the devil in disguise

(* smoking had always been his go to when the pressure became too much to handle and his frustration levels hit too high. the lighter gifted by jiyeon flicked on and off yet there was no cigarette to be seen. he knew the trembling of his hands wasn't due to a shortage of nicotine and that this pain could hardly be subsided by toxins. there really wasn't anything for him to properly vent out on and perhaps that was the biggest problem.) -- (* he lets out a sigh before finally pocketing the lighter. just seeing the thing sent him in a reel of painful memories and that's hardly anything he can handle right now. perhaps it's due time for a drink. yet, before he can make up his mind,  the silence of the courtyard is broken by the call of a familiar voice. his gaze darts over to the boy and he's not quite sure how to feel about his presence. it's a mix of anxiety and frustration but there's also relief and thankfulness somewhere in the ball of emotions.) ... hey. (* he's not deaf to the waver in luhan's voice. he's been by his side too long to not know the usual amount of confidence and tease he has in his tone. kris almost feels apologetic to the younger man but he can't muster the energy to pretend he's okay. at the very most, he can only reassure him with a light tease.) you make it sound like i don't usually prefer solitude in this school.

*exit wounds;

  ( / it’s a week of mourning, and joonmyun is in his finest black out of respect for the dead. park jiyeon is not someone he was personally close to, but she was someone he cared about. she was someone important to his best friend, his lover, his light and the loss, he knows, cut yifan deep. he can see it in his eyes, with the listless way he carries himself through the halls and hides in his bedroom during the day. he doesn’t even come to bother joonmyun and muss up his bedsheets, not to come sleep in his room — just stays locked up in side his room, and joonmyun can hardly blame him. he lost his love to something permanent. it’s no wonder he feels alone even though joonmyun — even though magneto, and others — are all there for him. ) — ( / but it’s too hard on him, he doesn’t see that and yifan all but disappears in the middle of the night, a whisper in the wind and joonmyun is his best friend. he’s the one that decides to forgo classes, to skip them and find yifan before he gets into too much trouble — joonmyun knows what yifan is capable of. more than likely, he’s searching for his own destruction. ) — ( / and it’s hard to find him. of course it is, yifan doesn’t want to be found and the city is so big. there’s only so many places that joonmyun can look, high and low as he searches but he stumbles upon a scuffle in an alley late one night and it’s yifan in the middle. ) .. ( / and even though joonmyun isn’t offensive, even though he’s not a fighter, he jumps in the middle; gets fists thrown at his cheek and back and ribs because he’s too busy trying to cover yifan’s much larger body with his own. ) what are you doing here —? ( / he winces at the pain but at least his appearance shocked the men into stopping and joonmyun opens his eyes finally to look at yifan, to see just how destroyed he really is. ) — .. ( / and he’s speechless. yifan is a mess. yifan is a bloody mess and joonmyun is terrified and he wonders why he didn’t find him sooner. he should have tried harder. it shouldn’t have come to this. ) are you not satisfied? ( / eyes narrowed and face unsmiling — for once in his life, kim joonmyun actually looks angry — and he turns to the men surrounding them and he knows that they probably won’t do it, but he tries anyway. it’s better to talk than to throw punches first. ) leave him. isn’t it enough? ( / and now he’s not sure if he’s talking to yifan or the men but this has to stop. this just has to stop. )

(* at some point, yifan staggers to the ground, managing to get a few decent hits to the man he's wrestled to the floor before his grip is pried loose. from there, it's all just a blur. alcohol pumping through his veins and receiving blows here and there, wu yifan looks as though hell itself had spat him back out. he doesn't even register his best friend's arrival until it's all too late.) -- (* the other's voice comes in a muffled form and he thinks it's joonmyun's figure he sees when he opens his eyes. he can't be sure. his head is still reeling from a kick  and his vision is blurred by blood. all he knows is that the physical attacks have stopped and the slow exit of adrenaline is leaving him with an aching body.) -- (* clumsily, he manages to rise to his feet, already teetering off balance the second he's up. a deranged laugh escapes him as soon as the air returns to his lungs and his smile is laced with blood. his gait is clumsy and sluggish so he leans his weight against the wall behind him. head lowered in that moment, yifan is the striking image of psychopath from the horror movies.) is that it? bunch of pansy motherfuckers. (* he curses under his breath, spitting out the blood that's collected in his mouth) just my fucking luck. (* he shoves himself off the wall and begins to stumble his way out of the alley. it seems his friend's words have gotten through to the strangers, or perhaps they've finally realized what a trainwreck of a man they'd been fighting. either way, none of them follow after the mutant's footsteps.)

