suddenly be struck by the desire to cry in front of someone she couldn’t stand the thought of crying in front of, especially when the reason for the tears weren’t exactly clear. But here she was, eyes skirting around him in a quick dance to avoid his face as she walked towards the kitchen sink, flicking the lights on as she rummaged around looking for the coffee. More for a distraction than anything. “You remember when the shower is, right?” She asked, still feeling as though she’d been sucker punched. “I think I might still have a shirt or two that are yours in the closet…if you need them. Just leave that on the hamper i’ll wash it for you before you go.”

Kindness wasn’t even remotely expected. He’d done something both careless and thoughtless, fixated on one thing and one thing only, whatever that thing may have been --- and all she offered was kindness. Could he blame her for his misery now? Maybe sober he would have tried, but drunk, with emotions so raw and open, it was damn near impossible. Back turned, so neither Naeil or Kisung could observe each others avoidance, a dry tear sniffled it’s way down a stained cheek. Damn it. He cursed in silence, dragging long digits through a messy head of hair. Of all places to run to, he’d had to have chosen her home.

Turned in on himself, the tall male shook off foul jitters, listening to her near noiseless steps as feet moved further from his temporary standing place. Rejection was immediate, the moment she’d suggested he stick around longer than necessary, but it never left his painted purple lips. Turning the suggestion down wouldn’t have required much effort, a mere no would have sufficed --- but Kisung was complicated, and so was she.

To indicate he’d understood her hushed tone, Kim Kisung offered a groan-like hum, one that could express many things and answer more comments than real words ever could. A hum was certain, unlikely to have a meaning outside of the desired will do, of course, or yeah fine, i’ll do it --- but in the mouth of an artist, well versed in knowing what other people wanted to hear, a hum was detrimental.

On any other occasion, knowing the layout of ones home would prove to be quite useful for moving around. If he really wanted, Kisung would have been able to break into the woman's home when it was unattended ( in fact, he once had ), knowing exactly where to look for anything of value to pawn. It was also useful in instances like this, when a person so intoxicated needed to walk himself through a home that was not his own, to take a cold shower. Had Naeil not been Naeil, he would have stumbled in the opposite direction, situating himself in the bathroom to remove the smell of the night he’d experienced from his skin. But Naeil was Naeil and Ki, and still trying to understand why he’d turned up on her doorstep, he’d walked the other way --- ghosted the woman across the apartment, into the kitchen.

No chance to catch a breather for either of the two, Kisung, with his head still hung low, got closer, his weight increasing as his heartbeat changed pace. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, weakness coursing through his throat as he apologized for things he’d never said --- breaking through the uncomfortable walls they’d both put up to keep each other out, his arms mindlessly wrapping around her waist as his face buried into the crook of her neck, the liquor on him strong, but not nearly as intoxicating as her scent. “I’m sorry.” A stuttered deep sigh breathed, eyes squeezed shut, hoping to Sonder she wouldn’t make an attempt to push him away so soon. “I missed you...”

≫ passionfruit.

[ftkisung-blog]

[ftkisung-blog]

dstaehee:

@dskisung

She’d managed to go quite a bit of time without getting her hands dirty. Luckily it wasn’t quite diving into the deep end, breaking in to a building shouldn’t be too hard. At least that’s what she’d thought, up until now that she actually found herself on the roof of one of the anonymous buildings that helped to make up the cities picturesque highrise. Taehee proped her knee up on the edge of the building to tie her shoe, her black jeans and shirt now in her field vision. She’d seen movies about this type of thing, but she never thought that people really dressed in black from head to toe. It was quite comical actually, maybe she could get through the job after all. Though she wasnt sure she cared for much but the outfit.

