#technically 'grieving the not dead' would be more accurate but i like the sound of undead better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

axl-reality · 3 years

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Sky Telephone

Right in the middle of the sea of white clouds lies a black phone booth. Inside the booth, a white telephone, much like the ones the world of the living uses, is there. It has no wires connected to it but every now and then it rings. The soul, whose call belongs to, will be summoned before it. Most souls received at least one call. Amemura Ramuda... the rest of the Amemura Ramudas... do not belong to that group of lucky people.

Created to fulfil and to perish for that single one function, they have no parents or siblings who will grieve for them. There was one however, but he is not their sibling or anything like that but a part of the same person — eldest one.

He remembers everyone that passed, every part of him that met their end due to a predetermined fate. He cried silent tears for them, the only one who could. He may not dwell on their passing that much, but he never treated them as a separate entity from his own. Their sins are also his, he carried the burden 'til rest of his days.

For sure his friends grieve for him, hopefully his previous teammates and the rest of Shibuya, too. He never expects them to give him a call though, he'd rather see them living the most out of their lives not wallow in pain of losing a friend forever. And yet, he finds himself standing before the ringing phone that only has a receiver.

Someone giving him a one-way call makes his now empty chest a familiar squeeze. Who might it be? Gentaro? Dice?

Grabbing the handset, he placed the receiver close to his ear. A rich voice echoes. A soothing voice that never fails to calm his senses at the same time sends his heart into great turmoil.

[Hello, Amemura-kun. How are you?]

Why of all the people is Jakurai calling him?

[Things have been slowing down at the hospital and I am able to take a break... technically nagged into taking one.] Jakurai starts telling his day, much like the talks Ramuda always begged for him to do. [Hifumi and Doppo won't stop telling me I should rest and so I thought I would give you a phone call today.]

This sure brings back memories of those countless outings, dates and excursions. Those bright and warm days Ramuda longed to return to. They fill the former fashion Designer with so much glee and giddiness, feelings he never knew he would miss now that he's gone. Even if he's still back there, he doubts he can feel the same amount of bliss as those moments hold.

[I had a haircut. Perhaps after having it stuck through various places, I decided that it became too much to maintain.] Ramuda's attention snaps back at Jakurai. The Jinguji Jakurai who, no matter how many limbs and things get stuck in his hair never cut it, is now having his locks cut short? What?! [Or so I thought the reason is really that. I know how much you loved my long hair, right in the deepest parts of my mind, perhaps I hope you would come and attack me with your most venomous phrases. I would love to hear your voice, even if it'll end badly for me.]

Jakurai pauses again as the sound of something scratching through fabric Ramuda recognizes as someone looking for something in their bag. His voice broke towards the end of his speech, is there something blocking Jakurai's throat?

[I cleaned my house earlier and found the bag that had been a victim of your ruthless world coloring. I also found some patches lying around so I added them on.] The Doctor swiftly changes the topic, averting his eyes from the emotions that came with it. Ramuda too, decides to store the feelings away for the meantime to listen to him. [It isn't that hard to sew patches. Even so, your hands are always wounded by the time you finish adding some to this bag. Why is that?]

"It's because my hand is too clumsy to hold a needle," the former fashion Designer answers. For once, he believed Jakurai would somehow arrive at the insanely correct and accurate answer as he always does. The man always figured him out, there's no way he would fail to notice the real reason. "I lied, okay? It's always because I get conscious whenever you watch me with those eyes filled with interest."

Except at this moment, Jakurai didn't know the reason behind Ramuda's clumsiness. [I guess I will never know.] Rather, he's no longer there to give him a clue for Jakurai to figure out what his reasons are.

Ramuda freezes. The truth he always shunned away comes back haunting him.

He has already passed away. Gone from the world of the living. But the bonds he forged will always bring pain and other complicated feelings once severed, both to the ones left behind and the ones who left.

He has unknowingly shut his heart off from the emotions he doesn't know how to process that it never dawned on him earlier that there are things he can never do again, people he can never be with once more. He left far too many things unfinished, left Jakurai hanging with no way to fix anything. He ran away, still running away up to this point. Ramuda is already dead but he feels like dying once again.

[Come back] Jakurai's voice rings too meek, small and aching. How many times does he plan to murder Ramuda with feelings and that longing voice? [Come back to me, Ramuda-kun. Please, I will not overlook things again. I will listen to you; I won't condemn you again without putting myself in your shoes. Please. Please, please, please Ramuda-kun, come back to me.]

