INCENDIUM â ê°ëí
so i put my middle finger up
Not today Justin

Kiana Khansmith

tannertan36

No title available

izzy's playlists!

Discoholic đȘ©
hello vonnie

Andulka

@theartofmadeline
ojovivo
RMH
Sade Olutola
Show & Tell

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation
NASA

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
đȘŒ

seen from Italy

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from United States

seen from France

seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Germany

seen from Estonia

seen from Germany

seen from Brazil
seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from Slovenia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Indonesia

seen from United Kingdom
@kgxhyun
INCENDIUM â ê°ëí
so i put my middle finger up
hair chest shoulders feet
hair â how does your muse feel about their appearance?
dohyun believes he isnât terribly concerned over appearance, preferring to think that what he does with himself is guided by whatâs most âconvenientâ  â which typically warrants a dark suit and dark dress shoes and one from his wide selection of ties collected from all around. he may also come to work in sweats and a hoodie, and when heâs feeling particularly shitty, might wear sunglasses just so he wonât really have to look at people when theyâre talking to him.
even still, the guy likes (a lot more than he thinks he does) to look and feel classy. often coordinating what he does end up wearing to mirror a stylish, sophisticated demeanor, the man still has his essentials, and is frequently perceived by others as modish, tidy individual. a part of that is attributed to by how his mother liked to dress him when he was younger â a penchant of hers dohyun was never exactly embarrassed of, but never divulged to others. he was always that preppy boy with button ups and pressed collar shirts, especially while still boarding in germany at an academy which didnât require uniforms.Â
chest â what item or person does your muse treasure most?
if weâre talking physical objects, dohyun cherishes his grandfatherâs ring most. a typical item, but as the son of a bastard to a wealthy and distinguished family, dohyun was not handed the typical heirloom but his grandfatherâs most favored accessory. despite his fatherâs relationship with the rest of the kangs, hyun maintained a genuine bond with his grandparents, but hasnât maintained contact for the past few years.
dohyun canât be considered the most compassionate guy around, and has become less friendly and open than when he was is his early youth. still, he values and cares for many of his colleagues as if theyâre his own blood, and finds it extremely difficult to express affection without feeling like an idiot. he knows they know, and to him, itâs enough.
shoulders â what is the heaviest burden your muse carries?
although itâs not his only burden, dohyun still feels a sense of responsibility and guilt from one of his closest hyungâs death during their berlin mission. probably the reason why he still canât bring himself to act comfortably ( in the rare occasions they purposefully meet with each other anymore ) around yifan, despite trying to convince himself that the circumstances had been completely out of their control; that theyâd done everything in their willpower to stay alive. dohyun believes there was more he shouldâve and couldâve done, and to this day, canât erase the heaviness from failing.
feet â what will your muse stand up for no matter what?
he canât immediately say injustice, because various instances in his lifetime heâs seen it in its rawest form and hasnât done anything about it. he's not able to stand the strong oppressing the weak â whenever he sees anything of the sort, he wonât hesitate to step in. he despises abuse of power, especially when it comes to money and position. dohyun has been reckless with these things;he sometimes doesnât know when to shut up, and may get overly passionate trying to defend someone, often resulting in getting himself into trouble.Â
BANG BANG â  ê°ëí && ìŽì€
@kgxjun
      â  red lights, fire the weapon â đđđđ đđđđ, wonât stop âtill weâre đđđđđđđ. â x x
ÊáŽáŽáŽ ÉȘÉŽÉȘ â a playlist. ê°ëí && ì”ì€íž â @kgjunho
                    they carried on through the đ°đ±đŹđŻđȘ, tired soldiers                     with á¶Ê°á”á¶ á”á” knuckles and bruised hearts                     haunted by N O T H I N G but themselves â                     you ĐČŃŃαĐș me d o w n , you ĐČÏ Îčââ me u p ,                     so let the bullets đ đđ â ÊáŽáŽ áŽÊáŽáŽ Ê áŽ ÉȘ ÉŽ.                         if you get đ đ đ đ, iâll take your p a i n .                               & & through đđ§đđŁđȘđ„đđđđ, one said to another                                                 â đđđđđ đđđđ. â
a toast to the wicked.
@kgyoongi
few professions sanction the leisure of drinking on the job, and perhaps heâd find more pleasure in the usual indulgences if not for the party of three commanding the centre of his attention. he canât say this is all involuntarily, some sort of assigned sympathy work for a younger colleague with less years of conditioning and far too many tasks to handle before the weekâs end, because, well â he did volunteer. temporary assuage for the usual intoxicants finds itself in a perspiring glass of classic American bourbon, and while rough voices from across the room filter through his earpiece, he peruses through an outdated newspaper withholding nothing of his typical interest. dohyun reminds himself itâs almost over.
