joon & coraline || twitchywitchys​

coraline watched as his shoulders stiffened, her fingers immediately dancing on top of the one closest to her; a subtle attempt to ease the lovelorn male. whatever he kept buried beneath, it was clearly wearing joon down. no matter what this secret was, coraline couldn’t fathom ever leaving his side. he was just too good to her and to be honest, she liked having him around. more than she ever realized or cared to admit out loud. joon was now apart of her. a missing puzzle piece to the jigsaw called her heart.

“I know but it’s always pleasing to hear you say it.” she laughed, mimicking the excited smile he wore so happily on an otherwise confused face. “I do. I like watching the wheels in your head turn while trying to figure me out. makes me feel very powerful, knowing I have you wrapped around my finger.” she whispered, hand no longer on his shoulder but now, on his chest. her finger writing her name over where his heart should be.

— “You have me coiled around your finger like a spring,” he said. The couple came across an intersection frenetic with passing vehicles. Cars were mechanical beasts, forever a foreign contraption regardless of the fact he knew how to maneuver one. Joon’s life had been spent submerged in ocean depths, but his birth had been a brief interlude on a rocky alcove with no witnesses and no papers. He was a person who never formally existed according to the laws on land.

“Wound tight,” he teased. “Ready to be sprung.” Joon wrapped her fingers in his hand, playfully guiding them over to push the crosswalk button. Once he’d collected enough money, he’d started collecting the documents humans apparently needed to prove their personhood. The deep-sea siren had a copy of everything one needed to be human, including a paper declaring he’d been born, another assuring he’d gone to school, and one with his picture on it that stated he was fit to operate the steel beasts. 

 “What are you going to do with today’s sketches? You draw so much, if you kept everything you would be drowned in paper. How do you decide what to keep?” he asked.

joon & rowan; local dumpster || @ofghasts

— The disappearance of Josephine Alimjan rendered the office shorthanded, and he’d at last found a suitable full-in. Out of all prospective hires, her mind was perhaps the most malleable. An assistant that asked too many questions simply wouldn’t do. Joon grabbed a pair of trash can lids by the curb and smashed them together like cymbals, a makeshift alarm clock for the woman passed out amongst the trash. Unceremoniously, he dropped to them to the ground and stepped forward. 

It was dawn, and he still dripped with ocean water to a puddle by his unsure feet. Wet hair clung to his face like a poorly fitted helmet -- without his siren transformation’s allure, he was a bit of an awkward duckling on land. He hadn’t had much time to get dressed; a bathrobe stolen from one of the beach’s changing rooms would have to do until he made it to his storage unit. “You have been chosen, Rowan Rose.” he droned. “I have a proposition for you. Do you accept?” 

joon & kiki || sirencvll​

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: outside Wolf Hollow Lighthouse, March 25th. @salemstart​

Skateboarding around the pier that the lighthouse overlooked was a pre-transformation ritual that Kiki scarcely forfeited in exchange for something like dramatically laying on the shore as the tide rolled in and metamorphosed the full-bodied blonde into the siren; a disease that dissuaded her by plight of nightmares and imparted unto her nothing shy of humiliating habits; the inconvenient stumbling, the obnoxious mimicking, the interminable shivering. Boarding was one of her little pleasures, the sweet escapes she could indulge in when the sun and the horizon mingled in a dance to create the night that would forcibly plunge her beneath the depths of the mid-Atlantic and rebirth her as a creature of treacherous allure. It was this irreversible curse that kept her fears at bay where it concerned men of cloak and dagger, alike whichever eldritch being kidnapped the Alimjan sisters. They might have wielded otherworldly powers —— but so did she.

Impatiently awaiting the sunset so she could safely tuck her slate-tinted cruiser between the rock barrier and surrender herself to the sea, she sipped languidly on a Baja Blast and observed in the distance a figure approaching what she widely considered was her spanning of shoreline. “Hey there,” she spoke up, the notes in her voice intrinsically enticing, sewn by her instincts with the intent of captivation. “Whatcha doin’ out here so late? You know, there’s monsters out here yonder. Wouldn’t want you getting snatched up. That’d just be inconvenient for everyone.”

— As the sun slipped steadily below the horizon, he waded into the ocean waves until his head slipped below the surface. It was a morbid practice, scouring the ocean floor for the waterlogged corpse of his boss. Joon couldn’t identify the emotion he’d felt when news broke of Josephine Alimjan’s disappearance. 

He knew, however, that he needed to search for her.

