musings

❆ ┊ the archon's gate institution, china ; 230101。

[ ! ] mentions of blood, violence ; obsessive, toxic relationships and some other really messed up dynamics tbh


yuanbin's timid voice reaches him through the static ringing in his ears. and for a moment, sungjae listens, because deep in his heart he knew he'd do anything and everything for his precious little snow angel.

he lifts his head to look at him—and yuanbin just looks so, so frail like this—curled up with his knees pulled tightly against his chest, nothing but a quivering form desperately trying to shove himself further into the corner. sungjae reached out to him with open arms, gaze softening as he pulled him closer, wondering what had caused the boy's eyes to fill with such terror. and only when he reaches up to cup yuanbin's face, does he realize he'd stained his cheeks red with blood. his embrace, now trapping him, did nothing but frighten the poor angel even further as he surveyed the aftermath of sungjae's vengeance that surrounded them in a nauseating display of gore—a stark contrast to the deceptively innocent smile that now graced his soft features. sungjae coos at him affectionately, as though it'd provide the half-nymph any comfort, before he leans in to plant a gentle kiss to yuanbin's temple, grip steeling around his waist.

"i did this for you, bin-ah. aren't you happy?" sungjae had asked him then, voice dripping with honey, eyes shimmering with hope. nothing but beautiful specks of gold against a terrifying sea of red. in this state he looked like an innocent puppy, like one that had just brought him a gift, and was now looking for approval, affection, reassurance—anything—as long as it came from yuanbin's lips. "is it not enough?" he'd hear the other say when he doesn't respond. "just say the word, angel. and i'll make sure they all drop dead at your feet," sungjae whispers, sharp teeth glinting in the low light as he smiles, reaching up to gingerly caress the side of the younger's pallid face.

"it's okay to tell me, angel. was it researcher zhao this time around? i saw what he did to you, you know. don't think i didn't notice. but don't worry, he'll learn his lesson soon."

it was a deadly promise, and yuanbin felt his blood run cold at the thought of his guardian going after another researcher. he wanted to answer, to tell him to stop, but the words never leave him.

nonetheless, the warmth in sungjae's smile doesn't falter. he leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to yuanbin's forehead, and then another onto his bloodied cheeks, down to his quivering lips, then to the soft flesh beneath his jaw. overwhelmed by it all, yuanbin feels his eyes burn with tears. they fall unrestrained, blurring his vision, and all sungjae does is tilt his head so he could lap at them with his tongue. and after he was done, he'd continue peppering kisses all over yuanbin's face, soft and reassuring, and the younger couldn't help but lean into them despite all the alarms ringing in his head. he's eventually coaxed into relaxtion, a luxury that is immediately ripped away from him as the door opens further to reveal a team of researchers, each one looking equally as horrified as the one next to them.

the brightness of the hallway outside seeps into the room, and yuanbin immediately cowers into the safety of sungjae's arms as if he hadn't feared the man just moments ago. the almost blinding light illuminates the floor of their cell, revealing a disheveled snow angel and a very, very bloody snowstalker with his victim—or, victims, rather—all laid out around him in varying states of decay. while some remained intact, the others had clearly been taken a bite out of several times. it hadn't been too long since the last incident, so some of the kills were still quite fresh, and it seemed sungjae had been feeding on them rather slowly—displaying a surprising amount of self-restraint for reasons unknown. they were a particular selection of prey, too, and it wasn't hard to figure out what they all had in common.

they'd offended snow angel, one way or another. a̶n̶d̶ t̶h̶e̶y̶ n̶e̶e̶d̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ d̶i̶e̶.

perhaps the artifex had trained him a little too well.

