#fcxxiumin

[fcxaphorism]

hello, my name is 「 kim minseok 」 and my chosen word is 「 hope 」!

the tattoo of your chosen word appears on your forehead as soon as your hand finishes the last stroke — you’ve been granted the ability of hope aura, and must follow the guidelines below :

limited to a radius of five feet.

doesn’t work on oneself.

may produce a pseudo-hopeless affect in others by ripping the heightened hope away.

[fcxhongbin]

Misunderstanding...

Hongbin was most definitely excited today. From his bright smile and glistening eyes (probably because he stayed up all night), to the way he dressed. Hell, it was the first time in a week that he had worn colors (in general). It all started with a note. 

Hongbin, please expect a new student tomorrow morning. Signed, Attendance. 

Now if it was any other student, then Hongbin would've worn his normal clothes and hid out of sight (or maybe even crawled). But, since he was a bit of a snoop, Hongbin looked up the student and discovered their disability, blindness. Hongbin went all gaga then. He would try his best to make the other student comfortable, and not awkward. So he quietly waited and sat. 

"I do wonder when they'll be here." He softly asked himself. He dreamily went back to work. 

[fcxcreator]

Drink - drabble

XiuMin woke up to the knocking of his door and an approaching smell of alcohol. Standing on the other side of the door is the disheveled EunHye. Arms outstretched, EunHye went to hold XiuMin around the neck. Already he had felt disgusted but now the stench overpowers other senses. “Sis… let me stay..” were the words before EunHye passed out. As XiuMin pondered on what to do with her, EunHye’s eyes shot open and yellow liquid stenched of alcohol mixed with last night’s dinner came out of her mouth. Leaving a miserable XiuMin standing dumbfounded and frozen to the spot.

[fcxconfessions]

[!] I can't see it but I'm pretty sure you all can. ┌∩┐(◣_◢)┌∩┐

ONE ! IS OOC MY DARLING !!!!

[fcxxiumin-blog]

∞ 05/13

Quicker than imagined, the date rolled with a sunlit day accompanying its attention. Clouds flew by in earnest speeds, the sky an open canvas, and a song thrumming from birds up high like a chorus of angels, joyous and light. A contrast to his dark suited form, sullenly climbing up the staircase mountain, emotions swirled beneath his calm shaded surface.

Trees rustling in the wind with shaken leaves falling softly, grandmother tripped to his side, clutching to his arm, when they took their final step up top to the graveyard of the dearly departed.

“We could have stayed at home today, you know.” A pleading tone, he implored, leather gloved hands holding her steady with the bouquet of flowers, white and pristine, having fallen to the floor, momentarily forgotten. “We didn’t have to go today.”

Age was mere number, a numerical figure counting forwards when the body counted backwards, a ticking time bomb in delayed time. The woman who raised him with love and affection, despite all the odds stacked against them, her bomb grew quick with each passing day. However she sugared it, this he knew.

Her time grew short in this plane of mortality, of war and peace, of sadness and hope. Changing in essence, from microscopic to a grand event, the earth turned and spun in ways unimaginable. Life was changing, evolving.

Her era was nearly at its end.

Disapproval in her stare, this, he felt as a wrinkled punch came his way, impacting on his right arm. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Slight annoyance was her tone, her heart pumping in even beats. “Now pick up those flowers before they get blown off with the wind.”

His grandmother removed from his side, walking her own way and meandering past the various dotted graves, he knelt in obedience, grasping onto the fallen flowers, before following her steps towards their ritual location.

Incense burned and flowers offered, a shroud of silence covering their already still conversation, emotions wracked deep within him like every year they came. In the presence of two graves, they stood in contemplation, unnerving him slightly with the world less in focus.

“15 years. A decade and a half.” Minseok heard her began in earnest beside him, both gloved hands gripping onto his cane tightly at her words. “It still feels so fresh. Their marriage, the day you were born and of course…the accident. Some days, I feel as if they would still come traipsing through my door unannounced with a younger chubbier you cradled in your mother’s arms.”

Mirth filled her voice before silence overtook them once again. Minseok felt her arm slowly interlock with his as he blindly stared at the marked graves in front. “You know that they loved you very much so.”

“All I can remember is their shouting.” His grip tightening and wrinkling the leather further on his gloves, this, he offered as an answer. “Never felt much of the love.”

Seemingly, his grandmother nodded sadly at his reply before words trickled off her as if to assuage him like the young child he was many years ago. “Yes, they always did have a bit of a difference of opinion when it came to you and your handicap but, in spite of everything, they still did their best to make you feel loved. I still do have that bear they gave you for your third birthday.”

“Bum Rap Beary? I thought you threw him out ages ago.”

“As if I can throw out something my only grandchild received as a present from his parents,” Admonishing him, he heard her click her tongue at his own insensitivity. He cringed in response.

Seconds went and minutes passed. The heat of the sun slowly descending behind them, they had spent the day, the whole afternoon, in rapt conversation of the past, his future and the debatable standard of Bum Rap Beary’s law career. Quaint and normal, far removed from the world’s pressing matters, eternity he wished to let everything remain. As it was, the world less than perfect but more than ideal for the now, the future was an uncertainty he did not wish to dwell in.

The simmers of war, of an unending siege from two sides compelled to say they were different from the other, madness boiled underneath the surface of the world’s peaceful exterior. Wrought in chaos, violence structuralized in the name of peace, systematic war. Was that how the world will live and turn, spin and, in the end, burn? Dwelling upon it, he did not wish to be or become part of, physically.

