#simon muhn; threads

[vicioushauntings]

SIMON MUHN && HAN JAE SONG

“Han Jae,” Simon closes the door to their bedroom behind him. “I...I need to tell you something,” When had he ever felt this nervous before? Not with Han. Never with Han. Simon touches at his forehead. Is he sweating bullets? Ectoplasm? A knot tightens in his stomach. The room tilts sideways. Bells clang in his ears. He needs to sit down. 

“You and I...we’ve known each other for a long time, yes?” For nearly two decades. For practically half his life. “And you...you enjoy staying here, yes? With me. And...and the children, of course,” His head nods along with words that make little sense. “Would you follow me anywhere, if I asked you to?”

@axdently​

[peachymoonbeams]

simon muhn && han jae song

Students were not the only ones abuzz with life as the end of term drew closer. The spring holidays had come to pass, and while there was still more work to be done, finals, O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s, and recommendation letters for further studies were only the beginning of Simon’s extensive list.

Mostly, he prefers to work with only himself and the ticking clock on his shelves for company. Any student who dared to as much as walk too loudly outside of Professor Muhn’s office threatened detention, a deduction of house points, additional work, or a combination of all three.

But that particular day, Simon finds his office unbearably stuffy. In an odd change of events, beads of sweat drip from his brow. Where Simon, almost always, finds himself too cold rather than too warm, he currently cannot stand the temperature of his office. He tucks his gradebook for fifth years under his arm and takes his current folder of ungraded assignments and makes his way to the dungeons.

Simon doesn’t bother knocking on the door to the potions room, knowing he is among the few who are always welcome in the dungeons. “Be glad you’re underground this time of year,” Simon closes the door behind him. It’s blistering out there,” In the mild underground air, he feels more in his element. “Do you have a kettle on for any tea?”

@sectvmsemprasx​

[solitaryspirits]

han jae song

A white box with a heavy black ribbon sits directly in the middle of Simon’s small office desk. He doesn’t get much room in the labs, but his computer, documents, and archives need a place stored away from any specimen. The majority of his reports are outgoing - updates, lab work, test results, all sent back to various doctors within the hospital. Mail shouldn’t be sent there. After his coffee cup rests next to the keyboard, Simon inspects the box closer. Other than the thick ribbon, the box lacks any identifiable marks, no signature, not even his name inscribed on a card and tucked underneath. For a time, Simon sets the box to the side - work always piles up in his off hours, emails to write, advice to offer, more reports to send...if the day were longer, Simon still wouldn’t have the time to dwell on the box’s contents.

So of course Simon’s thoughts routinely draw back to it regardless.

The cursor of a blank email burns into his irises until Simon can’t stare at another document or digitally scanned photograph of skin cells. In the privacy of his closet office, Simon draws the box back to the center of his desk. He tugs at one strand of the ribbon, then the other, and frees the box of its dressing. His fingers pluck at the corner to remove the lid. Simon had assumed the box would hold a delicately written death threat, a new assignment from his former employer, a new mystery to add to the strange town of Salem itself. A literal, bloody heart, did not make the list of Simon’s own assumptions. 

Lifting the human heart up with his surplus of latex gloves reveals a single note in the bottom of the box written in the only script Simon knows better than his own. Are we friends? Simon enjoys a good riddle, but this was a puzzle he needs no time to solve. He would know that writing both in this life, in the next, and whatever were to come after. As if cradling a child, Simon rests the heart back in its place. From his own personal collection of jars, Simon fills one with the pure methanol he uses as an antiseptic to place the heart inside. He holds the jar up to the light and watches as the organ bobs around in the liquid, then falls to the bottom. He leaves it secluded on his office desk that night - its a gift he intends on sharing with no one else.

Its late in the evening of the next day that Simon stands in front of Han Jae’s home. Enemies, rivals, friends...enemies, friends, lovers...a single word could never be enough to define the extent of their relationship, but Simon hopes the gift of his own that he offers between his hands does a better job than his words ever could. He doesn’t let himself into Han’s home, despite still keeping his hold on the key. When Han opens the door, Simon didn’t expect to find him dressed so well - the scent of Han’s cologne seems to linger through the opened door. Still, Simon raises the deep blue pot up from between his hands.