"Ja... Jakurai...!" Ramuda cries out, as loud as he can, hoping that his voice can reach his beloved's ears. There's no way it'll go through as the phone has no transmitter and yet he yells. "I want to come back to Jakurai, too! I want to fix things up between us!

"I'm sorry I pushed you away! I am so scared, hurt. I don't want to get hurt again! BUT THE TRUTH IS I WISH I HUGGED YOU INSTEAD! I MISS YOUR WARMTH! AND I REALLY, BADLY WANTED TO KISS YOU!"

He knows everything is too late, that he will carry this added burden until he and Jakurai reunite. He can't even figure his feelings out. He just wants to see Jakurai. Again. If it's not possible, at least, please let them talk.

Ramuda never wished for something to happen so bad tears just flowed down his cerulean eyes. Just this once, please! Perhaps now that he's closer to the divine, his prayers are finally answered.

[R-Ramuda-kun?] A bewildered Jakurai asks through the line.

"You can hear me?" Ramuda asks. Is he imagining things or did Jakurai—

[Yes, Is this really you?]

"Yep!" Ramuda beams, smiling through the tears no longer of sadness but of joy. "The one and only, Shibuya's Idol Amemura Ramuda!" As he finishes his impromptu intro, he hears something dropping on the other side of the line that sounds like a man collapsing on his illegally long legs and knees. "Jakurai?"

[I love you Ramuda-kun.] Jakurai suddenly bLurts out. [I really do. I will love you for the rest of my life!]

Even if the confession is sudden, it never felt weird or surprising. It has always been an open secret that none of the two dared to openly discuss.

"I know," he gives him an airy laugh. "But Jakurai, it's really funny that you're confessing to a dead person."

[It is but h-how about you? Are you also...?]

Eh? He asks for Ramuda's response now?

"I hate you. I loathe you until here in the afterlife..." Voice dropping down a few octaves, he answers with such venom poisonous enough to hear the other man gasp. A sly grin curves on Ramuda's lips, knowing that he still has these convincing acting skills. "...is not what you should be hearing. I wanted to look after you, get cherished by you, destroy you and even bury you with my own hands.

"You gave me complex feelings I can't understand well. I thought you broke me with them but you made me human instead. Thank you.

"I don't know what I am feeling for you is what humans define as love though. But, if wanting to still be alive and being given one last time just to see you can be considered as love, then I really, really, really love Jakurai."

Ah, the words he never got to say flowed from his lips to the transmitter to be received by Jakurai. It feels light, like he finally admitted something important, acknowledged. He can let go of it at the same time hold on to a promise it also brings.

"I can't be there with you anymore but I will be waiting for you here instead. Let's go on dates again. Ah don't come here too soon though. Grow so, so, so old like the coot that you are. I don't want to see your face until you're all wrinkly and dry."

[Ramuda-kun...]

"Don't show that shortened hair to me, I will push you down to hell if I see it." Jakurai finally laughs. Ramuda missed it dearly but he knows he'll hear it live and personal after this miraculous call ends. "So, Jakurai, you can hang up now. We'll see each other again."

[See you, Ramuda-kun.]

Peeling the handset off him and placing it back to its holder, Ramuda finds himself transported back where his other selves are. He holds his hood in place as a strong gust of wind sweeps anything it comes into contact with. Ramuda smiles, peering into the endless sea of clouds. He's a man on a new mission — to look for the best spots to hold dates.

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic ramuda #hypnosis mic jakurai #jakurai x ramuda #jakurai jinguji #Ramuda Amemura #angst #reconciliation #closure #open ended kinda #drabble

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jefferyryanlong · 5 years

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Fresh Listen - Medeski Martin & Wood, End of the World Party (Just in Case) (Blue Note Records, 2004)

(Some pieces of recorded music operate more like organisms than records. They live, they breathe, they reproduce. Fresh Listen is a periodic review of recently and not so recently released albums that crawl among us like radioactive spiders, gifting us with superpowers from their stingers.)