“They would have been proud of the man who you have grown up to be, Xiumin.” His grandmother uttered onto him as they descended the stairs, an awaiting car present to bring them home.

“That I’ve grown up to be a mutant?” Mistakenly, he queried, the snark unfamiliar to his tone.

“No.” Steely, her hands gripped him strongly at his words. More disapproval, he cringed once again. “That you’ve grown up becoming someone more, someone with a pure heart, an ideal, and an ambition to drive it through.”

[fcxjimin]

I'm slightly intrigued what would happen with Memories.

memories: your character suffers from amnesia, and mine tries to help you remember them again.

Minseok had been a sunbae at his old high school. They had never met there, but that seemed more a blessing than a curse, given the fact that the elder's experience there had been a horrible one.

They had met again years later, in the most unexpected of places: Xavier's Institute. It had taken awhile for Jimin to earn Minseok's trust and now that he had lost it to amnesia.. well, it felt like starting back at square one, when his hyung had been so heavily guarded by his own mask that Jimin had almost given up.

"Hi." Minseok tilted his head a bit, lifting his head a bit as his blank gaze settle on where Jimin was. "Hello, do I know you?"

"Yeah.." The doctors had said not make any sudden movements, it might make the elder nervous. "I'm one of your hoobaes from that high school, Park Jimin? " He saw the elder's face tighten a bit, his next words leaving his mouth in a rush. "But we met here, actually. We started on the same day."

His hyung was still frowning, almost as if trying to place where he had actually met Jimin. "How.. how did we meet?"

"You broke a plate and you helped me sweep it up." Jimin supplied helpfully, the other boy chuckling at his statement. "I helped sweep? You do know I'm blind, right?"

"Yeah but.. you said once.. that you would like to help, and that you were grateful that I gave you that chance. That you wanted to be more than your handicap." He studied Minseok's face again, his brows still furrowed in concentration before the lines of his shoulders relaxed.

"Interesting. Are there any more.. instances of that?" Jimin sighed in relief, being careful not to latch onto his hyung's arm like his usual clingy self.

He may not have his hyung's trust back yet, but this was a start. 

[fcxcelena]

Hate and Wrath pretty much.

hate: our characters hating each other.

they don’t like each other – that much is obvious.

lena doesn’t bother to hide it and neither does minseok.

although they always seem to end up in the same group together—the expert doesn’t know why, but she doesn’t explicitly comment on it as long as she can pretend the other’s six feet other or just one of those stalkers—and though they’ve both seemed to manage to viciously ignore each other (their “friends” don’t comment, maybe because they know best not to poke the sleeping dragon), lena just couldn’t particularly help it today.

it’s understandable after all – she’s only sixteen.

so she moves, disappearing from the side of their friend in favor of flicking his forehead and returning back in less than a second, a small snicker escaping her.

“lena, i know that was you.” he says.

“good!” she says.

i hate you, they think.

wrath: our characters having an argument.

it's inevitable at this point--they both know it. 

yet neither seems to be able to find it in them to back down -- especially when the topic of mutants come around. and it does, quite a lot.

but in this case, they had been arguing over something a little less serious.

"i'm telling you -- this is illegal, we're going to get in trouble. we should turn around--"

"for fucks sake, i got a key i'm not breaking in--"

"but the car's not yours, technically you're too young to even be driving!"

"fine!" she finally exclaims, slamming on the brakes for a rough halt that has the occupants in the car cursing.

"get out of the car and get yourself down there if you're so high and mighty."

"fine by me."

lena makes a face, watching the male unbuckle his seat-belt before slipping out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him.

"i hope he trips over a tree root and die."

[taserhwan]

` keep a distance

it was starting to get to him - this pressure. the pressure that he alone put on himself to do the best he could. jaehwan should have been more gentle with how he went about pushing himself. months had passed now and jaehwan had kept up with his training and studies so well. but it seemed as if that time was soon to fizzle away under the pressure he felt.

it was crushing him, sometimes when he thought about all the work he still wished to fulfill there was a tightening sensation in his chest and it would become hard to breathe. then again, everything seemed like that now days.

he'd read the same sentence almost fifty times now. jaehwan had been studying this textbook for three hours since after waking up at four in the morning and jogging until six am. all the letters were melting together like black ink on damp paper and no matter how many times he read it - it still made no sense.

a wall had been built in jaehwan's mind and it now refused to budge.

in response to his anguish and displeasure, that black (and chewed on) ball point pen was dropped onto his table with a small clatter, bouncing off all the other pens that had found their way out of his pen holder at some point that morning. he couldn't do anymore - and he had to accept that defeat.

jaehwan had many fears now. burning out must have been one of them. the way it caused him to take deep breaths and made his shoulders tense was the first sign of a fear for lee jaehwan. burning out meant that it would be harder to become an x-men and continue to be as motivated as he had been. the last thing the expert wanted was to go back to his old ways - lazy and careless.

he leaned forward and propped his elbows against the desk, hands curling around the top of the text book (deciding on if he should close it or not). jaehwan's attention shifted across the room to his roommate - his new roommate. xiumin seemed nice enough, but he'd never tried to make an attempt to find out entirely.

that was another fear that had appeared over the months; the fear of losing people. if jaehwan made any attempt to get to know his new roommate - there was a chance that one day maybe he would vanish too.

that one simple thought kept him from opening his mouth despite all his want to talk and explain his situation to his roommate. jaehwan' head hung with chin against chest and his tongue remained tied in his mouth.