“Were you expecting someone? I made dinner for you. Will you allow me inside?”

@sin-tentional​

[emittingauras]

@clownpool​

“What is it that you use to get blood stains out of clothes? Seltzer water and lemon? You’re not allowed to ask me why I need to know.”

[clownpool]

–––––– Kyle ; ( @emittingauras ) : like seeing a ghost

meeting the parents of the number one crush in your life is hard enough as it is. while Kyle had meat Seon-Mi Song plenty of times, both in passing and in times of hangouts when he was allowed over, Kyle had it on good faith that it was relationship he could build to keep Renjae safe and supported. they both loved and cared for that boy with the round glasses and they both wanted him safe. they both thought they knew what was best for him, and they were supposed to work as a team to do so.

but staring at this man in front of him as the door opened after a knock, he couldn’t be so certain that the mother and the not boyfriend that he was were on the same page. the immediate skewed face could have given away much, but the curiosity was at the forefront as he began to note the facial features that were borrowed from the father, and passed down to son.

Simon Muhn looked nothing at all like Kyle imagined. Though the similarities were too hard to deny. it was almost jarring as he took a cautious step backwards off the ledge of that stoop. the backpack strap looped around his shoulder and his cap pulled over his own features, he couldn’t mask the disappointment on his face. it was, after all a disappointment that couldn’t touch the disappointment the non boyfriend Renjae could be feeling. he bit his lip, wondering just why Renjae wasn’t answering the door, or Mimi for that matter. had the man already run them off? 

“I’m here to see Ren...” his gaze shifted to the side in the awkward sway for which he stood. “He’s usually home at this time, though I suppose, I should have texted before hand. I didn’t think he wouldn’t be home... C-could you tell him I came by?” 

[vicioushauntings]

simon muhn && han jae song

“I’m telling you, darling, there’s nothing for us to worry about.”

News of sacrifices had been the only thing whispered about through all of Selphia. But Simon had not taken the news to heart; where others were panicking, he sat in his living room with his current issue of The Daily Grail. Johanna’s dolls decorate the ground. “I don’t even have an official license anymore. I doubt my name is even written on the legers anymore,” He turns the page. “Oh, would you look at that. Sainte Coquille’s is having a bake sale this weekend.”

@axdently​

[vicioushauntings]

simon muhn && moon garam

For once, Simon finds his hectic household not only quiet, but empty except for himself. Jasper and Johanna have been sent outside to play with various neighborhood children than the pair insisted on befriending, and Han took his own trip to the grocery store with a long list and all. Finally, perhaps, he can sit down and get some of his extra work done. But, of course, as soon as he takes out a notepad and sists, there’s a knock at the door. He heaves a long sigh, but still brings himself back to stand in order to answer. Where he expects there to be a parent, upset that Jasper bit someone or that Johanna pulled someone else’s hair, instead stands a younger, unfamiliar girl. “Sorry,” His head shakes, and he starts to go and close the door back. “I’m not looking to buy anything.”

@dolhovse​

[vicioushauntings]

moon da hyun && simon muhn

Once upon a time, weekends were spent sleeping in. But those days were surly past Simon now. By the time the sun had risen, he had taken his third mug of coffee. There were lesson plans to create for the following semester, on top of his own research deadlines. Not to mention shopping for Johanna and Jasper, wrapping their gifts, and then hiding them all well enough to ensure neither twin tore into their gifts early.

He’d never been excited for the holidays before becoming a father. But now, he did enjoy watching their faces beam with each gift. He just wished they were neater with unwrapping his presents. Perhaps when they were older, they would admire his careful wrapping job.

The stirring he hears in the back bedroom signals one of them must be waking up shortly, so Simon conceals the wrapping paper once again, then trades out his slippers to take a few letters to the mailbox. That is when he nearly trips over an old friend on his doorstep; if it weren’t for the thin railing, he would be face first in the frozen ground. Once he gathers his balance once more, Simon fixates on the object that tripped him: an old, worn stuffed lion. The color had since faded in the twenty years since Simon had truly last seen it, but even he can still recognize his own handiwork with the magic.

And then he recalls how he’d seen something oh-so-similar on the floor of his office, just weeks prior.

With no intention of returning his old work back to the young man, Simon pockets the stuffed animal into his robe, drops the letters in the mailbox, and returns to his home without a second thought.