I was gifted a copy of Medeski Martin & Wood’s End of the World Party (Just in Case) right after Christmas. I spent and hour or so on New Year’s Day 2019 absorbing the album onto my brain material, synching the regulated rhythms of my circulations to its beats, while taking a run up the Valley of the Temples in Kaneohe. In those green hills, where gravestones in the short grass reflected dull sunlight and sepulchers and tombs stood forlorn behind gates and at the end of paved walkways, I felt that the record, through its instrumental soul-funk numbers, sought to reiterate the impending collective mortality that all of us, including the animal life and vegetation that propagate just on the periphery of our attention, must embrace--the covering over of eyes and mouths with rust and dust, the withering of appendages into basic molecular structures to float forever. Running past cars and families and graves and flowers on plastic stands stuck into the ground, I was surrounded by the living and the dead.

On that New Year's Day I was moved, as I had been in New Year’s past, by the pitiless sweep of existence, that wave that pushes spirits out from bodies and transforms bodies into useless, dumb matter. I like to think that I caught just the edge of that wave, some brush of it against my calf as I ran, but I know such awareness is only granted to those who have linked hands with the Death Angel and allowed themselves to be led away. I stopped for a moment at the edge of Ocean View Terrace, an elevated monument to the dead a the foothills of the majestically ridged Ko’olaus, from which, through the trees far beyond, sightless, buried eyes might look upon the distant water. I put my hands on my knees and breathed as if I’d never tasted the air before.

“Anonymous Skulls” is all we can expect to be when our ruins are discovered by subsequent civilizations, those peoples or beings who will undoubtedly be bewildered by out bizarre ways--our preoccupation with money and status, our obsession with youth, our language that is communicated with such a degree of subjectivity as to be meaningless from occasion to occasion. Medeski Martin & Wood’s first track from End of the World Party throws vocoder-ized synths, layered as grieving voices of women, over a backbeat of marked time pushing forward into that narrowing portal of the future. End of the World Party is a more cleanly produced record, overall, than the group’s 2006 release with John Scofield, Out Louder, most of the smeared textures of Scofield’s electric work absent. “Toxic,” the Britney Spears hit that released a year prior to End of the World Party, informs the opening to the album’s title track, maybe a reference to the commercial music of the period, which would seemingly soundtrack the inevitable armageddon. With its drenched keyboards evoking guitar tones, I thought “Reflector” more accurately fit the mold of a party track--a mirror image of our wasted time in oblivion rendered in sound, all of it without the benefit of a memento mori to foretell our doom.

In order to fully understand the context of “Bloody Oil”, the rumbling stand-up bass dirge led by Chris Wood, you have to transport your consciousness back to 2004. The Bush/Cheney era, the disruption of the Middle East, Halliburton, Black Water, oil fields on fire in the deserts of Iraq. In 2004, much like the present moment, it seemed we were near the end of a polluted world, its core honey-combed by ceaseless drilling, its air and water saturated with the by-products of oil consumption. All of us then were acutely aware of the visible symptoms of a sick environment, over-peopled by bad actors.

Contrasted to “Bloody Oil” is “New Planet,” an optimistic, upbeat number that counters the dour gravitas of the preceding track. For a few minutes sonic space textures and synth beeps engage the listener in the excitement of an undiscovered frontier, a place to populate with our imaginations. Toward the end, though, the grows somber, desolate, as if the planet we found to inhabit grows small in our vision as we pull away from it, its crust collapsing upon itself, its resources all sucked out, a lifeless husk.

The second half of End of the World Part (Just in Case) veers away from the themes implied by its title, though the band carries forward the continuity of the overall sound. “Mami Gato” is a technically proficient exercise on piano, a workout lacking in the aural sweatiness of Out Louder. Like many other songs on the record, the song’s coda over the last few minutes is a departure--in this case, the song transitions to a kind of nouveau old-world cocktail jazz, that sound that arises behind your head when you think upon cigarettes in holders and women in hats and carefully parted and combed hair and spats and absinthe fountains. “Shine It” is boilerplate blues-funk, while “Curtis” is refreshingly the dirtiest sounding the band gets, all distorted wah-wah's and uptight bass. “Sasa” could be a Beastie Boys instrumental from The In Sound from Way Out!, except Medeski Martin & Wood are less nasty in the pocket, and really know how to hang int there. With its dreamy, noir-ish beginnings, “Midnight Poppies/Crooked Birds” emerges from an electric slumber to an askew melody with backwards bass loops and sqauwkbox keyboards.

