don't be afraid.

"... I, I can't get these memories out of my mind, and some kind of madness has started to evolve."

[fcxluhan]

so? { ` she snaps back a bit, blinking as she arches a brow, honestly not correctly portraying the bit of amusement that does surface at his tone, though she ignores even that in favor of feeding him and moving on with the topic, shaking her head slightly } i'm a good girl they let me roam free—doped up on drugs and everything.

so-- { ` he wields a fist, waving it in the air in a heavy--hazy--movement meant to emphasize his righteous fury at being called pretty; on another day, his reaction would've been at least half serious. what a perspective the certainty of death gave. of course, that particular train of thought is lost when an apple slice is pushed into his mouth. han chews obediently for the moment, before re-focusing as best he can manage } yah, that's not fair. i was good. { ` lies. }

[fcxluhan]

queen. { ` she insists, eyes flicking over his face briefly as she tilts her head, blinking a few times } royalty doesn't need to lift a finger. { ` coos almost, plucking a grape out of the bowl to press it to his lips, smile faltering at his answer as she leans forward automatically, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose } well you look like shit too, so at least you're consistent. { ` makes a small noise } kidding, you're still very pretty, my queen.

i repeat--my hands still work, soojung-ah. { ` this time, he pushes the words out in that pseudo-threatening tone that always makes her smile; though this time, han doesn't expect it--he doesn't search for it, merely keeping his attention fixed on her face as he parts his lips to take the offered fruit. } shouldn't you be trapped in one of these fucking beds too?

[fcxluhan]

{ ` she manages a small smile in return—finding trouble in falling out of the habit of putting up facades—shifting to sit on the edge of the bed as she bows her head slightly } fruit. i'll even feed you, my queen. { ` meets his eyes with a hum, fingers extended to move his hair out of his fringe absently } how are you this hour, huh?

king. { ` he corrects absently, lips pressing into a firm line as he tries to grow his smile--like a dying flower in the cold of winter, it dies away with her question; he never could lie for too long } my arms work, soojung-ah-- { ` it was the rest that so easily seemed to defy his will. the thought leaves him quiet for a minute } i still feel like shit. { ` still feels like he should have died instead }

[fcxluhan]

{ ` she returns to the infirmary with a variety of fruit slices in a bowl, finding it a bit more appealing to look at things with color, maybe—pads toward the male's bed automatically as she takes a breath, slender fingers reaching up to tug her mask down to speak, voice soft } han...? are you awake?

{ ` he's awake. far too awake for his own liking, given the itch in his legs--the need to move that han can't begin to indulge. his gaze focuses belatedly on his friend, followed with a few slow blinks as he nods } i'm awake. { ` and just like that, he's drawn into the act of trying to manage for her--lips tugging into a wry smile } have an offering for your majesty?

[fcxluhan]

“falling out of love—” ♕

goddammit. { ` muttering, he releases a heavy sigh as he swings his weight into the chair and makes a hard landing; nevertheless, he’s out of the bed and the realization brings a loopy smile to his lips as he pulls his feet into the footholds and rolls toward the door. hhe doesn’t care for thinking of direction upon encountering the hallway outside. a glance in either direction reveals nothing more than emptiness—and he takes a left. where is anyone? not for the first time, he feels the absence of his phone—one that leaves him clenching his jaw after he turns the third corner and finds no way out. no one to help him. }

you guys couldn’t leave a note or anything? { ` the sound that escapes after is caustic; between a cough and a bitter, bitter laugh. rolling to a stop, he stares down at his legs; presses shaking fingers into flesh and bone. the focus of his frustration is nothing in particular; anyone that crosses his mind is collateral damage. it’s all he can do, he reasons, when willing them to move does nothing but cause pain. } … { ` silently, he swallows the knot in his throat and blinks back the stinging of frustration in his eyes.

he should’ve turned back. instead, han rolls himself down the hallway—head low and heart heavy. when his front wheel encounters a step; the first of dozens heading down—

he doesn’t stop. }

[fcxluhan]

“disconnect—” ♕

[fcxtempest]