a shout arises and the sound of stools scraping against wood floors cuts through the barâs soft instrumentals, bringing not a sense of alarm but rather instant relief. their little three-way rendezvous must be drawing to a close, as most affairs between men often do: with at least one drunk && one irreversibly offended by the drunk. he doesnât bother observing any more of the spectacle, instead gathering his jacket and storing a notebook filled with scrawls of the palaver safely in his pocket. the angered, shortest of the group moves first to the exit, && in their passion knocks past hyunâs table and sends his glass shattering past the edge.Â
as dohyun stands, ready to say something, his eyes catch on the back of a familiar figure he canât help but identify as that irritatingly devoted car aficionado. the thought of disrupting what heâs sure yoongi considers to be valuable solitude stimulates a childish interest, enough for him to calmly step over the mess && leave little more than a pat on the bruteâs shoulder before striding over to his coworker.Â
â after all, it would be a shame for yoongi to drink all of that alone. with little reservation, dohyun drops into the seat beside him, requesting another glass before turning his gaze to the other. âyou come here often, eh? i must admit the atmosphere does suit the tastes of someone like you.âÂ
gunmetal.
kgjitae:
a pair of arms grab jitae from behind and drag him away from the body. he drops the block of concrete as he thrashes, jamming an elbow back to take down his next opponent. blood rushes past his ears so loudly that he doesnât even recognize dohyunâs voice until the face is in front of him, twisted in urgency and confusion, and jitae stills. almost. heâs still practically hyperventilating, chest rising and falling quickly. his eyes are wide, unfocused, and they dart around and inevitably land on the mess of blood he left on the person out cold next to them.
the sight makes jitae sick. âah.â this distressed sound slips out of his mouth alongside a rushed exhale. he tears his gaze away, grabbing around in frantic search of his friend. jitaeâs hand clutches dohyunâs arm in a grip thatâs much too tight, fingers digging into his bicep, but he canât bring himself to loosen, relax. his entire body is wracked with this uncontrollable shaking as he tugs dohyun closer and curls into him, pressing his forehead against the otherâs chest.
jitaeâs beginning to gain enough sense of things again to realize that this is embarrassing, shameful, but he canât help himself. he winds himself so tightly and just barely holds himself together enough to keep from outright sobbing. it threatens to spill out if he opens his mouth, but heâs too overwhelmed to speak anyway and the trembling doesnât stop. sorry, he traces the character on dohyunâs thigh with a finger, keeping his face hidding against dohyunâs chest. bomb. broken. south wing. there are others, but not here.
a forced breath sputters from his lips, a sensation quite similar to being rammed with the butt of a rifle felt just beneath his ribs â a flowering, sharp sort of pain. he realizes he hasnât faced the brunt of jitaeâs strength for nearly a year, and watching him struggle as if the whole weight of the world presses against him, strangling him, leaves an acrid taste in his mouth and a violent buzz through his veins. heâs never seen him like this, not really, and it kindles an uncanny ache in the pit of his chest. not a physical discomfort, but something foreign, something he doesnât understand.Â
the ground is uneven and threaded with web-like fissures, anticipating his stumble over a tangle of wires. knees bend && instinctively hyun brings his hand up the nape of the otherâs neck, shielding jitaeâs head from the resulting sprinkling of debris. âheâs dead,â he asserts with soft murmurs, but heâs not certain of it, nor does he wish for them remain here and wait for the building to collapse entirely. slowly, his gaze lowers; fixates on the top of jitaeâs hair, the tips of his dark eyelashes brushing against dohyunâs shirt and he wonders who is fucking responsible for making his friend quiver like that. dohyun could kill someone right now.Â
thereâs a particular coldness that seeps into you when you watch someone you care for hurting; an unfriendly, metastasizing fear that you might lose whateverâs left of them. in what feels like warped minutes, he senses everything, heightened by the heat of jitaeâs face as dohyun shifts his thumb against their cheek. âjitae-yah...â his other arm, once wrapped around the otherâs waist, now loosens the remnants of the concrete from their grip. âyouâre fine, youâre okay.â a pang of guilt grapples && knots in his throat when he realizes heâs trying to convince himself more than anyone else.Â
âokay. a broken bomb, is it? weâll find it â we can go find it.â he speaks in low whispers, as if someone might overhear, as if the very timbre of his voice might send jitae teetering. he doesnât want to risk it. âjitae, look at me. i need you look at me.âÂ
a group hug in typical exo styleÂ
morning call.
kgxsungil:
[ kgxhyun ]
once dohyunâs got the folder, sungil walks past him into the kitchen. heâd already wandered through it, but since heâd had breakfast more than a few hours ago, heâs starting to feel peckish. living inside hq has very few perks - it means he gets woken up immediately at the beck and call of any handler that doesnât feel like handling their own shit.Â