In any case her partner seemed to know what he was doing well enough. His outfit matched hers, black on black. Looking at him, she honestly couldn’t figure out why they were paired together. He stood about a foot taller than her, and seemed to be her complete opposite. Kim Kisung, her superior had told her, an undercover cop or something, she hadn’t been paying much attention to tell the truth. But now that they were here she kind of wished that she had. Taehee as hit with the realization that she might have missed an important key point and her partner wouldn’t care because the mission had to be completed even without her. Or what if it was a double mission and he was just here to get rid of her, oh why hadn’t she listened more to the instructions.

It was at times like this that she truly hated her father, she wouldn’t even have to be here. She used to be able to do as she pleased, now her every move was monitored and if things didn’t go as planned, well that was it. She tied her hair up repeatedly adjusting it as Kisung tied a thick ropes of sorts on different pieces of the roof. Taehee picked up some of it testing to see if it was sturdy, and trying to make it look like she was doing something, as opposed to just standing there. It looked fine, so she breathed a bit deeper to get herself to relax, telling herself it was highly unlikely that she would just get thrown off the roof. They wouldn’t get rid of her she must be of some use to them right, or they wouldn’t have followed her fathers request. It probably be better if she just went along like normal though and followed the directions she had listened to “is this casual attire what you always wear” she asked turning around to see Kisung walking over to her having finished tying the rope presumably.

Since being dropped to wonder on the rooftop, Kisung had kept his mind focused on the job, dashing back and forth as he paid careful attention to the knots tied around cylinders and other shapes that sat upon the building. His young partner for the night, small as a mouse, wasn’t exactly the perfect companion to bring on such a mission, but she obeyed well enough, and wore the costume he’d handed her before they’d set off for trouble. Kisung knew he had to be especially careful with the harnesses on this oddly quiet night, as the rumors were undoubtedly clear --- her father was not a man to upset, and perhaps the most upsetting thing he could learn if this suicide mission were to fail, would be the affect gravity would have on his child's small figure.

A firm nod confirmed the completion of safety, before he, wearing black to play with the stereotypical attire criminals were usually spotted in, in the media, moved like a shadow, to where the girl waited. “No this is a first.” He answered, carefully wrapping the thin yet incredibly strong military grade rope around her waist, attaching the end to the near invisible harness-like belt he’d had her put on, before connecting it to his own. “Normally, I wear neon gloves and glow sticks. It really helps me blend in and hide on jobs like this.” He teased, fixing the rope one last time, before once again distancing himself.

Though he carried an air of immaturity with himself, Kisung was very much trying, to make the break in as comfortable as possible. It was Taehee’s first time, after all. He’d been told that much. He’d also been told it was unfortunate for her to have to deal with his peculiar methods, as they were nothing like the typical criminals guidelines, but he was the only available hand to bring her along, and the council underneath the reign of Crooked-Mouth and Mad Lion, demanded the eighteen year old get out in the field for once. “Come over here.” He called out to her, standing in what would be considered the perfect position to scale down the building from, shaking the rope that connected his belt to her belt to the knots keeping it sturdy, as if to urge her forward. “If you’re afraid of heights, it’s too late to go back now, but you’re going to have to trust me and do what I say, no matter whay, okay? That’s the only way we’re going to make it to the right floor in one piece.”

\shinobi\

[ftkisung-blog]

choidsnaeil:

Her television didn’t turn off at this time of night. It was one thing to do what she did, and a whole other thing to sleep with it. Rarely were her restless dreams pleasant, it was something Naeil figured all of Dire Straight shared. If you could sleep soundly in a place like this there was truly evil in your soul. Maybe she killed people and stole their money and secrets but she at least had the good moral compass to feel bad about it from sunset to sunrise. Then she tucked it in her proverbial briefcase and let it be. She had long lost the plot of the drama she was watching, eyes blurred with exhaustion as the clock ticked closer and closer to two in the morning.

