#(don't have that for germany - that one's small but enough for me)

[pepimeinrad]

I’ve decided that I want to start collecting flags. but only from countries that 

1. I’ve been to AND 2. can sing the anthem of.

I’ve got a German and a Canadian flag. others that I should but don’t yet have (in order of how much I want them):

Wales

Sweden

Norway

Belgium

Italy

Switzerland

France

Austria

Spain

England

[woso-dreamzzz]

Youth Team

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The final of the Under-17 Euros

Your call-up to join Denmark's Under-17 team comes on a random Wednesday.

You're freshly fifteen and have just gotten back from practice, throwing your hair up into a ponytail and shoving your dirty keeper gloves into the washing machine.

"I'm home!"

You don't really expect anyone to answer but Momma appears in front of you in an instant, a phone tucked under her ear.

"It's for you," She says and you take it in confusion - unsure of who would call your Momma instead of just you.

"Hello?"

"Is this y/n?" The voice on the other line asks. It's a little weird hearing someone call you by your name like that. Your mothers never outgrew calling you your childhood nickname and everyone at training just called you by your last name.

"Er...Yes?"

You can hear their smile down the phone and something unknown stirs within you.

"I'm calling on behalf of Denmark's Under Seventeen Squad. We'd be delighted to have you join us at camp this year."

You're speechless for a moment, eyes wide in shock as you look at Momma, who is smiling and nodding at you.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'd love to come!"

"Excellent. Details will be sent to your mothers and we look forward to seeing you at Viborg soon."

That was months ago now and, as you slip into your kit, you can't help but think back on it. You're still fifteen, one of the youngest on the squad but you've still managed to clinch the first keeper position from your sixteen-year-old counterpart.

You're up against Germany (but everybody already knew that you would be, they'd been on a winning streak since before you were born) and you take the time before kick-off to take steadying breaths.

Eriksson-Harder is on the back of your jersey. It was a small consolation prize for Morsa, putting her last name first on your back after you chose Denmark over Sweden for the youth teams. Sweden had called too, only several hours too late and you had to reject their offer in favour of Denmark.

Morsa had been a bit miffed but after you promised to put her name first, she was placated (if only for a moment before she arrogantly reminded Momma that you had all the time in the world to choose Sweden's senior team).

"Alright there?" One of your teammates asks as you ready yourself to walk out.

"Peachy," You say sarcastically," Just..." You shrug. "At least try to keep them from getting close enough to shoot?"

She laughs. "It's Germany. I don't think we get that luxury."

She's right because most of the match is spent viciously defending your clean sheet.

You jump.

You dive.

You punch.

You do everything in your power to keep the German goals from taking this from you.

"Come on!" You yell in triumph as you narrowly grab onto the ball. The speed at which it came at you nearly winds you but you recover quickly, kicking it quickly to one of your defenders to send it further up the pitch. "Come at me!"

It's a vicious game and your whole uniform is dirty and raked with mud from the amount of times that you have dived to the ground to stop the ball.

It all comes to a head though when the ninety minutes are up and neither team has scored.

Penalties.

You despise penalties with all your heart (although you're incredibly skilled at them). They're the bane of your existence (but at this point, you don't know that you'll never let one in throughout your entire career). It's made even worse when Denmark starts it off. The ball tips out of target.

You step up.

Shot.

Deflect.

It goes on for a few excruciating rounds. None of your penalty takers seem to be able to score and you're left to make sure that Germany can't either.

Shot.

Deflect.

Shot.

Deflect.

Shot.

Deflect.

Finally though, on the fifth kick, your captain manages to just squeeze one past Germany's keeper and you're left to make sure it stays that way.

If this next ball goes through, it's more penalties.

If not...Well you knew what happened if it didn't go in.

You bounce on your feet, gloves up and ready as Germany's captain readies herself.

She looks like she's aiming right.

The crowd is silent.

She kicks the ball.

You move left...

And catch the ball in your hands easily.

The stadium erupts.

You scream. Your team mobs you and suddenly everyone is talking over each other and laughing and crying and screaming their joy for everyone to see.

You break from the group, still clutching the ball in your hands as you run to the crowd.

To Momma and Morsa.

Tears are spilling down your cheeks as you hop the railing and crash into their arms.

You're not quite sure who's at your front and who's at your back but you just know that Morsa and Momma are here and they're holding you and you've just won the Under-17 Euros.

You're still crying as you pull away to see Momma's the one in front of you. She's crying too, cupping your face and raining kisses on your forehead.

"You did so well, princesse." Morsa's still holding you from behind. "So well. We're so proud of you."

"Denmark's first goalkeeper," Momma says," Winning on penalties."

You grin, your tears having run dry even as you're still overwhelmed by emotions. "So you think I'll stay first keeper?"

Morsa laughs from behind you and you turn around to face her, seeing the pride shining in her eyes. "Definitely. Although, hopefully, you won't stick with Denmark."

"I don't know," Momma teases," She's just won her first Euros. I'd say that staying with Denmark might be her good luck charm."

"She's going to be good enough not to need luck."

You have to break away from them to collect your medal and have a little hold of the trophy but you head straight back.

You take off your medal as soon as you reach them and place it around Momma's neck.

"There'll be more," You promise her and Morsa," There'll be so many more."

[neil-gaiman]

Dear Neil,

I hope you're fine!

In 2023 one of the nicest and reveberating thing, that happened to me, was, that I got know Terry's work and after some time, your works too, and, of course Good Omens (yeah...I don't know either, what took me so long...😉).

So, thank you so much for your written universe, I feel totally comfortable in it!

Some time ago, I also got your rewriting of the fairytale "Hänsel and Gretel" by the Brothers Grimm in my hands. I totally like how you made it your own in some way, but also did not disregard its core about wits, endurance, gumption and love. And I have high standards😊, because I grew up with all the Grimm's fairytales and I, even as a small kid, disliked the editions, which tried to paint over fear, sorrow and in some tales, violence and horror, too. Without these plots the solution in the end would just be half the relìef! As you said in your review about Tatars The Annotaited Brothers Grimm the fairtyales are magic mirrors about the world we see or we want to see and which we have to cope and deal with every day.

My three favourite ones are

1.Die Bremer Stadtmusikanten/The Town Musicians of Bremen

Even if your closest people tell you, you are not enough (anymore), you don't fit in and you are worthless, you one day, will find your bunch of soulmates, who are good for you and you can the hell Rock'n Roll with!

2. Die sieben Raben/The seven Ravens

The girl does not wait for some Prince Charming. She herself gets stuff done and does not get herself haunted by some mistakes her parents did years ago.

3. Das tapfere Schneiderlein/The valiant dressmaker

Sometimes weird and spontanous decision can turn your whole life around, in a good way, because they give you the self-consciousness to get it on.

And (finally, sorry) here come my questions:

1. Which are your favourite fairytales of the Brothers Grimm?

2. And why?

I wish you and your family a very merry Christmas, or holidays, and a very good year!

Have fun with Good Omens 3! ❤🌠

Greetings from Germany!

I like your choices, although I'd swap Hansel and Gretel for the Musicians of Bremen.

[verysium]

how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!

thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:

sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.

kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)

rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.

yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.

isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.

bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.

barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.

[pasteidolons]

COME WHAT MAY - LSM

pairing: lee seokmin x female reader, one-sided hong jisoo x reader members: kim mingyu, yoon jeonghan, choi hansol (vernon), xu minghao, boo seungkwan genre: historical au (early 1900’s)/historical fiction, angst, fluff,  warnings: injuries, coarse language, alcohol, smoking, political insurgence, smut (next part, mdni), historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 22.1k summary: you follow hong jisoo to kyoto after a troubling letter sends you spiraling. among the faces of new friends, a bond is formed and fate begins to tightly weave itself around you and lee seokmin.

MASTERLIST || PART II

[ 1909.04.01. Boston, MA ] ‘Josh,

I feel enough time has adequately passed to allow me to write to you. Although, there is not much news from home to tell you of. 

The snow is fast disappearing now. I came across an article in the paper the other day about Boston and it said that 14 or 15 years ago bears used to roam around the northern end of the city, but there seems to be nothing around now except the wild fowl, and an uncountable number of deer. 

How are your hands now? I know that the winter air dries yours as it does mine. Mine are very cut, so scattered with paper trails that I fear I should bleed ink from all the books that you left me. Have you been able to acquire any more on your travels? I find that the supply you gave me is running rather low now. 