forever and a day

(/ he wants to say something but the only thing that slips through his winter chapped lips is a disconcerting laugh, still baffled enough that, despite having a myriad of questions whirling around in his head, he’d been left speechless to an extent — how long has it been? how are you? you’ve been okay, right? when the fuck did you get so tall? ) you’re the fucker — (/ the shorter male laughs again and clasps a hand against yifan’s arm; a gentle squeeze to relay the words he wasn’t able to speak. he has actually genuinely missed this guy, and jiyong has to rack his mind temporarily — when did he last feel like this? solace was it? yeah, that’s what yifan was ) last time i saw you… i swear i was taller than your tiny ass (/ the older male scoffs, dropping his hand and staring at yifan with mock scrutiny; he sure did grow a lot ) hmm (/ he hums, a drop in his facade then and he nods with a rueful smile; how do you explain — and perhaps alter — the reasoning behind an abrupt loss of contact to someone you’ve only ever written words of raw honesty to? ) yeah, i’m back — (/ an unnecessary dry chuckle then ) i guess. 

(* jiyong's face brings a flood of memories and his voice a sweet remainder of what little good kris had in his childhood. they'd suffered together but also had a good time making a ruckus in each other's company. in the time that they had shared together, they had conquered the small world that they had made for themselves and he supposes it's one of the few things that had kept him going. ) yeah well that's what fucking happens when you decide to not show your face for years, hyung. (* the word is sarcastic on his lips but he only means it in jest.) -- (* it's almost an unconscious action for him to move on from his curiosity. yes, it would be nice to know what in the world had absorbed jiyong to the point that it'd taken him away from his life but he knows better than to pry. somethings are better left unsaid. yifan could attest to that personally.) so you enrolled here? (* he hums as he flashes a rare smile. it's an almost childlike excitement that's taking over him and it's one that he hadn't even known still existed in him up till this point.) if you're going to ask me to be your tour guide, you owe me a nice dinner.  

red rain ,

  ( / it’s a relief that yifan doesn’t fight him on this and agrees more quickly than he thought he would, but joonmyun smiles quickly before it fades. there’s too much work to be done and it requires a focused mind — can’t be distracted by momentary happiness. it would only fade anyway. ) — ( / joonmyun has always been a little in awe of the strength that yifan really possesses when he tries — if he was anything like his normal self, that game they played earlier that night would have been broken. it only just crosses his mind that he lost his prize somewhere along the way but it’s easily forgotten now. he slips beneath the equipment, thankful that he’s smaller — for once in his life, really. and his arms wrap around the boy crushed beneath the dirt. it worries him that he’s only semi -conscious, wounds pouring red in his hands and he’s sure there’s more than one bone crushed from the debris. he thinks. and thinks. then he says, ) yifan, you’re faster than me. ( / he looks down at the child in his arms and he knows that yifan will protest, but they don’t have time and time is of the essence. his eyes are serious when he looks up at his best friend and he tries to smile, he really does. he wonders what it looks like on his face. ) you need to take him out of here. he won’t last on his own. ( / and it’s true, the child is fading in and out of consciousness and he’s sure that yifan won’t care, that he’ll care more about joonmyun than some anonymous boy from the street but this is what they’re meant to do and joonmyun will be fine. he’ll be fine. ) take him away from here. i’ll be okay, just go.

