#syxjongsuk

[sysullivan]

Send me “Moodboard” + a symbol for me to make a board for a muse (or pair) with an unpleasant twist. - Accepting!

❓ + Yoga buddies! @syxkafka​

The work they do isn’t easy. It’s risky, dangerous; illegal.

They could plan for every foreseeable circumstance and there could still be any number of variables left unchecked, any number of possible ways things could go wrong. Deadly wrong. Usually, they managed to pull things off but inevitably there were situations when all hope seemed lost. Needless to say, when every member of the team looked to Sullivan as their last resort, the outcome seemed clear.

They were humped.

It wasn’t usual that Sullivan got called onto salvage missions. The Captain liked him safe and that usually meant staying on the Serenity where he was also out of the way, which was everyone’s preference for where he stayed. This time he’d been called into the fray as an extra set of eyes (certainly not an extra set of hands). The ‘scratch’ they’d found was foreign to all of them, something ancient, something possibly, hopefully valuable.

Before they made it back to the hold containing the loot, they’d ended up ducking into a room to investigate something else and the door had sealed behind them. Sullivan hadn’t really been paying much attention to what was going on up until that point and also after when the swearing began. The Captain was with them so, why bother? He’d take care of things; that’s what he did.

What Sullivan assumed had happened is, they realized they were stuck and no amount of Captain’s swearing, kicking and banging on the door could open it. So, Kafka probably said something like “Hey, don’t worry guys! I’ll just wiggle through this pipe and come getcha! LOL BRB!” Well, it had been an hour and Kafka hadn’t opened the door and he wasn’t answering anymore either. Something was wrong.

Sullivan watched in dismay as the arguing came to a roar. Neo had just spent twenty minutes trying and failing to make it into the duct. He just wasn’t quite narrow enough and despite the Captain’s compelling argument, there was no convincing him that the Doc could definitely reattach his arm if Jaewon pulled it off so he could fit inside. They were out of options.

It suddenly felt like there were too many eyes on him. And then, there were hands, the Captain’s hands and no amount of digging his feels into the floor was helping. “S-Sonmi...” he started, flinching when the Captain roared at him. Sonmi wasn’t even with them and how could he suggest she go instead of him? What kind of a spineless coward was he? Well, Sonmi loves climbing through ductwork so why should Sullivan deny her an adventure and hadn’t she been with them? He could’ve sworn she was?

A well aimed “Sully” from the Captain’s lips put the coward right where he wanted him. “Captain, I don’t know the way. I’ll get lost and you won’t be able to get me out. I’ll die in there and I’ll GET DIRTY...Captain!” Of course, Sullivan realized there didn’t seem to be any other option at the moment, despite his protesting. He was sure the others wanted their fate resting in his hands as little as he wanted it resting there. There was no choice. 

It was a classic life and death scenario. The inevitable situation where a student would have to surpass, nay, rescue his teacher. Sullivan would have to use his newfound flexibility for the survival of the crew. He would have to use his yoga powers to save their very lives!!

[sycasta]

Send me a moodboard: Accepting Seven Deadly Sins; Jongsuk as Wrath!

“Well, fuck me gently with a chainsaw!” 

[syxjaewon]

🎄🎄🎄🎄 *flutters my lashes innocently at you*

they call him doctor lips, and jaewon is honestly curious.

not that a man like jaewon has any intention of indulging in said curiosities though, he’s not the type to be so brazen, to be so open, to be so straightforward. captain yang, the man a mountain, built like a star ( burning atoms and flashing florescence ), all strained sinew and muscle and eyes. he only watches usually, interested in a far-away sort of haze, amused only insofar as nobody asks him personally about it, but for someone so assertive with what he wants, what he strives for, he can be remarkably shy when it comes to issues such like this.

at least, that is, when he’s sober.

there are other factors too of course, such as the unique history between jaewon and jongsuk, an uncomfortable subject that jaewon would rather rip his own ears off than speak out loud about, a life-changing surgery that simultaneously saved his life and left him with nothing to live for. he holds a bitterness in his chest for the doctor, a burden, a drought, three years later and jaewon still tries to see past the stunted mess he knows he is because of jongsuk– or more aptly, because of the procedure jongsuk needed to perform on him.