You left for Munich enquiring after Daniel Lim if I recall the name correctly, I hope you found him in good health on your arrival. I also hope he does not overwork you, you said as much happened the last you worked under him in London.

I am very pleased to say I am keeping very well, and I trust you are the same. If anything happens, know that I will gladly storm my way across the sea and give your wrongdoers what for.

I miss you. And I hope you return soon, you know I love to hear about your travels.’

A short chuckle to yourself as you pull the pen away from the paper after signing your name, ink stains settling into the grooves of your fingers as you aren’t cautious enough with the writing implement. Short blows over the thin paper as you try to dry the ink as quickly as possible, although this isn’t the sweltering heat of the summer you’re unsurprised the ink hasn't run but so much. Carefully standing from your seat you begin your search around the room for an envelope, fingers brushing over various stacks of papers and novellas lying around your workspace. Eventually you find a weathered, but perfectly usable one underneath a dog-eared copy of Jane Eyre. You address the letter to his newest residence, some boarding house in Germany, but you aren't sure if he is even staying there anymore. If that doesn't work out and one of your letters is stamped “Return to Sender” once more, you’ll just have to wait for him to send you something first. It seems like you are always waiting after Josh. Not that you mind much, you had been as thick as thieves as teenagers and that had hardly ever changed, even after he’d decided to go abroad and study, then go onto some teaching stints wherever the wind blew him.

As you return to your seat you hear gentle meowing outside, head peering over your desk and out of the glass panes into the garden below you spot a small gray and white tabby looking up at you. A sigh escaping your lips as you move to grab your pen once more, beginning to write a post scriptum,

‘p.s. Your lovely feral cat has now decided that I take ownership of her in your absence. Is there a name you prefer I call her?’

You hope he can understand your tone, it’s an issue of yours that the words you write sometimes don't hit their mark. Regardless, you’d send the letter and hear his thoughts on it whenever he has the gaul to write back. You straighten your back from your hunched position and move through the house, your fingers tracing along the smooth walls until you reach the door leading into the garden, it lay nestled in the corner of the kitchen. There’s a faint scratching as you approach, only opening it to find the same tabby waiting for you, it barrels inside once it sees an opportunity.

“You wretch,” tsking as she begins brushing up against your leg. “What am I going to do with you?”

[ 1909.04.30. 今出川, 京都 ] The ground crunches underfoot as Seokmin walks; the pavement, covered with a thin layer of grit from a small windstorm that had picked up an hour or so prior, feels as if it’s shifting as his leather soled shoes move over it. The storm having left its mark and not going to disappear until a rain shower decides to wash it away, he breathes in the particles still floating through the unseasonably balmy weather. A small frown as he fans his jacket, allowing some air to circulate under the thick fabric. Had it not been impolite, he would have shed the garment as soon as he stepped out of the train station only minutes ago. His hand still wrapped around his bag he looks to the signs adorning the tops of businesses along the road. Seokmin was never great at learning hanja, so when it came time for him to begin learning the already different kanji and further hiragana and katakana that would come along with his trip abroad, he thought he might set out to find a tutor during his time here. Hand moving to rummage around the inside of his jacket, he procures a worn letter from its depths. ‘今出川 居酒屋,’ it is the only thing foreign to him within the contents of the scripture, the sender had asked to meet him there for lunch on the second day of Seokmin’s arrival to Kyoto.

Seokmin finds the bar after walking a few more blocks, north from the station and hidden away behind a bookstore in a back alley. Before he enters, he pauses. His grip on the letter tightening, the parchment creasing from the increased pressure as the slight tingly pervasiveness of guilt begins to wrack him from the inside out. A look to his left, and then to his right, a ghost of a figure in his peripheral, deterring him from running from the drinkery. It drives him closer, away from an inevitable future and towards the uncertain present. 

A haze of smoke blankets the air as he enters, that of tobacco intermingling with the small fire stoking in the back of the bar. It invades his nose rather viciously, itching the back of his throat and causing tears to form in the corners of his eyes as he greets the hostess with a small ‘Hello’ and ‘A table, please.’ She guides him and he settles down at a chabudai towards the front of the building, almost with enough of a view so that he can peer past the two small curtains at the entrance and into the street.

The letter now resting atop the table and his bag by its side, he reaches into his jacket yet again to procure an almost empty pack of cigarettes and a newly bought lighter. He had run out of fluid during his journey across the sea and he thought that buying a new one would be a novel idea to commemorate his trip. Seokmin’s eyes wander around the enclosed space as he scans the faces of the patrons. Most are men but there is the occasional woman mingling among the crowd as well. Cigarette placed on his lips, lighter spewing to life and igniting the end as he takes a deep breath in. Seokmin hates smoking, hates the way it pierces his lungs with its inky black vapors. It leaves his breath smelling awful, but it is just something people do to pass the time, and it calms him if only for a quiet moment. Fingers finding the cigarette, he removes it for a moment, tapping it against a small silver dish atop the table, the ashes pooling at the bottom as he continues to look for someone he hasn’t met yet.

“Did you want to order anything else?” A voice to his right calls out, he jumps slightly before turning, only to find the kimono clad waitress at his side. She sets down a tray of dishes, some foods he recognizes, and some he thinks to be the local cuisine.

“Oh, no thank you.” As his eyes look over the food, he moves to rest his cigarette in the ashtray to come back for later.

The woman gives a short smile and brief nod before speaking again, “Please let me know if you need anything.” Even after she had walked away, Seokmin could feel her eyes lingering on him like a child seeing some sort of marvel for the first time. This is not to say that he thinks that highly of himself, just that he knows that he is an outsider in a foreign place, his accent could tell anyone as much.

“I think she likes you.” A voice speaks up when Seokmin goes to take a bite out of the onigiri on his tray.

Mouth half full and brow furrowed in confusion, Seokmin turns to face wherever the voice had come from, “What did you say?” Chewing his food and swallowing rather harshly, he almost chokes as he thinks he’s going insane after hearing what sounded like Korean. This time it was a man who spoke, he was sitting at another table across from him, a shifty grin on his face. Something about him seemed different from everyone else in the bar, but the man couldn’t quite put a finger on it in this dimly lit room.

“She’s still staring at you.” The other man answers, now standing up and proceeding to walk over to him. “But it’s not like she’s hearing me say that anyway,” He laughs, brushing his hands against the lapels of his jacket.

Now in a better light, the man can get a better view of this stranger. “Are you Korean too?” He asks in his native tongue, feeling much more relieved that the burden of speaking a different language is momentarily sated.

“Did I give myself away that easily?” Another laugh as the man settles down in the seat adjacent. He pauses for a moment, his eyes staring into Seokmin’s as if he’s trying to memorize his facial features. “You wouldn’t happen to be Lee Dokyeom, would you?”

“Seokmin, actually– That’s just a teasing name.” He clears his throat. “I am,” Eyes glancing at the letter still atop the table, Seokmin comes to a realization, “Are you Yoon Jeonghan?”

“I am,” he smiles as he extends his hand. Less practiced with western formality Seokmin looks at the greeting for a moment before raising his own to formally address him, “It’s nice to meet you.” After a moment they drop their hands away from each other, Jeonghan’s gaze shifting to watch the hostess move his food from his old table to the one he now shares with Seokmin. “With an accent like that you must be from the south, Daegu, maybe?”

“Suji, actually.” He returns to his food for a moment, Jeonghan taking this time to also take a few bites from his own bento. “Where did you learn Japanese?”

“Did Jisoo not tell you?” Jisoo is their mutual friend, he’d given Seokmin Jeonghan’s contact information to inquire if he had any availability to tutor him. “I studied with him when we were in college, I moved here a year after we graduated. I had my parents move here once my mother became ill so I could better look after her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Seokmin frowns, shifting as he sets his chopsticks down. The two must have met after Seokmin had left his schooling to return to his family, per their wishes. 

A smile, “She made a perfect recovery and even returned home. I, however, am still trying my luck here.” Jeonghan reaches for the porcelain flask of sake the hostess had brought over, pouring himself a small glass then offering one to Seokmin. The younger politely refuses, still not accustomed to the savoriness of the drink, as Jeonghan nods and knocks back his own cup before speaking again. “When can you start classes? We typically meet for an hour or two every day if we can.”

“We?” Seokmin is caught up on the word, he thought these would be private lessons, not an actual class. He leans forward, somewhat anxious at the thought of his abysmal language skills to be put on show for more than one audience member.