Cool virtuosity defines End of the World Party (Just in Case). It is the sound of polished musicians playing polished music. As instrumentalists, Medeski Martin & Wood don’t struggle against one another; rather, they impeccably complement one another, from note to note, rhythm to rhythm. As affirming as the music is, I had to wonder--what would the end of the world really sound like? The implosion of hundreds of bunkers and bases and factories? The sustained pained creak of splitting wood as a tree slowly collapses? The cry of a shambling animal? When the end of the world truly does come, will we have time to put to use what we’ve practiced, will we have the fortitude to help each other, or will we kill our neighbors lest we die ourselves, and rend our clothes and weep? What will that sound like?

#freshlisten #medeskimartin&wood #endoftheworldparty

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fanfictionconnectionwordpress · 7 years

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Mystic Messenger Fanfiction | JuminxMC Good Ending Continued | Denial

***I think I'm finally back! We have finally closed on my house in Texas after months of issues, and my grandmother has been laid to rest peacefully next to my grandfather as it should be. Grieving comes and goes, but I finally feel like I'm getting back into the groove of life, so I'm hoping I haven't lost all of you in the meantime T_T. The final chapter of JuminxMC should be next week! I'll then take a week off to prepare for SevenxMC!

Don’t forget to subscribe to the email list for access to R-Rated Scenes and my monthly newsletter. You can support my writing on patreon and get access to my VIP Discord Server or other goodies like early chapter releases and hidden scenes. JuminxMC Good Ending Continued Chapter Directory ~Let’s Connect! FFC***

There was something so strange about watching this woman from behind a piece of glass. She’d been trying to trick my husband into taking down the entirety of the RFA as well as our guests, and when she hadn’t gotten what she wanted, she’d put my life and the life of our second child at risk. Rika. I bit at my thumb nail as I looked through the glass as her. V and all the other ‘Disciples’ had been taken care of and sent to treatment along with Seven’s twin brother. Not long after, Seven had taken his brother from treatment at the hospital and run off with him. Yoosung was distraught, and he was here almost every day with Rika. It wasn’t until I’d gotten a call from a concerned Seven that I considered going to this hospital, but he was right, Yoosung needed someone, and he couldn’t be there for the blond right now.

I wasn’t sure why the task had fallen to me, and I was technically supposed to be on bedrest, but my heart went out to the younger man. He was a member of the RFA and Jumin always said it was important to take care of your friends and fellow members were even more important. My husband was always so practical about this kind of thing. He’d insisted I stay home and simply have Yoosung come to me, but as soon as he’d left for work, I had one of the bodyguards take me to the mental hospital, assuring him that I wouldn’t tell my husband which of the guards it had been who took me there.

Zen and Jaehee weren’t much help really either since Jaehee was trying to deal with the media hailstorm and Zen was helping her with whatever he could. That was somewhat strange to me. Zen was a helpful man as it was, and he did hate how much work Jaehee tended to get piled on herself, but he was really going out of his way for her. Maybe there was something more there than met the eye, just like Seven and Yoosung. Other than Jumin and I, it seemed all of the RFA was off having secret relationships when it came to the public eye.

Rika was walking around aimlessly at the moment and then suddenly she slammed her fists against the glass. “I know you’re out there~ Please, please let me out! I have to save everyone from her! She’s a liar!” The doctors had mentioned that Rika kept attempting to entice them to set her free, had even tried to grab a nurse’s syringe and stab her with it to escape, but she tended to play word games, and she was blaming me for everything. This was part of why I felt like I had rocks in my stomach, even though I knew I only had our second daughter and a perfectly cooked lunch, as always. Yoosung seemed to be shutting himself off to only contact with Rika and Seven, and that could only spell bad news, because he was even starting to pay less attention to the redhead too.

I heard the door open behind me and turned to see the blond walking into the hallway, violet eyes falling on me almost immediately and then turning cold. “MC.” He didn’t seem at all like his cheery self, not even for a moment, and the way he was looking at me actually felt like it made my heart stop in fear for a solid few seconds. I put on the bravest smile I could manage. “Yoosung! It’s good to see you again. I heard you were visiting Rika and wanted to come see you.”