                   { ♛— ; } she’s not exactly sure how to feel. as a matter of fact miyoung can do nothing but stand before the seemingly frozen male – a cocktail mix of pity, bitingly bitter pity, and anger among other things, unable to see past the emotions that surfaces from what could seemingly be a suicide attempt. what kind of person sits here in weather like this?the x-men member doesn’t put too much thought into it, admittedly for her own good because if anything, this kind of behavior was nothing miyoung would ever want to rationalize—or think about—nor would it be in her place to question him about.

at least, she’s almost sure they’re not close enough for that yet.

and so instead she opts to focus on the relief that washes through her when he does move, rolling back her shoulders as she moves closer to the male, eventually taking a knee beside him as her brows furrow. “han?” miyoung repeats a bit more firmly—did he not hear her the first time?—decidedly shifting a bit closer as she shifts the flashlight to her other hand. she suppresses a sigh as slender, hesitant fingers reaches out to brush over the icy skin of his cheek, eyes narrowing slightly once she notices the dried blood—a stark contrast to deathly pale skin—as well as the dazed, hollow look in his eyes.

“yah…” the woman frowns, fingertips sliding over his lower lip briefly as her head tilts, leaning in a bit closer to try and meet his eyes. “you must be freezing—what are you doing out here?”

what kind of answer can she honestly expect though? miyoung honestly didn’t want to know.

[fcxluhan]

han has no intent in staying out—or at least, none that he can summon to mind—aside from getting away. the prospect of being observed in a moment of stark, debilitating weakness wasn’t something that anyone wanted to experience, but the words to say so—when he hears the question on the cold, wet air—escape him. he makes no effort to fill in the blanks, merely watching as the woman pieces together her own conclusion. what would she decide? or more importantly, how fast would she have him locked away in the infirmary?

his own train of thought goes into unpleasant places, where he’s strapped to a bed and medicated until he can hardly keep his eyes open. he doesn’t want another nightmare to come to life.

her touch registers as comforting, even if the heat radiating from her skin stings. han stares up at her, lips pursing beneath her thumb before he speaks—tone weary, raspy with disuse. “don’t take me to the infirmary.” groaning, he forces the words out; past rattling teeth and minute shivers. the chill moves up his spine, all the more obvious for the fact that he’s awake now. whatever solace sleep had offered him has been ripped away—“i just wanted to get out of the school.” out of his room. away from anything that could remind him. away from anything breakable.

he didn’t want to die. if anything, coming out had been a measure to prevent just that.

still, he makes no move to rise from his spot—going back was the last thing he wanted to do.

[iason-ass]

Visit Original Link

[fcxluhan]

In weakness or in strength, Change can be amazing. So I pray for the best, I pray for the best for you.

[fcxluhan]

✪ "in weakness or in strength—"

He’d always imagined more. There were no rooms bathed in golden light, no hallways without end, and no reunions with the dearly departed to guide him along. The latter was what Han had dared to hope for; the day he died would be the day that he saw his grandmother again—the day he’d be able to tell her every little thing that she’d missed—

Just for her to say that she’d been watching all the while. Maybe he’d even see Lena, a whole girl with a bittersweet smile on her lips—bitter for the life she’d lost too soon.

But everything he’d ever seen; every movie, every word of every book was bullshit.

Being trapped between the spaces of life and death was like drowning. He could hear the echoes of voices, speaking just beyond what felt like the edges of his fingertips. But Han couldn’t speak; couldn’t breathe for the water filling his lungs. Every outline he saw from the corner of his eye was the work of his imagination, drawing outlines to match the memories—

—of tones and cadences remembered from his time living.

No, he isn’t living.

Even as the first burst of air forces its way up his throat—from where, he doesn’t know—he doesn’t believe it. There’s nothing to believe in, drifting in the cold darkness of oblivion. It’s just a matter of time before his tenuous grasp on life;

on Jung Soojung and Choi Jinri, and every other smile that he remembers with absolute clarity—

loosens.

He breathes.