(* he'd crawled and struggled through the pits of hell to get to where he stood today. only a few had even turned to spare him a second glance when the majority of the world turned its back on him. as such, he took on a similar mindset when he finally rose to a position of power. us against the world, only those closest to him would ever get him to stand by their side. so the words that come out of joonmyun's mouth sound like a string of nonsense to wu yifan. his eyes dart down to the wounded boy in his best friend's arms and all it garners is minimal sympathy. it's nothing compared to the worries he'll have if he were to leave joonmyun in this whirl of chaos. ) i'm not going. (* he protests, arms glued to his side in refusal to take the child. in truth, he knows joonmyun can be just as capable as he is. it's a different fear that's taking place that stemmed from the recent loss of his girlfriend. losing both his girl and his best friend in the same month would be the end of him. it's perhaps foolish but he doesn't know if he'd have the strength to carry on if he lost another. ) we're partners. i'm not leaving you here on your own. (* they're sitting ducks just waiting to be attacked but he can't bring himself to move. it's a rare moment of weakness for kris and while it may not seem it to others, he knows joonmyun understands it the best.)

smoke and wounds

He is a grown man He can do whatever He wants

red rain ,

  ( / joonmyun swallows the tight feeling in his throat and yifan’s words don’t really soothe, but they do help clear his head a little. the momentary lapse in his usual levelheaded psyche makes him bite his cheek and a sigh escapes his lips at the betrayal to himself. can’t be reliable if you panic. ) it’s fine. i’m fine. … ( / and as an afterthought. ) we’ll be fine. ( / he can’t help but keep his eyes peeled on the carnage and the panic in the streets and on the sidewalks; everywhere he looks there are people crying and people screaming and it breaks his heart as much as his training is kicking in and biting him in the rear. he needs to do something. he needs yifan to want to do something. as much as six years of combat and melee training has given him, he can’t do this alone. this is why they work in teams. he needs yifan. he always has. ) — ( / and relief comes over his features, a quick half -hearted smile that falls almost as immediately as it was drawn on his face, before he puts himself in the lead — eyes focused on that poor child he saw earlier. ) we need to help him first.

(* playing hero has never suited him. no amount of missions and training can convince him otherwise. if it wasn't for the fact that there were his fellow students out there, the outcome of his decision may have been very different. he may have opted to just save his own and his best friend's life but as it is, things are not that way and so he shakes the thought and focuses on their rescue.) alright. (* he agrees with a quick nod. times like these hardly allow for much arguing but thankfully, he already originally wholeheartedly trusted his partner.) -- (* as they near the young boy, he allows his mutation to take hold. his hands wrap around the lighting equipment and with the help of the freak strength of his powers, he easily pulls it off the crushed child) quick get him.  

(* chaos is a familiar friend to wu yifan. even soaking in the blood of innocent bystanders has him alarmed at most.) calm down. (* he warned if only to give joonmyun a remainder. there was enough panic going around without them adding to it. in any case, it wasn't as though his mutation gave him any leeway for it.) -- (* at the other's question, he falls into deep contemplation. it'd be an easy feat to clear up room in his monster form but it would only alarm the humans in the festival even more. his training also says to stay back and help but he's admittedly worried for his best friend.) don't get yourself killed. (* he ultimately grumbles, knowing joonmyun would choose to stick behind and help. with reluctance, he releases his hold on his friend and motions him to lead the way.) 

containment || adv. program

happy's not my style. (* he sarcastically sneers at his best friend's request. in truth, it is a joke though. despite whatever circumstances may make others and himself believe.) ... how's your ... eye? (* he questions with a slight embarrassed cough. he'd never asked for the other to jump in but the fact that joonmyun had so willing stepped between him and the others is not something that he can brush over easily, especially when the other had visible woulds. perhaps it wasn't the greatest way of payment but he'd agreed to attending the festival if only to make it up for this incident.) joonmyun please. (* he sighs as he skeptically eyes the brightly lit game. he's not quite sure if he's ready for fun just yet, especially such a cheesy game as this, but it seems he doesn't have much choice. with a little push and shove here and there, he soon finds himself with the hammer in hand and feet at the edge of the target zone.) you've gotta be kidding ... (* he sighs under his breath. with a light roll of his eyes, he halfheartedly swings the hammer down against the game and the light soars on the meter in response, just barely moving past the halfway point. hardly a respectable score for a man his size ) .... .... (* :l)