“Just a handful of other students from all over the place,” Shoulders shrugging, Jeonghan leans backwards, hands placed atop his knees as he stretches his back. “We have a few Korean and Chinese kids, even a Canadian student as well. Not everyone’s at the same level so you shouldn’t worry too much about it.” He smiles, toothy and carefree as if there wasn’t an unhappy thought that had ever crossed him, Seokmin somewhat resents the uncertain assumption he made. “The schoolhouse isn’t too far away from here actually; did you want to stop by?” Hand motioning towards the doorway, Jeonghan’s head tilts inquisitively.

“I actually have to check in at the hotel I’m staying in, my parents told me to write whenever I arrived and I’ve been putting that off for a while,” A sigh escapes him. Seokmin had been thinking about what to pen for the past day and a half but couldn’t muster the strength to go through with it. He’d left on rocky terms and was expecting to be hounded whenever they responded. “I’ll stop by tomorrow when you have class if that’s alright?”

“Fine by me,” He’s now searching his own pockets, finding a pen and reaching out for the letter near Seokmin. Jeonghan scribbles down something, a few kanji that Seokmin can’t decipher, and hands him the paper back, “Classes start at ten, when you’re in the area just ask someone if they know where this is and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

“Thanks,” Seokmin looks down to the paper, seeing in his periphery that Jeonghan was already on his feet, straightening his jacket as he begins to head over to the waitress.

Seokmin sees him say something but can’t make out what, it’s only when Jeonghan turns to him and speaks that he can ascertain the meaning, “Don’t worry about paying this time, you’ll have to treat me to lunch some other day.” And with that Seokmin finds himself alone once more in the tavern.

[ 1909.04.30. Boston, MA ] The letter had arrived early in the morning, but you had been out in town with your mother attending some group function that you didn't want to be a part of in the first place. So, when you walk into your own little study and see it lying atop your things you race over and tear open the seal adorning it.

‘When I arrived in Munich, my work left me so urgent that I could not write in time before I left again. I thus deferred it to a point where I once again found myself with solid footing. It rains heavily in Seoul today; my travels have taken me here instead of crossing the Atlantic.

Currently I am holding a tutoring position for the American consulate’s son. I expect to hold this position for some time before I return home to Boston. 

Tell my mother not to fuss over me too much, if anything I implore her to look after you. Of all people, other than your own family, she knows of the antics you pursue.

I was able to sneak out a few books from Munich, upon my return I swear to you that you will have the greatest library in all America- no, the world, even.

If I were a better artist, or wealthy enough to photograph, I would show you how beautiful my journey across the world has been. Although so much has changed in Seoul since I held my studies here. I cannot help but have the inklings of melancholy eat away as I recall the memories and compare them to what I see now. This will come to pass, I hope. 

I hear the boy calling for me now— My writing will have to cease here, I fear. Send my affection to your family, I know they miss me as much as you do.

With all the love I can muster,

x Josh

p.s. I think I have decided to call her Minnie, please refer to her as that accordingly.’

While scattered with his familiarities and humor, the letter seems all too short, all too hurried. Your lips purse as you read over it, brow furrowing as a small knot in your stomach begins to form. Thumb rubbing over the x marking his name the worry only grows ever more prevalent, you pull your eyes away from the words and begin to rummage around for your own writing implements and paper, wanting to respond to him as quickly as possible.

‘Josh,

Your letter left much to be desired. Seoul? Your mother anxiously awaits your return any day now, before you left you said you would only be gone until early May at most. I hope that nothing unsavory has happened, God knows you find yourself in trouble more than any other man I know. 

Please let her know that you are safe, I fear that she may follow after you should you be gone any longer. A son should never burden his mother with his absence for an extended period, I can only keep her company for so long before her weariness sets in and she longs to see you. 

She also knitted you a pair of gloves, seeing as you left your moth-eaten ones behind. I know the air is growing warmer, but it is somewhat endearing to see how doting she is over you. Please, ease her mind by writing.’

[ 1909.04.30.-1909.04.31.  今出川ホテル, 京都 ] Seokmin eventually finds himself standing at the small entrance of a hotel, the name written in cursive English on a wooden sign above the doorway. Jisoo had recommended the inn, saying that it would be one of the more accepting places to stay at as a foreigner. It has a somewhat Victorian looking façade, contrasting the traditional Japanese styled buildings around it, he wonders why that is as he ascends the handful of steps to the door, struggling ever so slightly while lugging his bag behind him. As the door swings open, he’s greeted by an elderly woman with a rather round face, “Good evening,” she smiles and ushers him inside. “Did you need a room for the night? Or do you have a reservation?”

Mind fogging as he struggles to keep up, “Apologies, my Japanese isn’t—” The stone floor clicking underfoot as he follows her to the main desk.

“Ah, Korean?” It’s accented, but he appreciates it nonetheless. “Do you have a reservation?” Her hands dance along a worn leather book atop the desk, flipping it open as she looks down a list of names, some of those which are crossed out and some of which are not.

“I do,” He nods his head with a short smile, “It should be under Lee.”

Humming as she runs her finger down the list, as her head turns upward it causes Seokmin to return his attention to her, “Mr. Lee Heesung or Mr. Lee Seokmin?”

“Lee Seokmin,” he says, shifting his weight from foot to foot, mentally hitting himself as he should’ve been more specific. Eyes scanning the list, Seokmin takes a short look around the interior of the inn. The space is smaller than he imagined, but rather cozy. A glowing fire going to warm the chill of the night, large armchairs beside it and the largest bookshelf he’s ever seen built around the hearth.

“Wonderful,” She smiles, turning her back to him to find his room key from a small drawer behind the desk. Before she faces him again fully, she shifts through a small stack of papers atop the desk, “This also came for you,” The woman reaches to pull out a thin card from the stack, it has both hangul and kanji printed on it so it was easy to assume it’d come from his homeland.

“Thank you,” He smiles back before taking the telegram and tucking it into his jacket pocket. She hands him the key and he’s off to find his hotel room. It lays up the staircase and down a winding corridor, as he passes by some of the rooms, he can hear the muffled voices of a few of the other patrons, speaking languages he can mildly understand and others that sound alien. Once he finds his room, he’s all too giddy to throw himself onto the bed. Door locked, shoes and suitcase strewn aside he falls onto the plush bed, his eyes watching the ceiling as the weight of sleep begins to take over his vision.

Broken sunlight filters into the room, the shades drawn enough only to allow sharp slants of light to come through. The city outside is bustling whereas the hotel room seems almost vacant of any form of noise, save for the sound of soft breathing as the occupant sleeps. Lee Seokmin continues to snore softly, dreaming of something sweet enough to add a slight curvature to his lips. He rolls in his slumber, the telegram received in the night folding under his weight, unbeknownst to him.

Three swift knocks rouse him from the depths of slumber. He bolts up, raising a hand to run through his hair as a frown of confusing forms on his lips, wiping away whatever essence of his dream remained. “Are you awake?” A voice rings out seconds after the rapping. It’s the woman from the night before, Seokmin was too tired to connect the dots quite yet.

“Yes,” He responds groggily, moving to allocate his footing onto the floor. He hears soft footsteps leading away from his door, he supposes his wakeup call is completed. Rummaging around his wrinkled jacket-pocket he pulls out his timepiece, the clock reveals that it is seven forty-five in the morning, he has two hours before his lessons begin. Letting out a soft groan, he places the watch away and pushes himself onto his feet. His knees creaking and cracking as he rises and stretches out his arms, signaling that his sleep must’ve been docile. Once again, his hand moves to his jacket as he recalls the telegram, now crumpled in the crevasses of his pocket. Seokmin pulls out the card, walking to draw open the shades to allow more reading light in.

“Lee Seokmin,” He mumbles out, reading over the first, short line as the sleep is rubbed from his eyes. ‘Mom and Dad are going to kill you if you continue to ignore them. For my sake, please write. - Seoyeon’

An audible scoff after he’s finished reading, he can almost hear his sister’s tone. Seokmin does care about his family, but his sister is as much on his parents’ side as he is against it, it is a giant rift in their already teetering relationship.

The telegram tossed onto the bed as Seokmin takes off his jacket, he has been avoiding his familial issues for a while now and it seems as if they have come back to bite him in the ass. It isn’t entirely his fault for doing so, his father was never a good listener and Seokmin’s ideas were always pushed asunder.