His fingers twitch at his sides. His throat itches with an intensity that leaves him gasping, eyes fluttering beneath the shelter of his eyelids. The press of hands to his chest; light, warm healer’s hands, barely serve to keep him still. Lu Han is ripped backward, through the depths of a black ocean and back into the startling light of fluorescent bulbs and the scent of antiseptic.

“…bones will take time…—“

The first voice he hears; the first of this world, belongs to a stranger—soft-spoken and yet foreign just the same.

“…he’ll be paralyzed…”

He breathes again.

This time words force themselves out, past dry lips and the ache of a freshly removed tube—“From the neck or the waist?”

Han feels it’s a reasonable question, even if he can’t open his eyes.

[luhnd]

have you met an angel before?

[kay--lay]

Visit Original Link

[fcxluhan]

When my time comes Forget the wrong that I've done Help me leave behind some Reasons to be missed And don't resent me And when you're feeling empty Keep me in your memory Leave out all the rest

[firstclass-krp]

✪ "leave out all the rest—"

the air is cold. clinical, in a way—save that there’s no telltale odor of antiseptic hanging in air. the only discernible thing is the coppery scent of blood; of the pain and sickness embodied in the crimson liquid that creeps across the floor. a cursory glance provides no clue as to whose it is. the bodies of each captured mutant line the floor in haphazardly constructed rows, surrounding a single drain in the floor. there’s no treatment, no pretense of care beyond the occasional glance of soldiers armed from head to toe, or men and women clad in white coats with clipboards clasped against their sides.

one makes a note.

the next steps inside, past countless safeguards to draw fresh blood from each of the wounded. the guard that follows in wears a smile and bears the tattoo iv on her arm—“anyone that does something dumb can watch as all of their friends die.”—she warns, not for the first time. as always, her words are mild; tone almost pleasant.

after all, there’s no escape.

[fcxluhan]

splitting up was supposed to be to their benefit. in every choice he made, there was the awareness that he couldn’t stick around any mutant. at least, he couldn’t do so and expect for them to work—or fight—to their true potential. naeun was surprisingly kind in her acceptance of his company; surprisingly believing of his capability to be more than just a walking buzzkill. and he did have his uses.

though it doesn’t matter, in the end. the first bullet that pierces him sets him ablaze with pain; his leg collapses beneath him and han finds himself trying to ignore the stinging in his eyes—the second shatters his collarbone. the man taking aim at him lurks in the shadows. the silhouette follows his every movement as he stumbles through the alleyways of the city, putting all of his weight on a single, good leg.

he can’t go home in anything more than a single piece. for soojung and for jinri, who have already lost enough. funny, how the worth of his existence is tied to them so intricately, but it’s the single thread that he pulls himself by—

the mantra that he repeats in his every thought.

he only briefly spots naeun before he’s thrown into the nearest wall, feeling brick colliding with his spine hard enough that his body cracks.

“what a nice little trick.” the man mutters, and he looks nothing like any soldier that han has ever seen; wild eyes and scathing sarcasm. “how long can you keep it up?”

he speaks as if it’s all just a game. han is inclined to agree.

even as his body is broken down long after his power gives out.

tossed into a cell with the rest, he’s barely conscious enough to manage little more than a glance at his friends--barely able to feel something that isn't shattered into little pieces.

he finds relief in the single fact that they’re alive.

maybe they'd forgive him for not coming back.

with that thought, han slips away.

[o-ikawasenpai]

[fcxluhan]

“disconnect—” ♕

[fcxtempest]

                   { ♛— ; } the forest is rainy and wet by the time miyoung takes the first step in since their little camping trip, combat boots leaving imprints in dirtied snow. it didn’t take much to notice—really, just a glance up at the sky where dark looming clouds never ceased—that the x-men member was still fuming, still furious over the entire ordeal; that being the reason why that, even with junki’s feeble request, miyoung didn’t bother in the slightest to lessen up on the storms plaguing the city.

let them suffer.

mourn.

with the rest of them.

it is because of that that she’s the only one to venture into the forest to pick up after the mess they had left on the night of the news — of course, this had been trivial as fuck and honestly only done at the suggestion of junki himself, but miyoung opts to keep her opinions to herself this time around. she needed the busywork, if she’s honest, something to keep her mind off things.