that being said, this weekâs assignment is a little special. for one, sungilâs never been to ningxia before.Â
âare you hungry, darling? i make a mean omelette. oh, and i left some medicine on the counter for you to take after breakfast.â sungil doesnât bother to wait for the manâs response, already going through his fridge to get some eggs and a few vegetables. he glides from one part of the kitchen to the other smoothly, as if heâd been through it a thousand times when really heâd only been around snooping about fifteen minutes ago.Â
âand,â he twirls a knife in his fingers, before setting it down on a chopping board, âiâm coming with you. weâve got a handler but sheâs got a few missions right now so she canât come with us.â
sungil turns around, humming a cheerful tune heâd heard on the radio that morning and dutifully ignoring the pure resentment emanating from dohyun.Â
his eyes are locked on sungil as he zips up his pants, deciding against a tie as to not further inspire the otherâs usual teases. fatigue still sits behind his eyes, the recurring sense of lethargy after late night ventures piloting his moments. setting the folder on the counter, he takes notice to the way sungil has familiarized themselves with the format of his home, yet leans against the wall observing, unresponsive.Â
âyou,â he repeats, ââ coming with me.â he laughs. the two of them regarded in a single sentence is a still a notion heâs yet to wrap his head around, let alone in the same space, on the same plane, coerced into working collaboratively just because someone got lazy and decided sungil was a convenient candidate to use as messenger at the crack of dawn. heâs still a trainee â not that dohyun never versed himself with the field nearing his graduation either. but stillâÂ
as soon as sungil turns his sleeve brushes against the counter top, and dohyun swiftly catches the egg which had rolled off the edge in his palm, saving himself a mess which would only delay their arrival even further ( besides, itâs not a hidden fact that he would make sungil clean the whole thing up anyway ). raising an eyebrow pointedly, he nestles the ingredient back inside the carton in an almost cocky manner, for the first time realizing how much closer heâd gotten and how their height difference isnât as great as what heâd remembered.Â
âchina, is it? what, youâre gonna come just like that? itâs five days.â shorter, if he can help it.Â
damaged goods.
kgxjun:Â
âthe only place iâm reporting this at is the police station. anonymously.â jun instantly types back to dohyun when the other maleâs messages reach him. he quietly stays in place as he does so. âthereâs no way iâm going to take up the paperwork for this shit. and no worries your number wonât be anywhere on this phone when iâm done with it.â a quick investigation of the phone and its workings render him a little flabbergasted at the complete lack of care the owner shows for his personal belongings and security. it boggles him, really. but it also comes in handy. âbut you want to get some food later? this guy has a banking app without password.â
he grins as he sends that text, threading further through the store and taking pictures of the chaos left and right. there is a room with a door half opened, more boxes spread around. a few bags hastily stored aside. he canât help his gut feeling telling him to check them out. when he opens them, thereâs a selection of what he soon recognises as illegal medication. smuglers, then. of the medical drugs kind. always fun to throw a get together like that into the water. but not his job to do so, he decides after a moment. taking a few more pictures, he sends them all to dohyun as he sneaks out of the room and quietly exits the store so he can hopefully get out.
âlooks like we found out what they were cooking up behind closed doors.â he adds to the pictures, before temporarily focusing on the way ahead so he wonât accidentally run into anyone heâs trying to avoid - which means everyone, really. ducking into a tiny corridor first, jun waits a moment for the voices he heard to pass by, then scoots back out and hurries on to where he was headed before. âheaded for the roof now. are you ready to give cover?â
he doesnât exactly wait for dohyunâs response because it also doesnât quite matter. if he manages to get on the roof, heâll manage to get out. his way to the roof⊠well, if hyun doesnât supply it for him through text heâll find it some other way. every public building is supposed to have a ground plan on every floor with emergency exits and all of that. all he needs to do is follow the arrows and heâll make it out in one piece.
and if all else fails and he still ends up running into someone he can just pretend he had fallen asleep on the job, or something. a lazy grin instantly stretches on his face at that thought. how long has it been since he blinked wearily up at someone with a flashlight, asking them if there âpas a woblem, surree?â
if dohyun hadnât been regretting his decisions when theyâd first come to steal a peak into the jewelersâ, then surely the brunt of his stupidity is felt this instance. a chain of buzzes vibrate against his thigh, all alerts he cannot afford to check as the cop attempts to pacify his panicked performance. instead, he brings his eyes to the end of the hall, spotting a diluted glow from the exit sign, behind which the fire escape to the roof should be located. âahjussi !â he expresses in frustration, allowing profound annoyance to overtake him â partially authentic, mostly in contribution to the charade.Â