The siren surfaced by the rock barrier. He intended to stop for a moment’s rest before continuing the search. Joon pulled himself partway up the jagged slates, stopping only when a voice called out to him. Clung to his face was stark white hair, pale as a deep sea fish’s underbelly and singed by the azure light of bioluminescence. His eyes resembled a pair of dull, tawny pebbles smoothed over by the tides. It was too late to hide his tail, but he dipped lower into the water and hoped that the dimming light would obscure what parts of him belonged to the sea. “There are a few monsters I’d still like to meet,” he said, his voice a monotonous drawl. “I could ask you the same question.”

joon & coraline || twitchywitchys​

she was taken aback by the refusal. coraline even more invested in the entity that was joon kim. for he was definitely hiding something, she just had to figure out what it was. he didn’t seem like the type of person to be afraid of the dark. so why did the night keep him at bay and at arm’s length when her own so desperately searched, reached out for him in the darkness as she became one with it? oh, this was going to drive her crazy but coraline did love a good mystery. miss marple would be proud.

“I’ll figure out your secret. then you’ll have no choice but to be seduced my allure as we make love under the moonlight.” she teased, taking the rejection in stride. and when he held her hand tightly, fingers interlocked as she was squeezed posessively; coraline felt a little better. like her disappointment had nothing to do with her and frankly, that was a damn good feeling. “throw in breakfast in bed and you’ve got yourself a deal.” she laughed, walking down the concrete steps of the library. the horizon a mix of lavender and sherbet orange. it was a shame that they had to rush home. oh how she’d love to dance with him under a midnight blue sky.

— Joon stiffened like a wooden puppet, his broad shoulders gone rigid when she called him out for having a secret. He yearned to tell her the truth, but his upbringing hadn’t included many fairytales where a siren and their human lover lived happily ever after. Almost all of them ended in death. There’d be a dead siren, a dead human, or both as a tragic lesson for those as intrigued with the surface as him. And with the sudden disappearance of his boss, life on the surface seemed dangerous as ever.

“Your allure always seduces me,” he replied. “It is quite torturous.” The hint of an excited smile snuck its way onto his otherwise bewildered face. Much of what Coraline did puzzled him; she knew the dance of humans, and he always stumbled after her trying to play along. But that -- no, that he could catch onto. Their opposing worlds had one thing in common, at least. “Do you do it on purpose?” he asked. “Do you like torturing me?” Joon squeezed her hand back, although he spared a troubled glance at the changing sky. 

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫. 𝐀 𝐛𝐨𝐲.

𝐆𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐳: 𝐀 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚: 𝐀𝐧 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥.

𝐆𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐳: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥. 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬. 𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐬𝐞. @joongular

joon & coraline || twitchywitchys​

like any artist—coraline was prone to a fixation or two. the latest one the man posed before her. she didn’t know what it was about him, what allured her to joon but coraline had to have him. at least, on paper. for he was a perfect specimen, one her readers would enjoy seeing in 2D. he had all the classical features of a leading man: expressive eyes, a grecian shaped nose, plush lips, high cheekbones, etc, etc. and of course, those adorable ears that had a habit of turning red whenever coraline complimented him. but as anyone who has ever sat through a figure drawing class knows; the longer you observe a subject, the easier it becomes to find their flaws, quirks. such as the far-off gaze in those hazel eyes, coraline curious to know where joon’s thoughts lead while she stole what essence she could for her portrait.

when finished, although she never really was; coraline stretched her tired limbs, able to feel the static against her slow reacting nerves as blood coursed to them properly. she would have argue against his noble insistence but with dollie and josephine missing, coraline accepts, needing the distraction so she doesn’t break down again in the silence of her bedroom. one of her lowest points ever. “alright, you can walk me home. hold my hand and all that romantic junk.” she teased, gathering her belongings, carefully placing them in her leather satchel. the brunette unwilling to admit she’s touched by his concern. “you can even spend the night, if you want. I would love to draw you while you sleep. or shirtless.” she added, hoisting the bag’s strap on her shoulder while holding out her hand. “come on, handsome. we’re going home.”

— “Spend the night?” he stammered. Of course he wanted to agree -- who wouldn’t, especially coming from someone as ravenous for affection as himself? Despite his monotonous, undertaker-like presence, he was still a passionate man of ardent devotion. He truly longed to see her by moonlight, by nighttime thunderstorm, by cemetery picnic for just the two of them come midnight. Yet, he always had to decline whenever the offer to spend the evening together arose. 