A few moments later he finds himself in a fresh set of clothes, ready to face the day. In truth, he is dreading his lessons but at least it will provide some relief from thinking about the drama happening back in Suji. His shoes drag along the wooden floor as he steps out of his room, locking it with the small, gilded key behind him. Once in the hallway, his posture straightens as he begins to make his way towards the staircase that would lead him into the main lobby. The crushed emerald, green velvet railing runs under his fingers as he descends, swiftly moving into his pockets once his feet land on the granite tiles splaying out an ocean of deep gray below him.

A thin beam of light shines in through the slit in the door of the entranceway, the windows attached to the door are covered in the same crushed velvet encasing the staircase via curtain. It feels like he is in a black hole with how dimly lit the interior of the building is. Eventually he makes his way through the lobby, past the plumes of smoke belonging to the lackadaisical men resting in overly decadent armchairs smoking out of their kiserus.

Seokmin shuffles his way to the front desk, a younger woman manning it instead of the elderly woman from the night prior. “Can I help you?” Voice sullen sounding, or maybe tired, Seokmin still isn’t awake enough yet to dissect it fully. 

Reaching into his pocket, pulling out the letter from Jeonghan with the name of the school, “I’m looking for this?”

The girl leans over the desk, it’s easy to tell the yukata she wears is inhibiting her from her full range of motion. Eyes reading the characters carefully, “Whoever wrote this has awful handwriting,” She mutters under her breath and Seokmin can’t understand it entirely. “It’s about a fifteen-minute walk that way,” Hand raising to motion southward, “When you see the sweets shop you should turn right, and it will be a few buildings down on your right.”

A nod of his head as he thinks he caught most of her instruction. He takes the paper back and tucks it away, thanking her as he makes for the door. The heat greets him with a gentle breeze, an inkling of warmth as to what’s in store for later in the day. Seokmin looks to the sky, to see where the sun is positioned so he is able to gauge the direction he was supposed to go. He sets off, pace not brisk or lax, merely at a stride to absorb what’s around him. It’s still early in the morning, plenty of time before the school day begins to wander the streets for a bit.

The street’s crowded, thinning in places where it seems more residential than not, it reminds him of home. Different feel, different language but it has a strange nostalgic aura about it. A sweetness hitting his nose as he approaches a small wooden building, he can’t read what it is but by the smells emanating from it he supposes that it’s the sweet shop the girl at the hotel had told him to turn at. Head tilting to peer down the street, it looks like nothing of note. As he stands there, presumably looking more confused than the average local, he feels a finger gently tap on his shoulder, “Are you lost?”

The voice comes as a surprise, turning Seokmin on his heels to come face to face with a stranger. Eyes wide as he looks the boy over, “A little bit... I’m looking for,” reaching into his pockets as the other stops him.

“Are you Lee Seokmin?” It seems as if everyone here knew of him before he could introduce himself. Before he can speak, a nod of affirmation rattles through him and the other smiles, “Jeonghan said that we’d be getting a new student in today.” Hand outstretching, Seokmin’s a little more practiced with the greeting now, “My name’s Kim Mingyu, I can show you the way to the school if you want?”

“It’s nice to meet you,” He gives a brief smile before another nod of his head, “I’d really appreciate it.”

[ 1909.05.06. San Francisco, CA ] If anything were to be your downfall, it would be that of your impatience. You’d been sitting down with Josh’s mother, a woman you likened to your own family when the one back home was too involved in her own business, when the news broke. She was kind, offered you tea and as always had the little tin of biscuits you loved when you were a child sitting atop the tea tray, and then graciously divulged to you that her son was currently under police custody in Tokyo when the last you’d heard he’d been in Seoul. It would explain the absence of letters, or inability to write. Upon questioning her further you realize that maybe he was in far greater a circumstance than he left you off thinking.

It isn’t a matter of asking your parents to ship you off to a foreign land, it’s a matter of when and how soon you can leave. The money sitting in the dank vault of your late grandmother’s account had laid in wait for some sort of use, and she had wanted you to use it to fulfill some sort of errant dream of yours after her passing. You couldn’t find it within yourself to touch it, seeing it as too prized and too treasured a thing to take away from for some frivolous means. But your grandmother had liked Joshua, the late one on your father’s side and not the vile one from your mother’s. She had treated him kindly whenever he had stopped by, sometimes even saying that she had wished him her grandson more than the monsters that were your cousins. You think that is reason enough to pull from your funds and splurge on a rescue mission to Japan. There were several people you’d known that had been there before, detailing it as a curious place but had neglected to tell you why; you don’t think of the language or cultural barriers separating you until you’re standing on a pier in San Francisco, waiting for your ship to dock.

The brine of the sea had never settled well in your stomach, salty on your lips and your cheeks as the coastal winds torrent towards you. Your ship doesn’t leave for a while yet but the queasiness felt on the decks of other ships returns to the pit of your stomach with a ghostlike vengeance. Perhaps it is anxiousness that riddles you instead of the fear of the sea.

 “Im-a-de-ga-wa Gai-ko-ku-jin Ni-hon-go Ga-kko” words falling from your lips in strange and oblong vowels and consonants that were almost completely incorrect. Joshua had mentioned it in the letter to his mother, detailing that should she not hear from him for another month to contact the school and ask for the aid of a Mr. Jeonghan Yoon, a friend that he’d talked about in passing a few times. Apparently, he is a persuasive sort that would most definitely help him out should the occasion arise. Or so Josh had put it, you aren't really sure what to think of him.

Josh’s mother had insisted that it had been a mix up at customs but a bitter taste in your mouth and gut wrenching feeling in your stomach told you otherwise. He was a rebellious spirit and had probably said a few choice words that had gotten him in trouble, he had said his Japanese wasn’t great but he had learned a handful of colorful phrases from the aforementioned friend in University that could definitely be taken the wrong way by unknowing ears.

If the seas are steady and your luck is good, maybe you can reach him within a month. If not, a week or so longer but you’re not sure if the anticipation of it all would let you, you might jump ship and hope to swim there faster should such a situation arise. Again, impatience being your downfall you can barely stand just watching the large metal steamship land at port and empty its passengers before you were to board.

The air is salty, the gentle spray of foam from the shore landing on your cheeks carefully as you look towards the ship that is to be your dwelling for the next portion of your life. Maybe you shouldn’t have come alone, taken a chaperone or a friend with you, but you were worried, too crunched for time to even entertain the thought as you packed your bags and told your mother you were taking the first train out of town. Your face still stings with the remembrance of the slap she’d given you in her frenzy, calling you something along the lines of a girl too thoughtless to know her role. By no means a heartfelt way to leave her, but your father had said to go, knowing a little more than your mother how much Josh means to you.

Your bags, brown leather and worn from the days when your father was still youthful enough to travel, lay at your feet as the thin paper ticket folds under your grasp. The chatter from the crowds around you mixes in with shouts of vendors and merchants lining the docks over the squalls of seagulls overhead. It’s all too much when your mind is racing with concern, although not too much to deter you from a gentle tapping on your shoulder.

“I think you dropped this?” Deep voice causing you to turn on your heels and face the perpetrator. When you do, you’re greeted with your passport being held out to you and a dimpled smile to go along with a rather dashing face.

“Oh,” Eyebrows raised as you reach out to gingerly take your own booklet from the other, you hadn’t realized its absence since you had thought it stowed away in the depths of your handbag. “Thank you—?” A pause as you wait for an introduction.

“Hansol Choi, or Vernon, whichever is easiest for you,” he nods and then you offer your name before he speaks again. “It was really no problem,” he continues with a smile as he looks down to the bags at your feet, “Did you just get back or are you going somewhere?”

“Well, thank you Mr. Choi.” The innate curiosity of the stranger is mildly perplexing, “I’m off to Tokyo.”

“Tokyo,” his tone faltering as his hand drops down to his side after you begin stowing the passport back away in the small purse slung over your shoulder. “What business is taking you there?”

You pause as you think, it isn’t exactly family troubles or business matters that are taking you across the Pacific, stubbornness, and inability to take your friend for everything he said, more like it. “A friend settled there a little while ago,” a nod after a moment of silence, “it seems that he has gotten himself into a little trouble, so I’m going to make sure everything is alright.” Absentmindedly patting the bag as you can see the other mull it over in his head, “What about you? Are you heading in or out?”

“Out,” The answer is almost immediate, a shift on his feet as he straightens his posture. “I’m heading to Korea; I haven’t seen my family in almost seven years.”

“Seven years?” The most Josh had been gone was the three years he spent studying abroad; you can’t imagine someone gone from your life for that amount of time. “What were you here for?”