in the low light, the narrow glint of their police baton indicates that his rowdiness is taking effect, and he feels cold metal penetrating the thin jacket heâs tossed on. adamant to take his act all the way, he brings the heel of his shoe down on a pile of empty packaging boxes, grabbing the edge of the opposingâs neon vest â and hopes that itâs all worth it. if provoking a foreseeable visit to the police station isnât enough to get jun out of here undetected, then hyun would attempt everything just to know what fucking would. the other should still be near or on the same floor anyway, based on the contents of his previous texts, and the only means of egress is in the sight line of at least four cops â two of which heâs in the midst of distracting, and another who draws near to the commotion, their attention pulled momentarily from surveillance the area.Â
if it werenât for the circumstances, dohyun would likely be enjoying the spectacle of such acute irony. returning just barely within an hour of wreaking havoc and providing yet another case for the police to investigate is enough off-hour excitement for one night, and more than anything, itâs built up quite an appetite. yet heâd been so focused on convincing himself the law force would be too caught up in the apparent robbery to uncover the real criminal activity ( where one is worse than the next is up for debate ) to really flesh out the repercussions, so as much as jun is betting on him to clear the pathway, hyun counts of sheer luck to soften the blow of this little-more-than-minor scuffle with cops on duty.Â
the foul sound of curses manifest and before he can blink, the two officers pull him toward the main flight of stairs, another one stringing along to witness the cease of his mayhem. a hand digs into his pocket, meeting with the familiar screen.Â
â clear.
đđđ«đ«đąđŻđ° đȘđđšđąđ±đ„ đȘđđ«.
âá”á” Êžá”á” á”âżá”Ê· ʷʰá”á” á”ʰá”á” á”á”á”âżËą? á”ʰá”âż ËĄá”á” á”á” á”á”á”á¶Ê° Êžá”á” á” ËĄá”˹˹á”âż.â
... And so began our adventure. An independent international intelligence agency operating at the highest level of discretion. Without the politics and bureaucracy that undermine the intelligence of government-run spy organisations. A suit is the modern gentleman's armour. And the Kingsman agents are the new knights.
bonus:
[ induction of blood & iron; ]
kgyifan:
the first thing he forgets to focus on is the cold. itâs always cold in Berlin, and seasoned bratva members only laughed when yifan tried to layer up. this type of cold seeps into his bones and inside his lungs, a permanent visitor much like fear. older members would steal all of his clothes when he finally risked a shower the first week. but these games were only a prelude to the real initiation, and he doesnât cause a scene. they donât react to complacency, but most times, surviving within the russian mafia isnât that easy.Â
yifanâs jaw is locked as he travels down narrow hallways now, this building windowless and dark. fluorescent lights pulsate above his head, flickering on and off. thereâs no central heating, and his breath puffs out between chapped lips. a white cloud that quickly disappears. he has not seen dohyun in over a week, and it requires yifan bribing other members to tip him off about where his partner might be. he can only operate based on hearsay and rumors with little contact from hq. the bratva had not trusted either of them from the beginning, and they were separated.
he tries every door he passes, narrowly dodging a switchblade tossed in his direction before he slams the door closed. he only catches a spewing of angry German curses thrown at his back, knife embedded in the wall over his shoulder. they threaten to shoot him as he stands in front of the last option, metal knob freezing under his palm.
yifan almost collapses when the door creaks open on its own, and he sees dohyunâs back turned towards him. he quickly locks the door, shushing the other agent before they can greet him, or say anything at all.Â
âTheyâll be here any second to take you to a room.â He whispers, falling silent when he hears floorboards creak outside the door. A new version of fear settles behind his eyes, but his body is always prepared for fight. Yifan takes Dohyunâs hand, pressing something small into their fist. âWeâll be separatedâ not for long, but long enough. If something happens to me, I need you to go this address carved into the bottom of that lighter. Jin will be waiting there for you.â Teeth sink into the inside of his cheek until he tastes iron, blood on the tip of his tongue. âA lot of people are going to die, Dohyun, and weâre not going to be able to stop it. Weâre going to be the reason they die. Thatâs the initiation.â
@kgxhyun
itâs silence that unsettles him most. malignant, metastasizing, it presses over him to the point where even his own voice cannot pacify that manifesting fear. to think that solace was once found in these quiet hours is unimaginable, if not absurd â if anything, they served no more than a temporary alleviation from the bratvaâs psychological games. so he should have remembered the minute theyâd brought him here: silent solitude has always been the first agent to breed insanity.Â