leaves crunching under her boots, the mutant is slow to make her way into the forest, sharp rain bouncing off the pastel umbrella held upright as she maneuvers through the greenery as she keeps her flashlight directed at the path before her. it might have been a slight misjudgment—to come out at night, but it wasn’t like there was anything out to attack her anyway. no one in their right mind would given her temper right now.

she does, however, jump a little once her foot hits something a bit too meaty to be a tree – blinking back into focus as her gaze lowers to the obstruction before her, taking note of the leg—well then—before flicking her wrist, eyes following the light to soon settle on a far too familiar face.

“…han?”

is he even alive?

[fcxluhan]

trapped within the restrains of his own thoughts, it’s no wonder that his sleep is a fitful one. cold and wet, han lies huddled against a large tree, half curled into the hollow at the base. his mind wanders; memories and dreams collide in a painful union that leaves him crying in his sleep—at least until he runs out of tears and the damp tracks on his cheeks are rendered to icy, salt-water flakes. of all the things that he’s impervious to—the feelings that he can will away with little more than a pep talk and strained smile, loss is the exception—

the battle to be waged just for control over something as simple as breathing.

he doesn’t hear the quiet footsteps—the muted crunch of snow beneath thick, winter boots—nearing him. the nudge of one against his calf escapes all notice, as he purses dry, blue-tinted lips in his slumber and releases a shallow breath. his lungs seem to rattle with the motion, though their job in providing air to his ailing body is completed (for the moment, before it begins anew with the next breath).

behind his eyelids, he envisions smiling lips and an apology whispered in his ear as the wind rushes past. the trick that his every sense plays on him offers a small respite, taking him back to the moments when being mad at her was a luxury he could afford.

now, it all seemed so pointless.

he’d been wasting time.

the calling of his name draws him slowly from the delusion—bringing with it the now-familiar clenching of his chest and a short, choked sound. his lashes flutter, sealed shut with a layer of ice that falls away as he blinks. slowly, his eyes open in the darkness, staring at roaming shadows in the distance as the leaves above their heads sway.

the presence of another is clear, though han isn’t sure he wants to be seen (or found).

he remains silent.

[exgmxtaeyeon]

Dust in the Wind? || Luhan & Taeyeon

[exgmxtaeyeon]

Taeyeon hadn’t stopped for a moment to think that maybe this Luhan kid would have no idea what it was that she was approaching him about.  Maybe the potential that she could be scattered to dust by the slightest touch from him and his negation ability didn’t register with him.  She was scared as hell to find out, but it was he curiosity about her past that kept her coming back to this idea.  If she could have him turn her power off, then maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to tell how old she was. It was risky, but when you have no idea who you are, where you came from? Sometimes risks were all you had.

She wasn’t sure what exactly the first look she had gotten from him was all about, but soon the questioning began.  ”Yeah, I guess I should have been more clear about that.  I’m ready to see if you can kill me.  The name is Kim Taeyeon, if you don’t know me yet.  Regenerative Healing Factor.” she stated, almost as if the other were asking her for name, rank, and serial number.  She proceeded to go further into it.  ”They don’t know how old I am, just that the ability stalls my aging process.  So I could be 25…Or I could be 85…We just don’t know.  I have almost no memories of my past and no real hopes of finding anything out.” she took a deep breath.  ”So. Want to see if this is what I really look like? Or if I’ll just be nothing but dust?”

[fcxluhan]

what a strange proposal. in his time at the school, yes, he’d heard his fair share of strange things. he’d said even stranger things while under the influence of any number of things, but this took the figurative cake in terms of random encounters. han stared at the woman for a long moment, contemplating the twist in her words with furrowed brows—his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he hmm and hums and nods his head, “that’s quite a burden you’re trying to put on me, kim taeyeon.” if she turned to dust, he’d be responsible for her death—unless she regenerated (how did that work?)—and that didn’t sit well, no matter how he looked at it. “what if you die?”

maybe the suggestion wasn’t one that she took seriously. maybe—but it’s instinct that has him double-checking that his power is stifled, leaning his shoulder against the wall to regard her with a light frown, “you couldn’t ask xavier to dig around in there?” he taps his temple for emphasis—

what the hell had he just been pulled into?