She could have gone out – called a friend, found some food, done anything really. But what was the point? She was so much more at home in the safety of her own home, apartment walls outlining the safest place in the world, as far as she was concerned. Outside always felt dangerous. If she were to go out, who would she even call? Friend, a rather foreign concept to the overly cautious mafioso. she had few, and fewer still that she could trust. Even within her chosen ‘family’ she knew the times were changing. People were always power hungry, struggling for more and looking for the express route to get it. She wasn’t particularly afraid of death, the law, or spending her life in prison. But the idea of being murdered by some upstart mafia soldier while having a drink made her see a little red. No, best to stay in.

Besides, out was dangerous for other reasons as well, and certain parties were to be avoided at all costs. As her show faded into a commercial boasting the newest high-tech corneal implants designed to capture and store memory segments, along with a very sleep looking web interface and cellular option the hacker in her sighed heavily. Soon her job would involve sorting through thousands of hours of worthless memento footage just to locate useful information. Already she was exhausted. Yawning sleepily she contemplated pulling her tired body off the couch and slinking off to bed.

A soft ding interrupted her thoughts and she glanced down seeing the screen of her out of date phone alight with a new message. Kim Kisung. Even as she read the name associated with the message a long breath slipped past her lips. His name like a physical blow as it brought back all of those memories of a time she would sooner forget. There last meeting hadn’t exactly been advantageous. So why? Unlocking her phone she stared at the message harder, searching for some alternative angle. Was he here for revenge? Could she really be upset with him if he was? “What is this?” She murmured under her breath, standing from the couch on shaky legs as she shuffled her way towards the door.

Peeking through the eye-hole she shook her head lightly with a heavy exhale and unlocked the door, slowly pulling it open. Dressed simply in her dove grey sleeping shorts with the cute llama pattern and her favorite, seen better days t-shirt advertising some long since closed Earth tattoo shop, she cocked her head at him, eyes sweeping across her form. “You’re drunk,” she mused softly, nose assaulted by the smell of liquor and smoke, the usual club combination. There was lipstick too, she noted. Across his face. “How sloppy,” she rolled her eyes, head shaking from side to side. Still, she stepped backwards, cleared the doorway enough to allow him entry. Suddenly she was wide-awake, her stomach was quickly becoming raw with nervousness. It would be a miracle if she managed to sleep tonight, then again. How could she? “Do….I mean are….is there something I can do for you?”

Pointlessly, Kisung’s foot would tap against the floor as he hummed an impatient tune, a blurred and fuzzy vision glancing down at the screen of his phone every few seconds for a response. He’d hoped the woman in his thoughts would return a simple go away, to shoo his loitering self out of the building and into his own bed, but as nothing came, he whined. How hard was it? Did she have an excuse to leave him there, standing in complete desperation? Drunk or sober, Kisung strongly thought not. He’d done nothing wrong, as far as he was concerned.

“I know you’re in there.” He mumbled to himself, dragging his face down the frame before stumbling back to a proper stance, phone tucking away in his back pocket to keep himself from sending any more demanding messages. “I can hear your TV! You can’t just ignore me like thi---” Rendered speechless as the door peak open, Kisung, so eager to curse at the woman for bumping into him weeks ago, for haunting his dreams and thoughts ever since that awful and awkward meeting in the cafe on the corner street, swallowed his own tongue. “I...” The singular word came out in a stutter, a very uncharacteristic trait triggered by the appearance of the stranger he couldn’t name in his intoxication. 

Silence stubbornly followed as he stared at her with a great deal of regret. There she was, standing in both his thoughts and his view with a casual outfit he’d once the chance to see on the regular, clean as a whistle, while he on the other hand, stood with a sway as a 6 ft something mess, covered in an escorts cheap lipstick with a ruined dress shirt stained by a spilled sarsaparilla concoction, holding onto the wood of the open door frame to at least hold onto his height, if all dignity had been abandoned. If he said nothing more, Kisung wondered how easy it would be to turn tail and run out onto the streets to flag down a ride, to pretend he’d never decided to attempt to confront Ki, or Naeil, or whatever her name was in that moment. Would he have been able to sleep nightmare free? Knowing some poor waitress had quite possibly been found dead or declared missing because of his foolish nature? Unlikely.