but again, that’s only when he’s sober.

here in the mess hall, with the lights shimmering and the alcohol singing through everyone’s veins, voices rising high and animated, jaewon is too busy keeping himself upright, too busy laughing into his mug and coming up with even worse dad jokes than the ones before, too busy demanding loudly for tribute– all the other captains get it! he should get it! they should love him, goddamn it!

instead, they push him onto the floor, a heaped jumble of laughter and chair legs, his coat too long and heavy and bogging him down, his vision too fuzzy, his arms too wiggly. he shuffles around while he’s down there, twisting and squirming out of his coat while he lays sprawled, convinced it’s somehow also the reason why he is on the floor now. he’s hot too, the warmth from the whiskey pooling in his cheeks, his neck, his chest, and he’s happy and he likes it; he likes the glow of the room, he likes the laughter of his crew, even if they’re laughing at him, he likes the stars surrounding them, the way the ship is still floating, still gleaming, still flying. and everyone is together.

he must be down here too long though, since a moment passes and suddenly jongsuk is leaning over him, a small pretty smile on his face, but hesitation in his eyes, asking the captain if he’s okay, if he’s not hurt, can he lean up.

instead of that though, jaewon reaches up and grabs jongsuk by the front of his shirt, both hands fisting in his collar, to drag him down to jaewon’s level, the curiosity finally getting to him, the interest finally boiling over to a simmer. their lips connect in a supernova, the crash of their gums disjointed and disorganized and if jaewon were sober, he’d stop and right himself, but then again, if jaewon were sober, this wouldn’t be happening.

as it is, he just tilts his head and adjusts their lips, using his teeth to latch onto jongsuk’s lower lip, biting onto the soft flesh, the heat of their mouths flooding against each other, the breath knocked out of both of them, and jaewon holds him tight, doesn’t let go, doesn’t let loose. he tilts his head more and licks lightly at jongsuk’s teeth, tasting his lips again, tasting the alcohol, mina’s peach cobbler, the christmas cheer. they’re both a little shocked by the exchange once jaewon’s hands soften and jongsuk pulls away far enough to meet his gaze, but jaewon recovers faster than the good doctor; he grins a little sleepily, gold eyes glinting warmly. “you’re less innocent than you play at.”

jongsuk’s eyebrow lifts handsomely. “this from the guy who just kissed me?”

“this to the guy who just kissed back.” and then he shoves at him to back off so they can both get up.

[sycasta]

🎄

“Merry Christmas, Dad!” Casta beans as soon as he walks into the medbay. It’s early, but these two are of the few who enjoy being up and about. Casta has already done his early morning work out-- no spectators this time, unfortunately, and gotten himself all ready for a no doubt boring day of medical emergencies such as ‘tinsle in my eye!’ or ‘stabbed by the Christmas tree star.’

Oh, did he love Christmas. 

Isn’t wasn’t all too bad though. Margaret was trailing after her in a little collar of jingle bells, meowing happily whenever she made a big leap and alerted the whole ship. And he very much was excited to have his first Christmas aboard the Serenity. It was no doubt going to be a good one. 

As he set down his bag, Jongsuk greeted him with his usual enthusiasm, all of it making Casta smile. 

“Who decorated?” He hummed after a minute, glancing at the little decorations adorning the medbay. Cute. Festive. 

Jongsuk, it seemed, didn’t know either and Casta only shrugged it off, leaving it up to the Christmas spirit as he went about digging in his bag for the other’s gift. “Huh. Well, I got you somethin’.” Everyone loved presents. He picked this out on the last planet they stopped on, a cute little pin in the shape of a cat. He thought-- hoped the other would appreciate it. 

“Ah!” Just as he crossed the bay, little box outstretched he spotted it, the little sprig of green in the white of the room. “Look at that!” Laughter bubbles out of him and just as the other goes to look at the bit of mistletoe stuck up there, he swoops down, pressing a kiss to his cheek and drops the box in his lap. 