[choijungguk]

[fcxluhan]

“a good day—” ♕

[fcxspecter]

jeongguk followed directly behind him, whispering ‘excuse me’s and ‘please let me through’s while navigating past clumps of young people standing or walking in the way. the best thing he could do was be polite, even to those still in their school uniforms as if they decided to skip whatever class they had at the moment. he wasn’t one to judge though — it wasn’t like he did the same thing sometimes. “beat is an understatement … but hungry i can accept …” he replied softly with small laughter.

the smell of food wafting in the air as they spilled into the streets was tempting to the young specter, endless thoughts on what they could have with difficulty on choosing just one. “meat …” was his first and prioritized option but that could get expensive sometimes so he rushed to think of something else, pulling at his facial mask. “or … um …! pizza! or maybe there’s a lotteria nearby …? um …”

he trailed off on his rushed words at the soldiers not too far from their sights. he subsconsciously pulled his mask up higher and continued shuffling his feet so that he was walking alongside han, peering up at the question. “oh … ! well, you know … training, mostly … training and sleeping … writing,” he mumbled, trying not to shift his eyes back to the soldiers. there really was no reason for them to be loitering around like that — what were they even trying to do? scare mutants into scrambling to show some normalcy?

"what about you, han hyung …?" it was ideal to ask it back of course, in jeongguk’s mind at least. "anything interesting … going on with you lately …?" social interaction was always troublesome, but at least with han, it was a bit easier since he knew him better than he knew other peers.

[fcxluhan]

“good, because we’re going to find something good to eat!” he smiles, wry but bright, at the younger male and claps his hand to his shoulder. his regard for the people walking around them is remarkably absent; given that each of them are tied into their own thoughts—they don’t quite respond to jeongguk, and so han doesn’t make the effort. it’s a waste of his breath that could be spent better. “mmmmm, i vote barbeque. or pizza.” either one—the thought already had his stomach grumbling; enough that his notice of the soldiers slips for a moment too long and he finds himself frowning when re-confronted with those uniforms.

ugh.

it takes an act of willpower to brush off the turn in mood that had him out in the first place. he’d been going for a drink—for the chance of a good night’s sleep. maybe he’d get that in a way that didn’t require copious amounts of alcohol, but that was only if he managed to keep his stress down. managing something of a smile, he cast a glance at jeongguk and considered his answer—“you don’t do much, do you? enjoying your break?”

hell, he was enjoying this himself. his attention shifts to the line of restaurants along the street, reading signs until one catches his eye, “not really. training, sleeping, detention.” han doesn’t eat as much anymore; or at least, none of his meals are the kind that require sitting down—so they hardly count as something that occupies his time. instead, he chooses to count the hours wasted away in empty classrooms, staring at a prick of a teacher sitting behind their desk and grading papers.

“how do you feel about that place up there?” the male questions, lips quirked as he lifts his hand and points to a sign advertising all you can eat pizza.

[fcxluhan]

he stares long and hard at the door. the fact that there's been no answer for the last five minutes doesn't deter him from knocking again. maybe hoping that they just have their headphones on. maybe they're playing one of their stupid little otomes and can't hear him; though the telltale giggling that he can usually hear on the other side of the door is conspicuously absent--

knock knock knock.

there's no point in calling out, after the strange looks offered to him by the occupants of the other rooms. they open their doors and glare at him in the dark--for the first time, he feels embarrassment take hold (acute shame, in the clenching in his chest) and yet he continues to wait, tracing the raised numbers on the door with his fingertips. he's not supposed to give up.

he feels bad for even having the thought; lower lip trembling, the male forces a smile to himself--eyes closing before he rubs them with his palms (they burn) until his vision wavers in the darkness.

finally, after nine minutes and fifty-one seconds, han drops his hand to his side and walks away from room 101.