he would rely on the fleeting, yet muffled, noises from outside, and every few hours, haunting screams in the hall sends dohyun into a state of wild paranoia, caught in his own web of trepidation. a lone bulb sways above his head, flinging shadows into all corners of the room; that illuminated pendulum his gaze follows until eyelids grow too heavy && his vision burns like the malaise broiling though cold veins.Â
curled up on the cruel floor, hands tucked close to his body, hyunâs eyes fly open when the door swings inward to reveal silhouettes against a backdrop of crude lighting and rust-stained walls. german and russian mutterings, intermixed, find his ears as he drags himself up. âĐĐŸŃĐ”ĐčŃĐșĐžĐč ĐŒĐ°Đ»ŃŃĐžĐș?â he doesnât understand. one rushes up to him, but before dohyun can open his mouth, they throw a jabbing uppercut into his gut, sending him backward. another assault is directed toward his face, but hyun manages to avoid the brunt of the physical pain. âĐŽĐŸŃŃаŃĐŸŃĐœĐŸ. ĐŒŃ ĐżĐŸĐčĐŽĐ”ĐŒ.â blood surges in his throat. the door shuts, and it is quiet.Â
hours, what feels like days pass, and when the steady hinge of the door yawns a second time, dohyunâs breath stills. though this time he finds himself with the company of a quiet, soft voice, and the familiarity of it sends electric snaps down his spine. a sudden dizziness blooms inside his skull when he struggles to stand, and the agent visibly winces as the otherâs equally cold fingers brush against his. yet there is warmth from their palm, a kind of feeling that dohyun wishes to hold on to. âyifanâŠâ
all too quickly, yifanâs hand is replaced with unforgiving metal, and dohyun is now tracing delicate, messy letters located underneath. âjin â is he safe?â he questions, barely audible, feeling the corners of his lips cracking from the motion and prior abrasion. he takes this moment to examine yifanâs features, searching for traces of injury. âand you, whatâs going to happen to you? theyâre trying to break us, yifan. they picked out the weaker ones first, those the boyevik said were killed on drug runs.â his eyes shift to the door. âyou and iâŠif itâs anything like you said, theyâll test to see if we can be trusted, if our loyalty is the real deal. but no matter what they make us do, you must endure it. we have to survive.â
gunmetal.
kgjitae:
his body reacts to the hunk of concrete thrown in his direction first. shit, he didnât think anyone else was with them. jitae slows down and nearly pivots to jump out of the way, but then he makes sense of its trajectory and lets the debris hit the terroristâs side. their legs buckle and jitae takes his chance, colliding into them and knocking them against the floor. their gun rattles as it skids away.
the ricochet after a crash is always a little dizzying. somewhere in the midst of orienting himself, jitae finally registers that that was dohyunâs voice, and great. no one else other than that longass motherfucker can thrown a block of concrete that far anyway, but this is why jitae gets up close. he curls a fist into the personâs collar and holds them down by their chest, grabbing the concrete and slamming it against their face.
he flinches at the sickening crunch. bile rises until he can taste it in his mouth, but the panic doesnât subside; it urges him on, adrenaline surging through his veins, so jitae slams the brick down again. and again, and again.
the projectile isnât enough to knock them down, but jitaeâs tackle sure as hell is. with quick and heavy breaths, dohyun approaches in time to see the man pin the other by their clothing, almost grabbing hyun by surprise the moment jitae brings the object harshly down onto their face. an acute yell rises from their throat and it sounds fucking painful, but hyun couldnât care enough to give a shit about their pain tolerance. his attention is instead drawn toward jitaeâs condition, the injuries sustained that would benefit from urgent clinical care, the way his hands firmly grip the cinder block and strike with little hesitation. dohyun hasn't seen this much outward display of passion && fury in jitae since...well, months ago.Â
stepping over a threshold of detritus and burning rubble, he holds back a grimace, his hand poised with hesitation upon reaching for the knife strapped around his hip. he should be stepping in, preventing jitae from mutilating their face to the point theyâre unable to divulge any information. if anything, they should be keeping them alive in favor of the investigation. but hyun can only watch and he feels useless for doing so. he knows this isnât like him, to allow his emotions to blind his judgement, though heâs not sure what the terrorist had revealed to have jitae so worked up.
when it seems as if the gunman canât survive another blow, their face splattered with a messy arrangement of red and violent hues, dohyun stabs the knife into the back on their hand, pinning them to the ground && stimulating a literal bloodcurdling response. âhyung.â his own voice sounds foreign to him. he doesnât wait for the former agent to stop before heâs pulling â dragging â jitae back, away from the enemy, away from getting himself more hurt. for all they know, others could be lurking around them. the last thing on his agenda is providing them a final incentive to attack.
âhyung, jitae hyung ! grab a hold of yourself. itâs me, dohyun â what happened??âÂ
houdini.
kgjunho:
   though hardly fresh out of training, junho supposes it is a matter of perspective, and he would be considered just that by many people. having gone through only a handful of proper missions, his official involvement started merely over a year and a half ago. considering most people have a lot more experience than him, heâs high strung whenever heâs on the field, eager to prove his worth and finish the mission successfully. the situation is exactly that in the extravagant event they partake in, his eyes fleeting over each figure carefully, trying to match the names to the faces he read of in the file.
   dressed in a fitted suit courtesy of the agency, the cover is simple enough that he doesnât have to worry much. itâs not a far-fetched play heâs putting on, but just one of a student instead, not something completely foreign. the façade he has to follow is to look bored, the spoiled son of a rich magnate, as long as he keeps his expression neutral and acts as if he isnât poking his nose in peopleâs businesses, he should be fine. it doesnât mean he isnât tense underneath the cover, though itâs hidden well, alongside his doubts with having to work with someone fresh out of the training. well, perhaps there isnât much difference between them time-wise, though junho doesnât know or trust him enough yet, and going from the cold hard glances they threw at each other back in the hq, he really doesnât know whatâs waiting for them in the future.
   surrounded by much too serious older men, his fingers are curled around a glass of champagne, the only one heâll let himself indulge in for the time being. as high as his alcohol tolerance might be, he isnât willing to risk anything, aware that the stakes are too high for it. he acts as if heâs interested instead, sprouting words about the economy and the impending stock market, a few facts that he didnât know a few days ago. the research he made is enough for him to talk every ten minutes, exchanging a few words and hums while the others are much too narcissistic to let others talk for long periods of time. itâs more of a bragging contest than anything else at that point, a subtle one, though it isnât difficult to see the underlying meaning underneath. junhoâs attention is partly on the men as he watches what dohyun is doing from the corner of his eye, the exchange and encounter with a key figure, the woman obviously interested in the other. junho does his best not to roll his eyes before taking a sip of the drink, his gaze turning back to the man talking heatedly about his own company.
    as he sees him head toward his way, he gives the group a simple apology before leaving them, and luckily for junho, they donât pay him much mind. the agent retreats towards the back of the room and busies himself with something else instead, acting as if heâs interested in the tray of complimentary snacks. the familiar voice reaches his ears soon after, and it takes some effort for him to not shake his head. âi was having so much fun-â the words are said in deadpan as he turns on his heel, groaning as he fixes his tie. ânice pick up you did thereââ his attention is quick to turn to the figures leaving the room, and he absentmindedly leaves the half empty glass on one of the tables nearby. somethingâs finally happening after the an hour filled with boredom, so he canât wait to get back in action. âalright, letâs go â you ready ?â
to say he feels at ease around his assigned partner would be comical, but dohyun isnât so callow as to undermine the capabilities of the guy. after all, he doesnât claim to know much about junho; if being aware of his years with the agency and the manner in which he works is considered knowing him at all. besides an ongoing rivalry of who can get pissed off quicker, itâs safe to say theyâd avoided all forms of interaction back at headquarters, and in his best interest, hyun would have preferred for it to remain so. out on the field, everythingâs different. technicalities aside, this would be his first mission, one where stakes are high && he can rely on neither handlers nor a supervisor to save him if he screws up. no one but the man beside him, appearing as posh and debonair as his cover entails. in the best case scenario, theyâll succeed in completing the operation before any situations arise.Â
although still adjusting to working on the other side of the curtain rather than presenting the best of himself for the sake of reputation ( something which would've piloted his attention just years prior, when his athletic prowess was merely a subject of his grandfatherâs boast ), dohyunâs been particular with familiarizing himself with the pecking order of the scene. center staged are individuals of less prominence, tenacious in controlling the interest of others, flaunting bright colors and glittering accessories as their status is put on full display. he then surveys the profusion of guests, noticing a trend in how certain figures linger by the perimeters of the hall, speaking in hushed tones and quiet expressions â most of which are making deals worth billions at the very second. true kings and queens never trumpet their station â itâs given to them.Â
with the same importance stands stanislav morozov â the more interesting of the two, the executive assistant to the russian ambassador and rumored neo-soviet. russiaâs amiable relations with north korea have dwindled since the cold war, but suspicions of the agency must be brewing to have the man monitored with such stressed discretion. more than that, itâs the first time dohyun has seen him since his reported arrival on korean soil, and heâs sure morozov has intended in keeping his attendance at the venture undisclosed to the public.