“I was staying with a group of missionaries as I went through college,” Hands in his pockets as he turns to the blue horizon overlooking the ocean you are both meant to traverse, “Now that I’ve graduated there’s nothing keeping me here.”

“What will you do when you’re-” you begin to speak when a loud whistle blares from the port your ship had saddled up to. Growing quiet as you begin to hear the general buzz of the people around you grow as they begin to shuffle towards the bridge that linked the port to the steamship. “I guess it’s time,” Reaching to pick up your bags, the leather against your palm somewhat soothing your nerves, “are you boarding too?”

A shake of his head, “My ship doesn’t leave until the afternoon.”

“Ah,” the sound leaving your lips as the thought of, perhaps, having someone to accompany you on your journey was swiftly diminished. “Well,” A small smile gracing your lips, “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Choi.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” his smile returns, “Safe travels.”

“And to you,” You nod as you begin to walk towards the front port, looking down to your hand to make sure that your ticket is still in hand.

[ 1909.05.16. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] “It’s not kūremashita, it's agemashita.” writing on a chalkboard, the dust from the small white stick clinging to the ends of Jeonghan’s jacket as he scrawls out the hiragana. “Unless you’re thankful that Seokmin’s parents give him money?” A smattering of laughter echoing the room as he tries to teach the handful of students how to show appreciativeness and the reporting of it to others. “Try one more time.” Seokmin sits back in his chair and looks at a pink cheeked Seungkwan who leans over his notes in an attempt to reconcile his verbal mistake.

There’s another try from the dark-haired man, it sounds good enough to Seokmin but apparently, the structure of the sentence needs more tweaking, as seen by Jeonghan giving out a small sigh before walking to Seungkwan’s side. Seokmin takes this time to look around the small, confined classroom. It is in no means shabby, but one could tell this building isn’t meant to be a school, Seokmin thinks Jeonghan told him that it had been some sort of distillery prior to the deed falling into his hands.

From ten in the morning, when the sun slants in through the two glass windows of the classroom just enough to see the dust flying through the air, until noon is when Jeonghan teaches the native Korean speakers basic Japanese grammar and vocabulary. It’s only a handful of students; Mingyu, whom Seokmin had met on his first day, Seungkwan, who is somewhat timid but roaringly confident at times, Chan, a kid on some sort of exchange trip who hopes to build up his language skills before his university classes start in the fall, and of course, Seokmin himself. It is an intimate learning experience, perhaps that’s why Seokmin now feels miles more confident in his speaking ability now than he did a month prior. Hell, he could now converse freely, albeit somewhat confined in his topics, to the front desk woman at the hotel he still resides at.

There’s a knock at the classroom door, pulling the attention from the room’s occupants away from their work and now to the dark wooden door that leads out into the small foyer where the next group of students is presumably waiting for their lecture. “The next class doesn’t start until noon,” Jeonghan looks at the clock placed atop his desk, “You’ve got five minutes.”

The door opens with a small creaking noise, shadows from the entranceway spilling in as Seokmin catches a familiar face standing there to greet the class. “I was actually hoping to sit in?” A voice Seokmin hadn’t heard since his university days accompanied the squeak of floorboards underfoot as Jisoo strides into the room. “I think my Japanese is a little rusty.”

A small laugh from Jeonghan as he recognizes his friend, “There’s the jailrat.” Jeonghan returns to the front of the room to stand in front of the taller, no doubt feeling the confused gazes of the students behind him staring past him and to the stranger. “I’m surprised they let you out that early.”

“You know I’m persuasive,” Smile lingering on his lips as his head turns and he catches sight of Seokmin looking at him quizzically. He is still caught up on the word jailrat and the connotation behind it, when had Jisoo been incarcerated?  

“Well,” Jeonghan turns on his heels to address the class, “Why don’t we end early today?”

Mingyu’s already leaned over his desk to get Chan’s attention, Seokmin thinks he hears him say something about grabbing lunch at the nearby market, but his interest is far too deterred to be paying full attention to the younger men. The class packs their bags, Seokmin taking the longest time of all as he tucks away his books into his makeshift bag. In all earnest it was a bag he’d borrowed from the reception at the hotel, he’d neglected to bring or buy a suitable bag for school when he left home and arrived in Japan. The worn canvas of the thing is almost wearing through at the bottom, he slings it over his shoulder and makes his way towards Jisoo and Jeonghan, who look to be in deep conversation.

Jisoo spots Seokmin approaching in his periphery, turning to greet him with a jovial smile. “I see you made it here in one piece?” His eyes looked tired, his face gaunter than the last time he’d seen his elder, but he wasn’t going to question, it was neither the time nor the place.

“Mostly,” Seokmin replies, “Jeonghan’s been a great teacher.”

“Thanks for the ego boost,” Jeonghan’s fingers dance on the lapels of his jacket in mock vanity, only then moving into his jacket pocket for a lighter and his infamous pack of Chūyū cigarettes. He offers one to Jisoo and then to Seokmin, to which they accept, pulling their own lighters out of their pockets and lighting the butts of the sticks.

“God, these are shit,” a grit through Jisoo’s teeth after he pulls in a drag. “They confiscated my Lucky Strike back in Tokyo.” Seokmin’s brow furrows as the other begins to speak again, “Let me know when you’ve got a free night. I’d love to grab dinner and catch up; it’s been a while.”

“I should have time this Saturday?” Seokmin thinks of his schedule, it’s not that he had massive time commitments here, but he was making a point to travel around the city in his free time. “If that works for you, of course.”

“It sounds doable,” A nod as Jisoo moves his hand to tap his cigarette against an ashtray atop Jeonghan’s desk, the wood around the tray stained with the ashes of past smoking ventures. “Are you still staying at that hotel I told you about?”

Seokmin shifts on his feet, “I am, are you staying there too?”

“Jeonghan has offered me residence in his home until he is sick of me,” Jisoo nods to the aforementioned, “I can meet you in the lobby around five then?”

“Sounds good,” Seokmin agrees, looking at the clock hanging on the wall, “I think Seungkwan wanted to go over the homework together so I should go and help him out.” It’s something of an excuse but Seokmin could feel as if there was some sort of pregnant secret looming over the heads of the other two.

“Would you mind sending Junhui and the others in?” Jeonghan asks as Seokmin snubs out his cigarette in the ashtray and makes his way to the door.

Metal knob in hand, Seokmin turns and gives him a brief nod, “Of course.”

There’s something that doesn't sit right with Seokmin. Jisoo had noted that he’d planned on staying in Seoul for a while in the letter he’d sent to Seokmin a few weeks ago. It’s not as if plans can’t change or anything of the sort, yet he’d seemed vehement about it, detailing something about a someone he was going to visit before heading home to America. He isn’t one to question where questions aren’t due. If his friend was to stay in Kyoto for the time being, he’d be nothing more than appreciative of having a familiar face around.

[ 1909.05.18. 今出川ホテル、京都 ] When Seokmin ascends the staircase, hands tucked in his jacket pockets, he can immediately tell that Jisoo sits in one of the large armchairs by the hotel’s unused fireplace in the lobby. Although his face is obscured by the wings, with the way his hand taps in rhythm with the song wafting through the air, the excitedness of the movements are a telling sign that it is his friend. 

A glance to the victrola that lies in the corner of the room, the audio scratchy and soft as it emits a tune that Seokmin does not know. He strides over to the plush chair, glancing down to its occupant before speaking. 

“Good afternoon,” the words escape him and Jisoo turns to him with a jump and widened eyes before he realizes who it is. 

“Dokyeom!” Jisoo smiles from the armchair, rising to his feet to greet the other with a quick embrace, “Long time no see.”

“I’d prefer if you called me my real name,” he nods awkwardly as Jisoo steps back from him, his hand rising to scratch the back of his head, “helps me forget the meaning of that epithet.”

“Still having family issues?” Jisoo’s brow furrows as they break their embrace, “I thought you wrote that you had sorted that mess out?”

“More or less,” another awkward smile, “But enough about me— I thought you were supposed to be in Seoul?”

“Change of plans, there was someone I was meant to meet in Tokyo, but they left during the time I was imprisoned.”

“Jeonghan mentioned something like that when you first came in, what happened?” Jisoo holds out his hand, motioning to the door, as Seokmin questions. The latter begins to walk forward, towards the entrance of the hotel as his friend trails behind him, “Were you really taken into custody?”

“They thought I had ties with Homer Hulbert,” A laugh as the two make their way out the front door, trapezing down the steps and onto the sidewalk, “Which is correct, but they had no grounds to imprison me on the notion that I know him alone or had one of his books in my possession.”