@morxtorium​

[vicioushauntings]

@choixander​

SIMON MUHN && LEX CHOI

Simon considers himself a regular at the library. Being a researcher at the local university meant he needed lots and lots of history books and primary documents. Over the years, he’s grown very well acquainted with many of the library staff, not only to utilize their assistance but to ensure them that, yes, he knows what he’s doing and can properly care for old documents and they don’t have to stand over his shoulder and worry about him stealing or ruining primary documents.

But in the library that morning, while he is confronted by a familiar face, it’s not one he expected to be standing behind the front counter.

“Mr. Choi?” 

Not often does Simon recall the name of his former students, but Alexander had been stellar in his class, so much to the point that Simon wished he’d continue in his classes...only to learn some weeks later that he’d left the school altogether. While working in the library was admirable...Simon still frowns upon seeing him.

“Is this really what you left school for?” He asks. “To become...a simple book clerk?”

@choixander​

[vicioushauntings]

simon muhn && song min

“Thank you,” Simon starts. He holds the door open to the antique shop for Min to follow behind him. “For coming with me, I mean,” In the middle of the week, the antique shop doesn’t appear busy, with just the owner and another patron or two milling around the thick layers of dust and cobwebs. “Specifically, I’m on the hunt for a large fish tank. But really, I’ll take a look at anything that appears to be of decent quality or high value,” He says. “Have you ever been antiquing before?” He realizes Min is quite literally older than many - if not all - of the pieces present in the shop, but that doesn’t mean she suddenly knows what sort of thing to look for when purchasing something that will continue to last.

@ofthcshvdes​

[vicioushauntings]

moon dae hyun && simon muhn

For the past month, Simon has watches the leaves outside shed their green coats in favor of a curling red and a crackling orange and a comforting brown. From his office window, he watches as rain pellets the ground. Nat King Cole’s Sincerely album plays from the record player he was gifted some years prior. He watches as students race in the rain to class using books and backpacks as makeshift umbrellas.

Simon returns to his work.

His desk is not as organized as he wished it to be. Research notes from sort of music box that Gilbert has been blabbing about sit on top of everything else - and Simon is not in the mood to do a job with fewer leads and long months abroad. He’s not the eighteen-year-old who thoughtlessly agreed to a contract with a Dreamshade anymore; there are more important responsibilities at hand. Like the bracelet he has sitting on a simple white towel that has been tugging at him for months. A magnifying glass shows up the feint markings of magic imprinted into the old metal. Despite its years, the bracelet still glitters as though it were made just yesterday, but he had an archaeologist confirm the techniques used to make the bracelet dated at least three hundred years prior.

The thick gloves he wears to handle cursed objects snap to his wrists when someone knocks on the door to his stuffy office. Annoyed at the sudden interruption ( truthfully, this is what he gets for taking solace in his office as opposed to alongside his coworkers in the lab ), Simon pulls the cloves back off and stands to answer the door.

“...Do you need some help with something?” He asks, staring at the young man from the doorframe. He doesn’t seem like a student - but then again, Simon couldn’t always recall those he’d taught in past semesters. His own eyes narrow. “My office hours are posted online and I’d appreciate it if you followed that schedule or set up a meeting with my email as opposed to showing up unannounced.”

@morxtorium​

[vicioushauntings]

han jae song && simon muhn

Han has him pinned to the bed. His lips are stuck to Simon’s throat, and his teeth have dug into his neck. If it were anyone else, Simon would have thrashed around for freedom. But he’s the one who invited Han here. He knew what Han wanted. And there was only one way to give it to him without endangering their children any further.

Simon staves off any thoughts of selfishness; Jasper and Johanna would certainly be safer with Han not in the picture. But they both loved their father dearly — and this seemed to be the best medium for them all. Simon, a human blood bag, for Han Jae Song.

Despite the pressure, and the pain, present in the base of his throat, Simon only stirs when he hears footsteps down the hall — a sign that one, or perhaps both, twins have awoken to discover the plethora of gifts carefully arranged under the tree.

“Han —“ His voice croaks between the bubbles of blood. “Han, you have to stop — enough —“ They, after all, couldn’t risk ruining the holiday by letting their children know that Daddy intended to eat Dad for breakfast.