He actually narrowed his eyes at me. It was very likely that he believed whatever stories Rika was telling him, and if so, then there had to be some way for me to get Rika to tell him the truth? I’d managed it when I walked in on her talking to Jumin and foiled her plans. Of course, that would be some shock therapy, because her attitude was completely different when she wasn’t pretending, but maybe it would break Yoosung out of whatever she was telling him now? “Maybe we should both head in to talk to Rika?”

Yoosung’s eyebrows furrowed, but he just nodded numbly before walking to the door where a nurse was waiting to let him in already, I just followed along. “Just don’t say anything mean to her. She’s trying to get better.” For the first time that day, Yoosung had talked to me, and I counted that as a win even despite the fact that he was being supportive of a person the doctors were saying they were pretty certain had actually been fully aware of what she was doing when she kidnapped and drugged all of those people. I just nodded to what the blond had said.

The way Rika’s eyes lit up upon seeing Yoosung and then dulled as I walked in made me shiver to my core, and the baby jumped in my belly in response before I patted it and Rika’s eyes flashed between my belly and my face. “I see she’s still breeding. Her hooks are so deep into Jumin, Yoosung, why would you bring her here?” Her voice was so sickly sweet, and Yoosung actually sounded nervous and apologetic as he responded. “I’m sorry, Rika! Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s just a huge misunderstanding. You’re just sick, and you’re going to get better. MC will help too! She’s not like V.”

Right, I was painted as the bad guy from Rika’s point of view, V included, but at least Yoosung had the sense to believe that I wasn’t the problem and that was a start. How long did I sit there listening to Rika’s little pleasantries and fake kindness before she would start to slip in snide and rude remarks? Each time she did so, it was like Yoosung would emotionally recoil as though slapped. It hurt him to see her not getting better, because she wasn’t just sick, she knew what she was doing. That much was obvious, but Yoosung was so far in denial, clinging to the hope that she would get better and be the woman he’d once admired. Was there really anything anyone could do to break him out of that?

Suddenly, Rika grabbed Yoosung’s hands, leaning over the table and making frightened glances my way. “Don’t you see, Yoosung? She’s being so sweet, but she’s hiding the truth! MC is going to take you all away from me. It was V’s plot from the beginning!” Yoosung was about to shake his head and deny it before Rika let go of his hands and turned on me, trying to get at me from her side of the table as I scooted back in my chair as quickly as I could with my heavy belly. There was a loud booming noise as the door slammed open. This was too much stress for me, and I felt like I was going to hyperventilate before I saw that it was my husband standing in the doorway.

Jumin’s dark grey eyes slid over all of us, surveying the situation and looking like a supervisor barging into the breakroom. “That’s enough, now, Rika.” His tones were so dark and cold like when he had to reprimand workers at his job that it felt like my comparison was accurate. Yoosung stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he faced Jumin. “You can’t just come in here! She doesn’t want to see you.” That was true, he’d been barred by Rika, but then again. “She didn’t want to see MC either, but you brought her. You’re just trying to find the truth, right Yoosung? Except you’re trying to find the truth that you want.”

My husband’s observation was spot on and Yoosung made soft little attempts at protests before he looked between all three of us. “I just…Wanted…MC isn’t a bad person…” Jumin sighed heavily and crossed his arms, his fingers tapping lightly against his sleeves. I was certain that he had realized I was gone after trying to text me and not receiving any answer since my phone was off in the hospital entrance. His eyes slid over me, and I could see his displeasure, but he looked back towards Rika who was starting to make a fuss again, her eyes wild. “We’re the only ones who know the truth, Yoosung! Don’t you see?!”

Yoosung immediately made a move as though to comfort her, but my husband reached out and pushed him away from the now shrieking and panicking woman. That was enough to make Yoosung angry as he pushed against Jumin’s arm to get over to Rika, but Jumin ended up moving to hold the younger and smaller man from behind. “Let me go!” was mirrored by Rika shrieking for Yoosung to be let go as well until Jumin called out over them. “I said enough.”

The world quieted, and I simply sat there watching, my mouth completely dry. What could I even do? I was just a spectator at the end of the day. Rika had seemed to completely shed her veneer as she huffed and her eyes glazed over to that lightless look, her voice smooth and soft like syrup. “I simply can’t stand up to you, Jumin.” Yoosung had stopped fighting Jumin, but now dropped his arms from Jumin’s completely, a look of confusion crossing his face. “Rika?”