“Hulbert— is he the one that—?” 

“The very same,” Jisoo waves the notion off, “But that is more than contrived at this point, let me know how you are. It sounds like things are the same with your family the last time I saw you.”

“If things were okay then I would have stayed home,” a huff of heated breath leaving him in something of a passive laugh. “My father is still trying to set me up with that girl, the past runs deep, I suppose.”

“I cannot agree with you more,” Jisoo agrees with a nod, “Have you even met her yet?”

“The last time I saw Seungwon was when I was thirteen, even if I saw her now, I cannot say I could point her out in a crowd if you asked me to.” Seokmin's hands find purchase in his pocket, hidden away from the sunlight that falls onto his head and burns the back of his neck as Jisoo and he walk further down the street, through the masses of people.

The older one nods solemnly, almost as if he understands the situation, "I have a friend who's in a similar predicament as you. Although her parents haven't found her a match or approved of anyone she's liked, I'd say her feelings mirror your own."

"Is that right?" Seokmin questions rhetorically as Jisoo digs through his jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes, "Is that the girl who you spoke so much about during our classes together?"

Jisoo sputters, his hands failing to ignite his cigarette at Seokmin's words, the object dangling from his lips, "Did I really talk about her that much?"

"So much so I feel like I know her," Seokmin smiles and shakes his head, a familiar pang hitting his stomach once he looks back to the street before them. "Do you want to grab something to eat? I don't think I've eaten since lunchtime yesterday."

"Too busy studying?"

"Something like that..." In actuality, he'd received yet another telegram, this time from his mother, scolding him for staying away again.

"You always were more studious than me," the other nods and looks to a small restaurant they begin to pass on their left before stopping in his tracks, "What about this place?"

"Soba?" The intensity of the sun once again baring down above him as he looks at the sign on the door, he nods quickly, "Sounds great."

 The pair make their way inside, settling down at a small table in the back corner of the shop as they wait for their food to arrive. Seokmin moves his hand to unbutton a few fastens from the front of his jacket to allow some of the shop's cooler air to hit him. His hands then move to rest atop the table, his long and slender fingers tapping as Jisoo smokes the last of his cigarette, snubbing it out on the ashtray settled at the end of the table. 

"How's your family doing? Is your father's business going well? I saw a few copies when I was in Seoul.” Lackadaisical in question, Seokmin can hear something edging behind his friend’s tone that tinges upon suspicion. 

“It’s going well,” a silent nod as a server comes to their table, the two order quickly, leaving little room for questions before Seokmin asks, “What about your family?”

“Willfully ignorant as ever,” Jisoo frowns, shifting in his seat. It looks as if bitter words reside on his tongue but he swallows them down with a redemption of a smile. 

“About what?” Seokmin pauses as he reaches for the pot of tea the server had brought on her arrival, his hand hovering over the handle. 

“Everything.” Jisoo’s shoulders shrug as Seokmin eventually pours himself and his friend a cup of tea. “Joseon politics, American politics, hell- even the politics of their own inner circle. I refuse to believe they aren’t intelligent; they refuse to accept anything that isn’t affecting them personally.” 

“I see…” He winds off his acknowledgement with the abating of his words, woefully aware that his parents are of the same mindset. His own father being the worst of all of them, claiming that any interaction or deals with unsavory businessmen were for the benefit of the family, not to the detriment. 

“My father’s own brother died in ‘07 and he seemed unfazed by it at all,” Jisoo huffs out, “At the hands of the Imperial Army, and yet he said nothing.” 

Seokmin’s eyes widen, and he raises a finger to his lips as if to tell the older to lower his voice, unknowing if anyone within the shop understands Korean. “Even if he did, there would be nothing your father could have done about it. Not only is he in America, but he also holds no authority in Joseon.” 

“No one wanting to do a damn holds any authority in Joseon anymore, you know better than me what the yangban have gone through, what everyone’s gone through.” Jisoo leans in closer to Seokmin, ceding as he lowers his tone, “It may be easier said than done but I believe we have the ability to change that.” 

“How would-” Seokmin begins but is interrupted when the server comes back with their food, carefully setting each dish atop the table before retreating into the depths of the kitchen. “How could ‘we’ possibly do that?” 

“There are ways, I know there are. I just need time to think of a proper solution,” Jisoo nods as he reaches for his chopsticks, eager to sate his own hunger that had risen during their conversation. “If you’re interested, I’ll tell you more when I have an idea.”

[ 1909.05.27. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] Seokmin’s mind doesn't return to that conversation with Jisoo until a Wednesday afternoon about a week later. The sun begins to sink down in the sky as Jisoo, Mingyu and himself clean off some blackboard tablets in the main room of the school. Jeonghan is busy teaching a class down the hall as Seokmin’s fingers begin to prune from what feels like endless scrubbing with a rag and vinegar ridden water.

“You know,” Jisoo speaks up after an eternity of silence, brushing his hands on his pants after setting down a board onto the floor below. “I think we can really change something here.” His shoes quickly tap on the floor in a sort of anxious apprehension, “Jeonghan and I have been talking and the resistance effort in Joseon seems to be strengthening again.”

“What are you implying?” Seokmin asks, confused at the sudden statement. His brow wet with perspiration, even having the windows cracked open doesn't allow for much wind to travel throughout the building.

“I am saying that we can try and do something to change the… trouble happening back home,” Jisoo shows no anger but a passion resides in his voice that remains hard to mask. “Do something before something more is done to us.”

“That is…” Mingyu begins, looking up to Jisoo from his task of drying off the boards.

“Idealistic?” Seokmin interjects, biting his lower lip before continuing, “Jisoo you do realize if someone hears you talking about that you’ll get thrown in prison again?”

Eyes trailing around the space as if he hadn’t already known they were alone, “Every one of us are sitting ducks. You know that” a point to Mingyu and then a point to Seokmin, “and you know that. Is fighting back against that such a bad thing?”

“How do you propose we do that? Drop everything now, hop on a ship back to Joseon and just roam the countryside looking for this supposed group?” Blood rushes to his ears and it sounds like waves crashing on a beach’s shore. 

“Not at all,” A shake of his head. “There are ways of resisting that do not rely on fighting, think peaceful, diplomatic.”

A nervous laugh escapes Seokmin, it’s involuntary but he can’t help it. “Hong Jisoo, I knew you were insane, but this is another level.”

“I— uh— I’m going to get some chalk refills from the storage room,” Mingyu excuses himself from the conversation, a glance at him as he walks away tells Seokmin that he doesn’t know how to interact with the situation and was looking for an easy escape.

“Seokmin, if you would just listen to me and get that stupid doubt out of your head you might just be able to make some sense of it all.” A sigh from Jisoo as he stands, reaching into his jacket to rummage around for a pack of cigarettes. “Can I bum one off of you?”

Cheek bitten as he grabs his pack out of his pocket and tosses it to the other, “Do you have any idea what they would do to my family if they knew we were having this conversation? Your family and Mingyu’s are across the world and have no worries about what they say or do. The other student’s and mine are not privileged with that.” Cigarette carton tossed back, the sound of a lighter igniting and the smell of smoke pervading through the air as he tucks the pack away into his pocket.

Jisoo thinks, an exhalation of smoke through troubled lungs as his outward breath intermingles with the dust thick in the air. It dissipates without a sound, quietly invading the space as Seokmin is overcome with a sense of trepidation from the other, he picks his words meticulously, trying to string them together as carefully as possible, “This is not just about you or me or my family or yours. It is the fate of a nation on the line, is that so hard to understand?”

It causes the younger man to pause for a moment, his hand falling to his pocket, hovering there before he pulls on the fabric as if he’d meant to straighten the coat all along. His throat clears, thinking of his parents and brother he’d left behind in Suji, what any actions that Jisoo’s ideals cause may entail for them. Even if he was trying to get away from his obligations back home, he’d never want to intentionally put them in any sort of danger. 

Seokmin opens his mouth to speak before catching a bright glimpse of color passing by one of the front windows, followed by the school door opening with a large slam against the wall. Silhouette standing in the setting sun for a moment, not looking at all familiar to Seokmin. An equally confusing circumstance when the words, “Joshua Hong,” spill from your lips.  It’s a confused expression that crosses your face, standing in the front door of the school as the one named leans leisurely back against one of the walls. 