Blinking away discomfort, the boy dropped his arm to his side and slowly stepped into the apartment he’d silently been invited into, the atmosphere uncomfortable and stuffy, as his warm body looked around at the familiar layout. Things were different, items he’d remembered being in certain places had either disappeared or moved, but overall, he knew this home. He knew where to find the bathroom and the bedroom and everything else. “Can I...” With little confidence left after a night of wasting talent and acting a fool, Kisung’s lips twitched and his face turned downward, eyes avoiding all contact. “I was close by.” He lied, knowing very well that he’d taken quite a long drive to end up here. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

For a while, Kisung merely kept his head down, breathing in the smell of the home he’d invaded, with the realization of the mistake he’d made replacing the image of the woman he’d heard in mind convince him to do this. An excuse took it’s time to roll off his numb tongue, and sensitivities had been sniffled to keep emotions at bay, he didn’t need to stain his skin with further substances. “I just want to wash up. Then I’ll go back out there and you won’t have to see me ever again.”

≫ passionfruit.

[ftkisung-blog]

≫ passionfruit.

@choidsnaeil

It had all been for a good laugh. A way to shake off the stress of a hardworking police force, after a long and draining day. He enjoyed doing this, going out with a uniform and badge locked deep in the wardrobes of his apartment, breathing the air of a young man with nothing to lose. Cocky smiles would tickle his cheeks from five to two, a party on a sturdy pair of legs that would slowly lose balance as the moons came to rise. Any opportunity to leave his good doer job early in the afternoon, was always used to it’s full potential. A mischievous twenty-three year old wasting no time, when it came to changing masks.

Dire Strait South was the playground of choice these days. Kiss, a confident man with a few great party tricks up his sleeves, knew exactly when to grace the establishments covering the land. He’d weave through crowds effortlessly, his long frame having no difficulty with a crowd of free spirited people, until every casino and club had acted as a host for his naughty antics. While running reckless wasn’t unusual for the boy from Suban, the nature of his celebrations this night were worrisome, to say the least.

Downing drink after drink, mixing vodka and sarsaparilla in his mouth before exchanging drunken kisses with a woman he’d joined in a private room he’d slipped into in one of few 5 star clubs in the south, reckless became careless. To burn through the concerns of life as a corrupt police officer, Kisung whispered nonsense into the ears of his company, dwelling on the past as it came to stand in the center of his mind. There history remained, distracting him from the enjoyable company, and the stress, and the nice girl in the club. 

Without thought, as two struck the clock, Kisung brushed his knuckles against a cold door frame, frustrations ready to spill down hot pink cheeks. He’d intentions to blame the woman behind the door for his current suffering ( perhaps former suffering too ), after all, she was the one standing with a smirk on her face in the middle of his brain, beckoning him to this very complex.

Allowing thumbs to punch the alphabet into a short letter flicked over to the owner of this home behind the door, Kisung audibly huffed, pressing his forehead against the door as a reply was waited for. He was embarrassed to say the least, but nobody would be able to tell underneath the liquor’s hue, or the passionfruit lipstick smudged from lips to cheeks to jaw to neck.

TEXT: [ ✊ let me in ] today 02:29 am

[ftkisung-blog]

hi folks! it’s hayley here, and this is my very very tol bean who is his own polar opposite 99% of the time. he likes sunshine and fun times but honestly he chose to play on the wrong team for that bc he’s lowkey not a bean at all. you can find my plot page for this boy right here, but other stuff is absolutely welcome ^^

he never knew his father because the man wanted absolutely nothing to do with kisung’s mother when she fell pregnant

so he holds his mothers surname and honestly that’s ok

was bullied as a kid cause he was poor and didn’t get any respect from his peers because of where he came from

he stole for the very first time at 9 because he really really needed to prove his bullies wrong by cheating them out of all of their fancy collectible holographic cards