The minute the sun went down, he was done for. He’d have to tell her eventually, wouldn’t he?

“As much as I want to -- and truly, I do want to,” he said. “I won’t be able to stay the night.” Joon hoped that his constant declining to spend the evening together didn’t offend her. Humans were tricky enough, let alone the emotions of human women. But perhaps that was another reason why he was so drawn to Coraline in the first place: she was constantly catching him off-guard. Joon slipped their hands together, allowing his sturdy fingers to intertwine with her lithe ones. “What if I stopped by for coffee first thing in the morning?” he said. “I’ll order my coffee hot, the best temperature to throw at a kidnapper in order to stun them.”

joon & coraline; the library  || @twitchywitchys​

— For whatever reason, the woman before him was obsessed with his portrait. He’d never been the subject of anyone’s drawings in a one-on-one, intimate setting before. Joon would pose by the window, natural light diffused along the sharp slopes down from his cheekbones. Coraline’s drawings captured him in full: the roundness of his nose, the regal length of his neck, the masculine nature of his jaw. There was only one attribute that surprised him, as he’d never looked in a mirror and truly noticed it before seeing himself captured on paper.

He looked down at the sketch of him sat backwards a library chair, long arms folded atop of the chair’s backing and his chin planted firmly atop them. A quality he’d never noticed until captured by one of Coraline’s sketches was the faraway look in his eyes, a brown-eyed gaze that was always wondering and daydreaming. Is that how he looked to humans? Joon closed the sketchbook shut and handed it back to Coraline. Even more breathtaking than her beauty, perhaps, was her gift to see the world.

“Won’t you at least let me walk you home?” he asked. It was a sweet sentiment on its own, yet he couldn’t help but add an unnecessary elaboration. “A kidnapper would find it impossible to steal two people at once, especially if they’re linking arms,” he said. “Well, unless there were two kidnappers.” Joon had a tendency of doing that: providing one scenario, then immediately shooting it down with something contradictory. He glanced out the library window, knowing that he was cutting it close to sundown. But with the disappearance of his boss, he didn’t want to leave anything -- especially Coraline’s safety -- to chance.

joon & renato || solitaryspirits​

caramel apple café & bistro

“Law office of Josephine Alimjan…no, sorry, she’s not available right now. No, sorry, I’m not sure when she’ll be back…yes I can take a message…No, I don’t know when I can let her know, she’s…er, sort of…sir? Hello, sir? You uh…may want to try sending her an e-mail instead…No, I understand it’s important but she’s sort of –”

Ren pulls his work phone away from his ear as soon as the gentleman on the other end begins berating him for his apparent lack of formality and rudeness to clientele. After a beat passes, he starts to draw the phone back, only to hear the man still cursing him for his too-casual tone.

He takes the opportunity to hang up the call rather than answer.

Worry has knotted his stomach since Josephine didn’t show up at her office the other morning…and his phone has seemed to ring non-stop. When would she be back? How was he supposed to know? He wants to go out and aid in any search efforts, to comb over every fallen tree and broken limb for his current employer, but his phone has, quite literally, not stopped ringing since that morning. His phone doesn’t have the chance to fade to black before another number brightens up his screen again.

“I…I can’t take another call,” His head shakes and the phone is promptly stuck face-down on the table next to Ren’s untouched lunch. “I’m sure if you answer it, you’ll have better luck than me.”

@salemstart​

— “You really want me to do it?” he asked, surprised. Joon had a monotonous drawl that better suited the role of an undertaker than personal assistant. Last he’d seen Josephine Alimjan, she’d been pinching the bridge of her nose and instructing him not to breathe so hard into the phone’s receiver. There was still much to learn about human business, so it seemed. 

Doing his best to remain both polite, yet firm to the disgruntled client on the other end, he answered the phone. “Indeed, you’ve reached the offices of Josephine Alimjan,” he said. “Miss Alimjan is indisposed at the moment. No, not decomposed. I said indisposed. Although, it’s possible she could be decomposed—hello?”

Joon held out the phone.

“She hung up,” he said. 

With the workload appearing to crush the office’s intern, he’d come prepared with a potential solution. “Naturally, one of us will have to take the lead with Miss Josephine gone,” he said. “I’m assuming it’ll be you, since you’re the only one between us who went to law school. I think we should take on a secondary assistant to help out until things die down. And since you’ll be so busy in the office, it would make sense if that assistant answered to me. For the sole purpose to keep them out of your hair, of course.”