heâs certain junho has already read through the files diligently enough to recall the names of the other man who takes his leave, while surely aware that every smile breeds a secret â dohyun flashes his own. despite hyunâs outward display, thereâs tension in his speech, a silent, creeping tension, and he doesnât seem to allow the foxy grin to fall from his lips as if itâs some sort of barrier preventing two enigmas from spilling into each other. âwith all that merrymaking, what intel have you gathered?â he swirls his glass in a fluid motion, watching its contents threaten to spill over the rim before lifting his gaze to observe junhoâs features. âi could use a smoke,â he responds, unwilling to jeopardize even the slight possibility that someone may be eavesdropping. naturally, he raises a hand to adjust the golden clip keeping his tie in place. âshall we, then?â
We lie best when we lie to ourselves.
Stephen King, It (via a-thousand-words)
Body Part Headcanon Meme
Head: What does your muse usually dream about?
Hair: How does your muse feel about their appearance?
Eyes: How does your muse handle intense emotions?
Cheeks: What makes your muse smile?
Ears: What kind of music does your muse listen to/play?
Nose: What memory does your museâs favorite scent trigger?
Lips: Has your muse kissed anyone? Anyone theyâd like to kiss?
Throat: What is your museâs greatest fear?
Shoulders: What is the heaviest burden your muse carries?
Arms: What is your museâs greatest strength?
Hands: What is your museâs greatest regret?
Chest: What item or person does your muse treasure most?
Stomach: Can your muse cook?
Legs: What goal(s) is your muse working toward?
Ankles: Tell me a weakness your muse has.
Feet: What will your muse stand up for no matter what?
morning call.
kgxsungil:
@kgxhyun
started from hereÂ
dohyunâs got a nice set up: sixty four inch hd tv, a kitchen with marble counters, a nice open set up, plenty of natural lighting, a dvd box set of every drama lee minhoâs ever starred in: kingsman pays well but it doesnât guarantee taste.Â
sungilâs not here to coach him on who the superior k-drama actors are, but he has sung odes to how desperately heâd bend over for park hyungsik.
heâs going through a novel heâd found sitting on the coffee table, but judging by the intact spine, dohyunâs barely touched it. busy man he is. sungil remarks so when the man walks in, but it seems heâs still too tired to register sound. it takes a moment, but sungilâs a patient guy. it takes a special type of determination to practice your breaking and entering by picking the locks to the office of every one of your superiors, but seeing that heâs no longer sitting through scoldings his hard work must have paid off.Â
sungil tosses the book aside, sighing as he stands up and procures a manila folder out of seemingly nowhere.Â
âhandler wanted me to get this to you. youâve got a flight in three hours and she thought you needed a wake up call.â sungil smiles, bright as day and chipper as all hell. âi am your wake up call.âÂ
fighting the urge to have soju as the first meal of the day, he pulls a bottle of water from a sleek black refrigerator, not bothering to offer his guest the usual courtesies. heâs sure sungil didnât come here on an empty stomach, after all, and itâs not like hyunâs willing to make food while fostering the hangover of the century. he could throw up just thinking about it.Â
"didnât peg you for an errand boy,â he comments, taking the folder without their hands touching, wishfully hoping errands are all sungil had been assigned to run near his place. glimpsing into the file, he sees printed air tickets and some sort of report, though doesnât deem it urgent enough to go through the contents yet. more than anything, something sticks with him: three hours...three hours...a flight in three hours.Â
a low groan parts his lips, and his attention is at once brought to the time. âa wake up call my ass â youâve been here for at least thirty minutes already, havenât you?â knowing the guy, he wouldnât be at all surprised if sungil had sat a good period in his living room; he mightâve even fixed himself a snack, or messed around on the tv to watch porn or whatever else heâs sure sungil makes a habit of.Â
as he chugs down the rest of the bottle, dohyunâs eyes scan over the traineeâs attire and his devilishly chirpy mannerism. âwhat's got you all dressed up?â rather than that, hyun wonders whatâs on the manâs agenda for the rest of the day, and whether sungil plans to leave in the next five minutes before he physically kicks him out.Â
shuffling to his closet, heâd prefer if sungil at least got a clue.Â
damaged goods.
kgxjun:
jun doesnât immediately spot dohyun among the crowd, but itâs not long before a loud noise pulls everyoneâs attention. he recognises the voice shouting those offensive words easily and his gaze flickers back to the cops instantly. an accusation like that at a place like this, itâs not surprising that the police officers instantly move in said direction. no one but the few security guards from the place itself remain to hold the crowd back, which starts moving along with the police officers to see what the whole commotion is about.