almost killed a suban gang member by accident

and had to runaway when he was 18 because of said incident

so he moved to dire strait, where he was lucky enough to get help from his only childhood friend, who had moved there when kisung was 16

but uh oh, maybe trusting a good childhood friend wasn’t the best idea

especially when he’s known to be the jealous type

bye bye sweet life, you didn’t last long

nicknamed kiss while working as a skivvy in tesla north, bc all the wealthy women wanted to kiss him and his name starts with letters k.i.s

only has one kidney cause the mafia stole it and sold it to pay part of a debt kisung’s former employer ( and former mafia affiliate ) had left behind when he was arrested

was personally given the option to join the mafia by leader crooked-mouth ( who was influenced to do so, by miyuki durand )

and was instantly made an apprentice to one of the older mafioso

though he’s still salty af about the missing kidney y’know

but he is honestly lucky he didn’t inherit his mothers alcoholism or his grandfathers gambling addiction

though he does wonder if he’s got a gambling problem sometimes, but nah kisung knows he does it for the thrill and the fact that he’s hella good at conning people that way

somewhat enjoys working as a police officer, because it makes him feel like he was able to do something to be proud of with his life, even though he knows he’s not exactly a good cop ( being told to become one by the mafia, does that to you )

as a police officer he is san magellanic, which is a name he had come up on his own when a false id and resume was prepared. san because it was simple and easy to remember, and magellanic bc why the f not? it sounds cool! xD 

[ftkisung-blog]

[ftkisung-blog]

choiadnaeil:

In a singular moment Choi Naeil ceased to exist. Innocence and lethargy were replaced by strikingly sharp senses and a deeply rooted caution of outsiders as she surveyed the situation, sucking in a breath as her gaze flickered between Kisung, whose emotions clearly were clouding his judgment at the moment and the waitress. She had been so very continue to sit and be silent, to watch the emotions play on his face in reaction to his billion questions, waiting for him to decide which question was best or where to start. Her eyes tracing the graceful steeple of his fingers as they so effortlessly destroyed the sugar packet. Wasn’t that the best explication for what she had done? For what he had done? They were Seoul Tigers, and by nature – they destroyed. It was practically in their genetics. She destroyed the truth of herself for the sake of her jobs, and he destroyed himself in the pursuit of just what, she wasn’t sure. Being a Tiger had to of been a bitter pill to swallow, and a cop, another smack in the face. Did the why, the justification, truly matter so much?

Looking at the waitress a bright smile masked her unease as she reached across the table grabbing his hand in a way that looked casual, just a couple on a date. Her grip on him however belied the charade, she could feel her fingertips digging into his skin, knew it would likely bruise and hoped he would come to his sense enough to realize he had put this girls life in danger in a moment of thoughtless recklessness. Had put her life in danger. “Kisungie~” she whined, pouting at him playfully, feeling sick to her stomach at how familiar it was. “Stop practicing your lines now, you’re scaring the waitress.” The look she gave to the uneasy woman was so sugar sweet and bright that had she of been a man Naeil knew she would have left with his number, as it was she examined the girls face reading the tightness to her mouth and the pinch in her brow. “He is going to be an actor you know, on TV. Isn’t he just gorgeous?” She could see her change in demeanor was throwing the poor thing off but she kept at it until she had relaxed. Knowing better than to push it she released him at the earliest opportunity and sweetly ordered her own drink, and the drink her memory supplied him favoring before shooing the girl off. When she met his gaze again it wasn’t the beight, confident Ki any longer just a very annoyed Naeil. “Reckless.” The word came out with the harshness of the dirtiest swear word as she stared him down. She would have to make a few more calls than she had planned on today. That poor girls life now hung in the balance and knowing him, he hardly even cared. “That-” she glanced in the direction of the counter. “Is blood on your hands, not mine.” Leaning back in her chair she crossed her legs, foot jigging in agitation. It took several long moments before her face had once again turned passive and serene. “No. You were never my target. If you were you wouldn’t be here right now, jeopardizing my cover and her existence,” she breathed out finally, her eyes betraying her calm facade. “I was too deeply bogged down by your assumptions by the time my own feelings caught up,” she admitted haltingly. “And we were already falling apart.” The words she didn’t speak hung heavy in her mind. They couldn’t have survived the truth. He wouldn’t have handled it any better. And why add fuel to the fire of their arguments? Suddenly very tired she patted the spit she usually hung her purse, the promise of escape and solitude too intoxicating to deny; when instead of leather she grasped air. Glancing at him with a look of puzzled horror she suddenly placed the item her mind had been demanding she’d forgotten when she walked out the door. “My purse,” she groaned in defeat. She knew exactly where it was too. Right on the hook where she’d left it.