Cigarette in hand, Jisoo turns at the call of his name, nearly falling over in surprise to see you standing there. No, not surprise- bewilderment, shock or some form of abject horror as you take a few long strides to stand in front of him. It’s as if a child’s been caught by his mother and Seokmin is playing witness to it all.

Seokmin watches the scene in a state likened to childlike curiosity, he understands not one word that falls from either of your or Jisoo’s lips, but he can tell you’re angry and him beyond apologetic. Hand movements gesticulating, he catches the words ‘Seoul’ and ‘Tokyo’ at some point as you huff something out under your breath. Voices rising, Seokmin’s surprised Jeonghan hasn’t come out to tell them to be quiet, but if he were in Jeonghan’s shoes he wouldn’t as you sound royally pissed. When you turn on your heels Seokmin looks to Jisoo for some sort of explanation, but his gaze is solely locked on you leaving.

“Shouldn’t you chase after her?” Mingyu asks, the two others not realizing he had returned, box of chalk in hand as the three men watch you storm out into the crowded streets.

“She needs to calm down before I talk to her again or she might really kill me.” Jisoo sighs, bringing the cigarette to his lips before taking in a long drag. A hand runs through his hair as it looks as if all of the blood had drained from his face upon your arrival.

“Is that the friend you mentioned a while ago? You showed us a picture I think.” Seokmin questions, somewhat relieved at your intrusion into their previous conversation.

“It is,” the answer not coming from Jisoo, but from Mingyu. “And by the sound of it she’s ready to pack you into her suitcase and take you on the next ship home.” Head nodding as he looks to the space you once occupied, “You really didn’t tell her you were coming here?”

“You understood that?” Smoke leaving him he turns to the younger, “You didn’t tell me you speak English.”

“It never really came up.” Shoulders shrugging as he sets the box of chalk he’d been fiddling with down onto a nearby chair. “I was raised in Canada for the first eleven years of my life.”

“Son of a bitch, Jeonghan never mentioned that.” Jisoo muses, tossing the cigarette from his hand and smothering it with his shoe. “But yeah, that’s her. I may have neglected to mention that but I was a little held up,” he looks confused as he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way to the door, peering out in the street. “I just don’t know how in the hell she found me.”

“She probably used the wrath of God to do it,” Mingyu suggests, “That’s how my mom says she knows everything I’ve ever done wrong.”

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” A shake of his head as Jisoo turns to Seokmin. “She said she’s staying at the hotel you’re in. Would you mind meeting up with me tomorrow morning in the lobby to talk some sense into her and get her to go back home?”

“I don’t even know her though?” Hands dried on a nearby towel, Seokmin stands and reaches for the bucket of now dirty water. He walks past Jisoo and into the street to dump its contents out, “I don’t even speak that much English.” 

“It’s more of moral support than anything,” Jisoo steps aside to let Seokmin back in, “I wasn’t joking she might actually kill me if she gets the chance.”

“Fine,” Seokmin sighs, walking to pick up his bag from the corner of the room. His hands smell of vinegar and he rubs his still pruned fingertips together as he thinks of what the next morning would hold. “You owe me, though.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jisoo breathes a sigh of relief as Seokmin makes his way to the front door once again, this time with the intent of leaving. “Nine work for you?”

“Nine works for me.” A nod as he walks down the two steps and onto the dirt road below, the indentations from your shoes leading off down the almost empty road. He glances back to Jisoo with a, “See you tomorrow,” and then to Mingyu with a question of “Do we have a quiz on Friday?” before waving it off and beginning his trek back home.

The night descends on Kyoto quietly and without noise, the stores closing long after the sun has fallen behind the western mountains in Arashiyama, lanterns aligning the street as Seokmin shuffles his way to the hotel. It’s quiet, the city typically is at this time of night, he’s learned over the course of his stay in the ancient former capital.

Before he goes inside, he stands outside of the entrance, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he stares up at the night sky blooming with stars. His bag lays at his feet, more worn now than it had been on the first day of class. Crumpled in his fists, buried away into the depths of his coat lies a letter, the ink that had adorned it far too smudged and water damaged to read now. Seokmin hadn’t meant to ‘accidentally’ drop it into a puddle when it had arrived that morning, so the contents lie unknown. However, on the corner of the envelope, a blurred name, ‘Seungwon’ stays virtually untouched as if to remind him of former obligations. 

It’s as if there’s a clock ticking in his chest, counting down to a day, a time, when he’s meant to take up the holstered responsibility of his family and place it onto his own shoulders. A burden not yet ready to bear, he sighs out into the calm night and makes his way inside of the hotel. 

[ 1909.05.28. 今出川、京都 ] Seokmin wakes to the knocking on his door, his head burrowing into the tangled blankets and pillows from a restless night’s sleep. It takes a moment for him to find himself, writhing around the sheets before pulling himself out of his own stupor. Feet hitting the floor with a dull thud, he drags his lethargic body to the small bathroom, running his hands under the cool water of the faucet before splashing some onto his face to wake himself further. He meets his own gaze in the reflection, tired eyes and the slightest shadow of stubble beginning to darken on his jaw and upper lip. He’d have to visit the barber at some point in the coming days before he becomes totally unkempt.

He dresses himself in casual attire, a white linen button up, the most breathable thing he’d wear today, before he dons the dark blue of his three-piece suit, a light gray and black one still residing in his wardrobe. He notices the threading is nearly worn as he buttons the bottom half of his jacket, the things threatening to fall off should he exert too much force. The soles of his shoes too lie in disarray, wearing thin from endless wandering the streets of Kyoto after his classes have finished. It’s not that he’s searching for anything in particular, maybe a solution to his current situation. But he can’t find that at a merchant’s stall.

The route to the dining hall located on the first floor is a path easily tread, remembered in his first few days of arriving in Kyoto. The carpeted floors give way to a wooden expanse the further he delves into the hotel, the scents of varying breakfast foods calling out to his aching stomach. 

His hands keep busy with the morning paper, perhaps yesterday’s or the day prior to that one. It takes a while for the Korean post to arrive in Kyoto, the postage system seems to take years for important things to arrive, yet the letters from home seem to be weekly. A sigh as he sets down the news, reaching out for the carafe of coffee situated some ways away from where he’s seated. He begins to pour himself a cup, only pausing when he catches something out the corner of his eye. 

A few darkened drips from the coffee pot settle into the white linen of the dining room tablecloth as he spots you stalking towards him. His eyes go wide and his breath hitches when your gaze narrows on him, almost causing him to choke on coffee he’d just brought to his lips.

The way you saunter over to his table reminds him of his mother when she’d be out to scold either him or his brother. Seokmin doesn’t know you but can easily tell that you’re not a force to be reckoned with. 

“Where’s Josh?” You ask, standing before him, arms crossing over your chest as you look down at him expectantly. “You were one of the men with him yesterday, right?”

“What?” Seokmin asks, trying to make some sense of what you were saying. When he was a young boy, his parents had allowed him to take English lessons with a handful of the Christian missionaries that had drifted through Suji, but seeing as he understands nothing of what you just said, it’s obvious he hadn’t retained much, if any, of his vocabulary. “What are you looking for?” He sees no glimmer of understanding in your eyes as your brow furrows, probably trying to decipher what he’d just said. “Jisoo? Are you looking for Jisoo?” It’s the common connection the two of you seem to have, it’s his best bet on trying to figure out what you want. 

You nod at the name, recalling that his mother shouts that at him whenever she’s angry. “Where is he?” If you’d taken up Josh on any of his invitational Korean lessons, you may have had much better luck in this situation. But you’d gone off to learn French because you were enamored with one of your classmates at the time, you could almost hit yourself seeing where it’s gotten you. 

“Whe-” Seokmin pauses, lips pursing together as he thinks of the word. Jisoo was meant to be in the lobby when she came downstairs, but it’s now clear he’s nowhere to be found. 

 “School.” It’s one of the words he can pull from memory. “He’s probably at the school,” he says again and gestures in the general direction of Jeonghan’s academy. 

“The school- The language school?” You’ve said the name of the institute hundreds of times to yourself that you think it’s the only Japanese you know. Not that you fully understand what it means, just knowing that it’s the name of the place. 

Seokmin nods, somewhat surprised that you know the name. 

“Can you take me?” The question falls out quickly and you see he’s confused, so you repeat it again slowly in hopes that he comprehends it. It seems that he does, reaching for his coffee and finishing the cup before rising to his feet, motioning for you to follow him as he heads towards the exit.