without a single bit of hesitation, he scans the people around him quickly and finds a phone sticking slightly out of the pocket of one of them. easily picking it out, he checks to make sure itâs not locked and then tucks it into his own pocket. heâs going to need something to procure evidence with, after all, and he didnât bring his work phone to an illegal outing like this. heâs not stupid after all. with the phone in his pocket, he looks back up.
itâs then that jun finally manages to pick his friend out in the crowd, he tries to establish eye contact to signal that he should come along. but whether it works or not is not important when he sees his chance to slip past the security back into the building. he crosses the first hallway until heâs out of sight and looks around. getting back in already worked, which is one thing. now he still needs another damn way out, of course, and dohyun is the one whoâd been aware of their escape routes before.
not letting that knowledge stop him from moving, jun quickly but quietly makes his way further through the hallways, back the way heâd been running to get out ealrier. he reaches the room they made a mess of not much later and finds thereâs no one there yet. probably the owner of the place is making his way over as quickly as he can to check the damage and the ones at work are all trying to make sure the perpetrators donât get back in. well, theyâre doing a lousy job so far for sure. but it does give him the opportunity to check it out further.
pulling the phone he nicked from his pocket, he starts to take pictures of the boxes with money first, then takes pictures of the destruction they left in their wake as well. after he has enough images of the room heâs in, he continues his walk further into the building. at the same time he starts sending the pictures over to dohyunâs number, after which he adds a quick text. âyou better get me the hell back out of here when iâm done, whereâs the other exit?â
itâs in the next room already that he comes to another full stop, takes a picture and sends that to dohyun too. âtold you there was a gold crown! but idk what the hell these people are up to. any ideas?â he doesnât wait for a reply before already moving on through the hallways, looking for an office or something of the sorts where he could hopefully find a stack of papers detailing these peopleâs criminal activities - although heâs pretty sure he wonât be that lucky.
junâs smart â smarter than most, a mad genius when it comes to instinct and raw intuition. since the beginning, he supposes theyâve shared enough bad ideas to have others consider the two an irrefutably suited pair, though heâs almost dead positive the only thing preventing them from getting totally fucked by headquarters is his friendâs respectable stature â and maybe their combined charm. as dohyun moves further into the crowd, bodies shoving against him, he fails to suppress the wolfish smile that occurs from the thought. itâs become a how far can we take it sort of game, and heâs almost proud to say this has been their greatest stunt yet.
a puerile urge in him wonders if jun had been impressed with the little distraction of his, ( âanyone couldâve done that,â he imagines him saying ), but all of a sudden the crowd is splitting and thereâs commotion in the center of it. two officers pinning down one man, his hands raised and shaking, still tightly gripping a black duffel bag. dohyunâs eyes snap up toward the building, his gaze briefly snatching on junâs the moment he enters. they have a culprit, but not their culprit.Â
excusing his way out of the horde, heâs facing the side of the building, peering over neon police tape at the gaping hole of shattered glass and orange cones, unable to see further into the store without getting up close and personal. not as lucky as jun, it seems. âwow. one guy did all that ??â he asks, rather loudly, whistling as if a prodding bystander. a uniformed guard steps up to him, his large hand placed on the holster strapped to his waistâ âyoung man, you canât be here.âÂ
showcasing a frown, dohyun shakes his head. âmy family owns a store on the second floor, officer. i heard the one that got robbed is right next door â who do you think weâll hold responsible if our business has things missing too? all the owners are checking, arenât they?â the last comment is a stretch â if these guards have any proper training, theyâd know to hold back all entrances until law enforcement arrives with specific authentication. dohyun flashes his watch, pulling his actual phone from his pocket, and begins to dial a random set of numbers â noticing texts from an unfamiliar contact. âmy father will arrive soon enough...âÂ
the guy looks around, then hesitates: âyou said you owned a store in there?â hyun can practically see the cautious deliberation running through his head. âalright, have a lookâreport if anything is missingââ and just like that heâs granted entrance. isnât this too simple? dohyun shrugs, bowing in quick thanks, and hurries into the building.Â
â they caught someone. not our man â that oneâs blocked, try rooftop â iâll cover for you â hyung, we need all the evidence we can find. we might have to end up reporting this
â and you better remember to delete my number off the phone laterÂ
he saves the images, ( and still canât believe there had actually been a fucking crown in there ) and tries looking into various storefronts for anything that would be useful later on. careful to leave his screen dim, his eyebrows furrow in faux worry as soon as he spots a cop patrolling the halls. âofficer, my store is fine, right? nothingâs stolen, right ??â Â