“Hope you like it, dad!” 

[syxjaewon]

CAUSE EVEN HEROES GET THE BLUES ( OR ANY MISERY YOU CHOOSE )

                                                                  a playlist for @syxjongsuk

innocent        /        fuel divina comedia        /         gd big bad wolves        /         walk the moon scream my name        /         tove lo fake your death        /         my chemical romance golden        /         fall out boy sillyworld        /         stone sour i have friends in holy spaces        /         panic at the disco be        /         epik high breathe        /         lee hi

[syxjaewon]

 💭 all the ones you want. The skys the limit (and was that a pun? Yes it was)

i shouldn’t blame him

i know

i fucking know

why does he always try to fucking mother me.. he’s worse than mina, fuck

he needs to take a giant step back before his face runs into my fist

i shouldn’t blame him, he was just trying to save my life…

i ought to be grateful, i ought to be better..

what the fuck, this motherfucker, i swear to god, can he just leave me the fuck alone for five fucking minutes

i hate him i never want him around me

where the hell is my medic??? someone GET me jongsuk NOW

he needs to stop looking at me with those big watery eyes, i’m not going to fall to pieces or anything.. he always looks so concerned, it’s annoying

i wish he wasn’t concerned about me, it’d make hating him easier…

can you please stop touching me, stop stop stop

he smells like medical supplies…

where the hell is my medic, i probably need stitches…

[syxrion-blog]

Lost

Serenity was far from the largest ship Rion has been on. Firefly-class ships paled in comparison to the sort of opulence and grandeur his family would often be invited to: cruisers with sizes only rivaled by the egos of the passengers on it and hallways so long he would lost track of his surroundings midway through.

No. It wasn’t the size that was the problem but the winding of the walkways, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings and the way memories slip from his mind every step he takes. 

[Rion always thought his brain never quite woke up all those years ago.]

He was pretty sure he got his room right. It looked like his door- the hallway was... vaguely familiar and after much clueless wandering Rion was ready to let his tired legs get some rest. He yanked the door open and strode in-

only to be met with a tantalizing flash of skin that had Rion choking, eyes automatically flicking up and down before going comically wide. Stumbling back to the door, he covered his flushed face and closed his eyes.

Nope. Nope nope nope it was Not his room and gorram it all he’d never hated his memory more than he did at that moment. Rion barely managed a strangled “I’m so sorry!” before he bowed, embarrassment coloring his tone pink like the color of his cheeks.

@syxjongsuk

[syxjaewon]

‘doing harm’

@syxjongsuk

“please remember you’re supposed to just help me out with the names of people, not pretend to be some tiny little gorram voice in my head telling me what’s right or wrong.” jaewon huffs. “i don’t have a fucking conscience, i have no need for one.” especially not with his line of work. his entire aesthetic and operation has been mostly centered around his capability to ignore all morality and justice in the universe, maneuver his way avoiding anything good or well-alighted. the only light he’ll allow in his breadth is the electromagnetic radiation of photons, pinpointed into sharp edges, blades hot enough to scorch the ground beneath his feet, to blacken the skin on his palms. he is only here for the scratch, only here for the damnation, the sin, the thrill of the verse before it all goes supernova. he has no stomach for anything less.

the last thing he needs right now, atop the stress of the plans, the heist up around his ears, chained to every inch of his coat hem, is jongsuk whining and bitching about every little action jaewon makes. he knows he’s not the calmest person to keep tabs on, understands that he can be frustrating and unhealthy and burning, his gold eyes boring holes in everywhere he looks, but he didn’t allow jongsuk onto his ship, onto his crew, onto his life, just to put up with his bickering. jongsuk has a job, has a purpose, and ought to fulfill that purpose well. beyond that, jaewon is likely to knock his head off if he heightens the strain of the evening. shit is already too taunt.

he adjusts the tiny little microphone in his ear, the comm static making him wince for a moment before it calms down. “are you picking up my signal?”