Rika picked at her wrists for a moment before she turned her back to us, looking at us in the reflection on the window. “Yoosung won’t leave me no matter what you say to him, so no matter how hard you try, he’ll always be mine.” Jumin let go of Yoosung slowly as he started to blabber. “Of course I won’t leave you, Rika. You’re the best person I’ve ever known.” It almost seemed like Rika was in some sort of mental break as she started to babble too, grating laughs interrupting every once in a while. “All my Disciples weren’t even as loyal as Yoosung and Saeran…I should have brought Yoosung with me too! But V wouldn’t let me take the RFA, that’s why he pretended I was dead! He ruined everything.”

At this point, I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying. Instead, I was watching Yoosung’s face as the denial was starting to shatter. It was almost impossible to keep denying the truth when she was spitting it out right in front of you. At first, he was shaking his head, mumbling that she was sick, but she’d replied that she wasn’t, that that was how she wanted it, her darkness that V had tried to get rid of or something of that manner, and Yoosung went silent. Tears built in his eyes, but he just stared in silent horror now. He took a step back, forgetting that Jumin was behind him and bumping into my husband who was watching with a stoic expression. Yoosung turned to look up at Jumin, looking over at me then, and taking off into the hallway through the still open door as the tears started to fall from those violet eyes.

All of his denial had been shattered, and I could hear him crying so hard as he banged on the hallway door to be let out. “We should go after him-“ Jumin sent me a glare that froze my blood. It wasn’t the norm for him to be so angry with me as well, but he clearly was. “I’ve already called Zen to take him to Seven’s bunker. He has to deal with his brother, but he can’t abandon Yoosung either.” Rika was still going off on her tangent in the background, only now realizing we weren’t paying her any attention, so now she lunged towards me in the chair only to be backhanded by Jumin, stepping back to hold her cheek. “Nurse!”

At his call, a nurse appeared almost immediately, but I didn’t get much chance to see what else was happening before Jumin took my hand and pulled me out into the corridor. He was gentle and careful as always, but his grip was tighter than usual, and he was silent until we got into the car waiting for us out front. “You lied to me and put yourself in danger, our child in danger.” His tone was so cold, and I put my hands over my belly. “You know that bedrest is just because we had such a hard labor with our first daughter, not because I actually need it.” Jumin just huffed at my explanation, fixing his cufflinks. His façade was up, but now it faded as he stopped messing with them. “Don’t you understand…I was afraid?”

I bit at the inside of my cheek, feeling a pain in my chest. Only I ever got to see him so vulnerable, and I knew that it would worry him when I wasn’t where I was supposed to be, but I had been so focused on helping Yoosung. “I’m sorry…Yoosung needed help…and I didn’t realize how much I would hurt you.” Jumin looked towards me, our eyes locking for a solid few minutes, saying things we never could verbally. This man loved me so deeply, needed me to help him know that the world wasn’t made up of only liars, that it was okay to truly care for other people and show them that too, and I loved him so deeply too.

With another deep sigh, Jumin scooted towards me in the seat, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his chest as he put his face in my hair. “Don’t ever do that to me again, MC.” Being in his arms felt so safe and easily made any stress melt away, even if I still felt horribly guilty. “Promise me.” Could I really promise that I would never do something similar? “I can promise to never lie to you again…but I’ll always choose to help people.” I could almost feel the little chuckle that didn’t quite escape his lips. “I understand. That’s the type of woman I fell in love with. I just never expected it to become such a problem. I’m almost jealous when you choose to help others over listening to me, even in my own route.”

At heart, Jumin really was just a big softie. I nuzzled into his chest, feeling our child moving around and taking his hand to place it over the baby as well. He splayed his fingers over my belly automatically, a familiar feeling and something he did daily. “But I’ll always come back to you. You’re the man I chose.” Jumin kissed the top of my head. “I’ll take better care of you from now on.”

He pulled away from me to look down in to my eyes. “And I’ll do the same.” On some level, it was almost ominous when he talked about taking better care of me, because I knew that would mean him trying to set new rules and stipulations out of fear for me getting hurt or something happening to his now happy family of four, but that was a challenge I would always have to deal with, and I couldn’t help but smile and give him a soft kiss. There was no denying that I loved this man.

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#jumin x mc #juminxmc #jumin han #jumin han fanfiction #jumin fanfiction #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #jumin han mystic messenger #jumin mystic messenger #fanfictionconnection

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