Writing On The Body - Tumblr Posts
When it comes to allowing the dead to use him as a temporary voice, medium Min Yoongi takes personal protection very seriously. He starts every day with a visit to Kim Taehyung, who inks the best body wards in the city... But what is Yoongi to do when the imprint Taehyung makes leaves Yoongi craving far more than a professional relationship?
Min Yoongi needed three things to start his day (well, night) off right.
One: Coffee.
No matter how many years he’d worked the night shift, part of his brain craved a daily dose of (at least indirect) sunlight. The dead, however, didn’t feel the same. They came alive—for lack of a better term—after dark. And as a court-appointed civil medium with a master’s degree in spiritual diversity and social work, the dead and dead adjacent were his clientele.
Yoongi’s job more or less entailed helping the living make peace with the dead. Sometimes it was the other way around, though that was distinctly more dangerous. The dead weren’t quite as aware of things like boundaries and personal space as they might have been while alive. They wanted what they wanted, and sometimes they decided to just take it. Which led to…
Two: Music.
He carried the best headphones his money could buy. The very visible, over the ear, noise-canceling variety, because the dead noticed when they were noticed. Inevitably, in a city of ten million-plus, in a peninsular country ravaged by historical wars—there were a lot of dead to contend with. He’d learned how to stare into the middle distance, as though never really focused on much of anything. And the dead gave off a low radiance, a sort of glow that made them very easy to visually spot.
Sound on the other hand—well, it wasn’t easy to ignore sounds he didn’t see the immediate source of. More than one spirit had caught him off guard that way, and involuntary possession sucked ass. At best, he lost a few hours. At worst—well, he hadn’t experienced the worst. He’d lost coworkers who had, though.
Which brought him to the final and most recent ingredient of his daily ritual…
8.6K | complete
Mature
M/M
Oof... there’s a long way to go here. But my first story went someplace unexpected and magical... and I’ll probably not even come close to a bingo, because I have TOO MANY IDEAS.
Still...
IMPRINT / 8.6K, mature
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436415
When it comes to allowing the dead to use him as a temporary voice, medium Min Yoongi takes personal protection very seriously. He starts every day with a visit to Kim Taehyung, who inks the best body wards in the city... But what is Yoongi to do when the imprint Taehyung makes leaves Yoongi craving far more than a professional relationship?
Vante’s Body Shop.
To the uninformed, it sounded like a place to get a car fixed, or maybe—given its quaint semi-basement location beneath a chic eatery in Hongdae—a discreet adult store or spa. It was actually home to the best body ward witch in all of Seoul. If not for the recommendation of his best friend and Seoul police detective, Kim Namjoon, Yoongi might never have known what a difference a body ward could make, especially for a medium. Now, Vante’s was the place he visited every day he worked to magically “armor up” before his shift. His work paid better than average for a government employee, what with the high rate of burnout and hazard, so he could thankfully afford the nightly process of getting inked.
He was running late tonight, his fourth week working with the ward witch, so it was almost sunset as Yoongi hopped the bus from his apartment, transferred to the subway, and exited at the Hongik University Station. From there, it was a few blocks’ hike to the shop. He slipped into the store, breathless, the bell above chiming his arrival just as the sun dipped below the horizon.
“Cutting it close tonight, eh, Yoongi-ssi?”
Kim Taehyung—Vante to most everyone who ventured in here—greeted Yoongi with a cheery wave. The reception area was a small kitchenette and café style seating, where Taehyung currently poured steaming water into a plum colored cast iron teapot. Yoongi’s gaze fell on strong hands, climbing slowly to the almost painfully lovely face gracing him with a welcoming smile.
Taehyung was tall and of an almost stocky build compared to Yoongi’s slight frame. Skin golden and warm next to his own moon-kissed tone, dotted here and there with absurdly attractive freckles and moles. He scooped a long, veiny hand through his hair, black and wavy and shaggy enough to earn the scorn of clean-cut elders, wild enough to make Yoongi’s fingers itch to touch. To tangle and tug.
“Would you like some tea?” His voice was something…special. Low. Calm. Just a hint of huskiness. “Lemon balm tonight.”
He’d never been the biggest fan of being out and about, but somehow, Taehyung soothed the tension in him away with a smile and a handful of words. Here, he always felt welcome. Safe.
“Ah, Taehyung-ssi. Sorry I’m late. I may have run the last two blocks.” His cheeks burned, partly from effort and the winter chill, partly from being caught out. “Tea sounds wonderful. Thank you.”
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436415