@axdently​

[vicioushauntings]

song min && simon muhn

When it comes to the safety of his children, Simon would burn bridges and move mountains. All too well did he know what it was like growing up without someone caring about you, unwanted, forgotten. While he’d never planned on having children of his own, he found himself overly protective of the two that, quite literally, miraculously appeared on his doorstep. Both he and Han had noticed the increase of her odd behaviors lately – the way she picked at her food, the dark bags under her eyes that were heavier than any six-year-old ever needed to carry…Simon knew he needed to look into what – or who – had begun causing her problems.

So. Naturally. Simon sought out a mercenary. If there was a teacher or another adult at or near her school that was harming her…Simon would see to it that they no longer would come near her, or anyone else, ever again.

Seeing Min in his dining room isn’t what he would call a pleasant surprise. Having a killer standing where his children eat and do their homework and where he prepares his dinner isn’t exactly what he considers a pleasant afternoon. Simon looks at her briefly, then rests his suitcase on the kitchen table. “So?” He starts. “Is that little problem of mine all taken care of?”

@ofthcshvdes​​

[vicioushauntings]

HAN JAE SONG && SIMON MUHN;; THERE ARE NO STRINGS ON ME

For one moment, Simon stands in a room so blindingly white he can hardly see - the color would make Han sick, he knows, but when Simon looks over his shoulder, he finds himself alone. The voice that calls out to him seems to come from nowhere. He reaches for a single door and, within an instant, finds his hand on the handrail of the stairs leading to the home Han owned years prior.

“Han?” Simon feels compelled to call out from the pit of his belly. His feet move for him. He’s done this dance before. “I was waiting fer you t’come back,” When had he been drinking? His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. He sways forward and nearly tumbles off the steps — but then there’s Han, ready to catch him, and hold him, and keep him close. Just as he always had. Just as Simon always wanted him to.

“She’s gone. Out of the picture. I don’t wanna see her ever again,” Although his head shakes with insistence, Simon can’t rid himself of familiarity. He’d said this before. He’d done this before - Han already belonged to him and he already belonged to Han. What else was there?

Simon grips onto Han as if they don’t have two children that require their undivided attention at home. In fact, neither Jasper nor Johanna came to mind. Simon clung to Han as though he was the only thought in the world, the only person who mattered. “Han,” Simon’s knuckles turn white. “I’m sorry for making you wait for so long. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Will you still take me as I am? Will you still have me?”

@axdently​

[vicioushauntings]

SIMON MUHN && GILBERT GLADSTONE

Having been a medium for most of his life, Simon held an intimate familiarity with odd sounds in the night. Sleeping through them is impossible, but he has since learned the difference between sounds that were true causes of concern and sounds that were nothing more than ghosts begging for his attention. Sleep hadn’t found him that particular night, as it so seldomly did - and a stirring at his door doesn’t raise immediate bells. With Han snoozing at his side, Simon does not even open an eye…not until the floorboards creak. He assumes Johanna - a nightmare about the monster at the end of the hall again - but the continuing footsteps are far heavier than the five-year-old.

The moment Gilbert speaks his name, Simon begins to draw himself away from his cocoon of blankets.

“Hold – hold on. Gilbert. Gilbert –” He rubs his eyes. “You have to slow down. What…what is going on? The moon? Why…why are you here?”

@chocalafolie​

[vicioushauntings]

SIMON MUHN && @mellanchcly​ ;; THERE ARE NO STRINGS ON ME

The dream is always the same; Simon opens a door, finds himself holding the handrail of a stairway, and then he dies in the street. When he comes to, he’s back in front of a door. Then the handrail. Then dead in the street. How many times had he died? When would the loop end? He bleeds out in the street and wonders if stopping the cycle is even possible; if this is just the price he must pay for accepting the Boundary’s offer.

And then he comes to again.

Only this time, Han does not greet him at the bottom of the steps late at night; a woman, rather, meets his dark gaze. What happened? What is different about this loop?

He stumbles backwards, drunk on alcohol he only has a memory of tasting. “Don’t come any closer --” Both hands wave in defense. How would he die this time? Bleeding out in the street at the hands of someone else? Did his dreams have another horror left for him? “Don’t touch me --”