"please don't hurt him," yuanbin pleads weakly from where his face was buried in the older's neck. he'd witnessed everything with his own two eyes, yet refused to let the researchers take his guardian away for reconditioning. he looked up with teary eyes as they approached anyway, and in an instant their cell raged with a full-fledged blizzard, conjured out of thin air as yuanbin held onto sungjae for dear life, shaking his head because he didn't want to let go, didn't want him to leave. the bodies on the floor had frozen solid, now partially buried in snow as a storm whirled protectively around the two. and in the haze of it, sungjae makes intense eye contact with the artifex who stood behind the observer's glass, watching them with what he could only assume was envy.

sungjae's lips curled up into a knowing grin, an otherwise innocent display of teeth if it weren't for the fact that they both knew the gesture itself was a disguised threat. he makes a show out of moving the strands of hair that covered yuanbin's nape, and with one last glance cast towards the artifex's direction, sungjae sinks his fangs into the angel's delicate flesh.

and under the skin-breaking pressure of his teeth blooms a new scar—where the artifex's white cross used to be.

claiming one of the artifex's favorite dolls right in front of him should have been a call for war, but that battle would never happen—not when sungjae was made aware of all of his weaknesses.

the wiser decision would be to surrender.

so sungjae watched as their researcher forced himself to look away, the regret seeping through the cracks of what used to be a carefully regulated facade. the artifex, now red-faced and undoubtedly furious, gathered his belongings, leaning over to mumble something into the intercom before taking his leave.

❆ ┊ seoul, south korea ; 231224。

six years have passed, and not once have the lights of seoul grown dim since he'd last saw them.

it was christmas eve, and sungjae could vaguely remember what had happened that night so many years ago. all he could recall was that the celebration never happened, the apartment had remained cold, and he knew he would never get to see his family ever again.

and now—he had lost his own brother, too.

jinsung had changed drastically from the day they were forced apart in that godforsaken facility, and sungjae had not been able to recognize him since.

the universe had taken everything from him, as if it had been longing to witness his final descent into madness. the darkness had embraced him for so long that he'd begun to feel warm under its illusion, and he would have given into its clutches if it weren't for the dying light he'd found wandering in its void. it was weak and frail, like a flame moments away from being snuffed out. that dying light came in the form of zheng yuanbin—the artifex's little angel—and sungjae's primary reason for living.

his head was currently laid in sungjae's lap, eyes closed shut yet not quite asleep. they'd been out and about not too long ago, looking for a place to sleep for the night. unfortunately they were barely scraping by with what little they earned every week, and yuanbin had long forgone feeding himself just so they could make ends meet. it pained sungjae to see him like this—starving for days so they could book themselves a cheap room for one night and not have to sleep in the alley like they usually would. It was just a small sacrifice—he'd remember him say—all for the sake of not being out on the streets during christmas eve. "you deserve to feel warm too," he'd told him just a few hours before, and yuanbin had looked so concerned for his well-being that sungjae didn't have the heart to tell him that he was incapable of feeling cold.

the younger had snuggled into his arms then, and sungjae had let him, nose pressed to his crown as he breathed him in. yuanbin felt soft and warm in his hands—happy, alive—and that was all that mattered to him.

as yuanbin slowly drifted further and further away, sungjae maneuvered him off his lap and onto one side of the bed. not having the luxury of space, he settles down on what little of it remained, locking an arm around the boy's lithe waist and pulling him close, much like a child would with their favorite stuffed bear. but unlike his charge, sungjae finds himself unable to fall asleep—not when he was made aware of how weak yuanbin's heartbeat was, of how far his skin had sunk between the gaps of his ribcage, or how he could barely even sense the elemental energy that used to flow abundantly in his veins.

a pitiful whimper leaves him as he hugged the boy even closer, pulling the other flush against his chest. sungjae felt incredibly guilty, felt responsible for his charge's declining health. it reminded him too much of the yuanbin he knew back at the facility, so eager to work himself to death just so the artifex would notice him—only for the latter to shrug him off and push him aside, which did nothing but dangerously fuel sungjae's ever growing disdain for him.

yuanbin had always been one to sacrifice things for someone's approval, and it often came at the cost of his own health. sungjae couldn't bear to see it then, and he still couldn't bear to see it now. all he ever wanted was to see h̶i̶s̶ snow angel be happy.

he'd almost lost him once before. he would not let it happen again.