As one would expect, Kisung did not take the sudden skinship so well. Not because she was hurting him ( which she most definitely was, as he felt her nails dig into the soft skin that could not dare to pull free ), or because it had surprised him, but because it was familiar. They were fingers he would have played with as they cuddled on a sofa after a long days work, fingers that would have brushed through his hair as they shared a tender kiss, palms he would place all kinds of gifts into --- deceptively soft hands, that never needed to try very hard to make him weak. He missed her touch, and resented it abundantly. While the waitress stood addressed by the female customer, Kisung sat silent, his face contorting in many different ways, expressing the sting that would eventually follow as skin broke under her grip. He would have rather liked to chime in, to beg the waitress to call somebody to come and save him, to completely destroy the story Naeil shared --- but how could he? She’d caught him before he could say anything too incriminating.

While the waitress had been more than suspicious of the soon to debut actor and his date, she’d eventually bought into the cover, nodding her head with a sort of chuckle before taking the orders and running with them. Out of sight, she would gossip with co-workers, whispering about the strange handsome young man, who’d been practicing his lines for the small screen. She’d cite him as a very weird fellow, sparking interest in younger members of the waitstaff, whom would all try to get a look at the pair in the booth, during their stay. “So I’ve been told.” He mumbled spitefully, finally reclaiming his hands to shake off the pinched pain ( ignoring the small speckles of blood that had been drawn under peeled skin ), before sitting on them, to keep well away from her touch. “Putting her in danger was not my intention --- but you don’t need to make that kind of decision so hastily. I doubt she’s even knows what she heard.”

“They’re just lines after all. How is she going to cause trouble if she doesn’t know the whole story?” Naeil had been right to assume Kisung wouldn’t care all that much about the careless things he’d uttered in such a public place, or the ramifications that would follow, but he wasn’t completely selfish. He was trying to defend the innocent life he’d endangered.

Huffing to disturb the sugar pile mounted on the tabletop, discomfort came rushing right back, though he was making an attempt to behave more than he’d behaved minutes ago, not wanting to give his company more reason to let her guarded personality plan more murder victims. “I don’t know what you want from me.” He commented, no longer posing questions for the woman to gloss over and ignore. There was no point in wasting his breath, trying to get her to explain their relationship. “I didn’t assume anything. I ran with what I was told.” There wasn’t much of a difference, but Kisung was beginning to believe Naeil’s words. Maybe he wasn’t set up or targeted, after all --- she did remember his fondness of double chocolate hazelnut coffee. 

“I was reckless even then. It’s my nature.” The confession came with a pitiful shrug, as he turned his gaze downward once again. Part of him didn’t want to be upset anymore, foaming at the mouth for the truth; that part of him wanted to relax, to pull up a number in his phone book for a voice to share worries with, and the run-in with Naeil. The other part of him, the more dominant part of him, wasn’t yet tired of the grudge he carried in mind. It wanted to go on like this, until she put him out of his misery. “Hmm?” With less malice and desperation in his tone, Kisung followed the woman's attention to the emptiness beside her, the next words naturally rolling off his tongue out of habit. “It wasn’t me... Aigoo, did you really just order a drink you can’t pay for?”

✧*º•☾AS IT SEEMS.❜CN|KK