The walk to the school is painfully awkward, drenched in a silence that neither of you want to address. Both of you are not confident enough in the other’s mother tongue to make small talk as the two of you begin to walk the streets. 

“Hey!” Seokmin hears Mingyu call out as the schoolhouse nears, “Took you long enough, you’re almost late.” When the younger sees that you’re accompanying him he gives you a small wave, “You’re Jisoo’s friend, right?” 

“I am,” You say after a moment, not having expected to hear English today. But with the company that Josh keeps, you can’t be too surprised at anything now. “Do you know where he is?”

“No, he’s not here yet,” he shakes his head and turns to Seokmin, “Didn’t Jisoo say that you’d meet him at the hotel?”

“He did,” Seokmin’s lips curve into a frown as the three of you make your way into the school. “She’s been interrogating me about him, I think. Although I can barely understand what she’s saying.”

Mingyu laughs at the older and then turns back to you, “My name’s Mingyu.” His demeanor has a lightness to it that descends onto you as something of a godsend. It’s an ease that you’d probably find with Josh if he were here, and you aren't still angry at him. 

“It’s nice to meet you Mingyu,” you offer him a smile before your eyes go wide and you turn to your partner, “I uhm, I never asked him what his name is.”

“Seokmin,” Mingyu answers, another chortle leaving him, and the elder looks confused as to why his name’s just been called out. “What’s your name?”

You respond quickly, glancing over your shoulder to see if Josh is on his way in, to your misfortune, he isn’t. Mingyu quickly introduces you to Seokmin, probably so he has a gist of who you are. It’s hard to tell if Josh’s said anything about you to these men, but it doesn’t look as if he’s said too much.

“We’ve got class soon,” Mingyu’s voice pulls you from your search and you turn back to him, “I’m sure Jeonghan would let you sit in on the class if you wanted to, although I’m not too sure that you’ll understand much, I don’t even get all of it.”

“It’s alright,” you shake your head at him, “I’ll just wait out here for Joh- Jisoo.”

The man in question strolls into the school around thirty minutes later, the local paper tucked under his arm as his brow raises in surprise to see you, “I thought I said I’d meet you at the hotel.”

“I got impatient,” a frown as your gaze flickers over to him. “Jail Josh? Jail?” You fume, storming over to the taller, “Do you have any idea how worried I was, how worried your mother was? God- If you don’t write to her today and tell her that you’re okay, I'm stuffing you in my suitcase and taking you back with me.”

He laughs heartily, despite you glaring him down, “I wrote to her as soon as I got out. I wrote to you too, but it doesn’t seem like you got the message.” A few more chuckles escape him as he holds his arms out, “I missed you.”

You sigh, falling into his embrace, “I missed you too.” After a moment you pull away, stepping back from him, “I’m glad to see that you’re okay, but if you ever do something like this again-”

“I’ve missed your hollow threats,” Josh smiles and glances around the school’s empty halls, “Do you want to get out of here for a while? I know a good cafe nearby, they have a lovely castella.” 

“Don’t you have class?” You question with a tilt of your head, the gentle murmurs from the classroom some ways away drifting out into the hall. “Mingyu said that Seokmin was already late, I wouldn’t want to stop you from your lesson.”

“I’m not a student,” Josh shakes his head, “I’m just… in town for a while and Jeonghan’s putting up with me for a bit.” He flashes you a grin before you have a chance to ask him exactly what he means by that, “Now come on before they run out.”

The two of you walk out into the dense heat of late spring, passing by a group of students as you do so. Josh recognizes some of them whereas you don’t, him saying something to them that elicits a laugh or two before you’re both back on your way to the city center. 

“Why were you arrested?” You can’t stop yourself from asking the question as you turn onto the main road from the alley in which the school is situated. There are only a handful of people perusing the streets, but none look interested in what you’d just said. “It wasn’t serious, right?”

“Of course not,” he reassures you and looks to a few buildings ahead, “We’re almost there.” Josh walks in silence for a moment, his fingers rubbing against his palm as he looks back to you, “I lost my passport, can you believe it?” You recall when you were leaving San Francisco and you had lost your own passport, if it hadn’t been for the man that found it for you, you’re not sure where you’d be.

“Well, actually, I didn’t lose it, it fell between the pages of one of the books that I bought, which reminds me- I have a few for you, I wrote you about them, just remember to tell me to give them to you,” Josh says quickly as you approach the building he’d been eyeing earlier, walking into the opened door confidently and heading to the nearest open table. 

You can tell he’s lying. You’ve only known him since you were children and he’s the closest person to you, you know almost every little quirk about him. And one of the first things you’d learned was that he talks quickly when he’s not being truthful. Yet, you don’t question him on it, seeing as you’d just calmed the tension between you, you don’t want to ignite it for the second time today. So, you just nod and follow him inside.

More oft than not, you hide your feelings behind a veneer of snark, of a bite that seems to sting but never lasts. It’s a sham way to hold yourself together, for if you let the dread of reality seep into your veins any longer than you allow it, you may just become the person you’re trying to hide. A vulnerable being who longs for the company of others but finds errant ways to keep them close instead of just outright saying it. 

Josh offers out a seat to you and you sit, hands folding neatly atop the tabletop as you look to the menu scrawled onto a chalkboard near the cafe’s counter. You’re not sure why you do, the mix of Japanese alphabets is still foreign to you.

“I’ll go grab something, just wait here,” he says, noticing your confusion, still standing before he turns on his heels and strides over to the counter. You turn away before he begins to speak to the barista, looking out of the glass window at the front of the shop, 

“How long were you planning on staying in Japan?” Josh’s voice stirs you some time later, the gentle sound of two cups being placed on the table making you turn in his direction as he sits down across from you. 

“As long as it took me to find you.” You smile at him, reaching out for the small cup, “I guess that means I can pack my bags and leave now.” The smile placated on your lips is joking, but you hold a sincerity in your gaze as if to ask him if that’s what you should do next. He was the entire reason you were here, to find him, to make sure that he was okay and to bring him home if you could. 

Josh’s finger traces the rim of his own coffee cup, gently lifting after a moment to tap along the surface of the tabletop. He hums, low and obstinate, as if to ponder the significance of you being here. 

“I guess you could,” a slow nod of his head, “You know, you were never obligated to chase me half-way across the world to try and get me back home. I’ve been detained before-”

“You have?” eyes widening as you look from your coffee to meet his eyes, “You’ve never mentioned that.”

“I’ve been detained before but,” he continues, gaze hardening at you as you interrupt him, “I really thought I had lost my papers so I sent my mom a letter saying I may need my official documents back home to get me out of the mess I found myself in. This was a little more serious than the others.”

“What happened the other times?”

“Well, in London they stopped me for taking too much tea out of the country, I guess they thought I’d run them dry of it,” a teasing smile twinges on the corners of his lips, “and in Cairo, I tried to sneak off with a few things from Cleopatra’s tomb.”

“You know,” you lean back in your chair, a snide frown on your lips, “lying less might help you out in the future.”

Josh laughs, reaching into his jacket pocket to procure his pack of smokes, it isn’t until he’s got a lit cigarette dangling from his lips that he speaks again, “Where’s the fun in that?”

He suddenly gasps, the smoke he’d been inhaling filtering into his lungs and causing him to sputter for a moment. You reach for and hand him his cup of coffee  so he doesn’t choke on himself. After a moment of hitting his chest and extinguishing his cigarette into the ashtray on the corner of the table, he speaks up, “You didn’t use your grandmother’s money to get you here, did you?”

“Well, technically it isn’t hers anymore,” a guilty exhalation of a chuckle, “but yes, I did.”

“Oh,” He’s crestfallen in the most faux of ways, “You said you’d take me to Italy with that.” It’s a joke, but you can see his concern wavering behind the sincerity of his words. 

Your hand falls to run over the textured brocades of your dress, a wavering smile delicately tugging at the corners of your lips, “I was just worried about you.”

“And I appreciate that, I really do,” brow softening as he reaches for his coffee, voice still a bit hoarse from his earlier choking. “But you don’t need to throw everything you have away for me, I know the trip probably wasn’t cheap.” 

Josh’s not wrong. It had taken quite a large portion from your deceased grandmother’s account to get you here, and the subsequent stay in the country. 

“I had to make sure you were okay,” you shrug your shoulders with a coy smile, reaching out to pick up your teacup and bring it to your lips. It’s then you realize something, setting the cup back down and looking around the shop, eyes wide.

“What is it?” Josh questions, noticing your shift in demeanor. 

“I haven’t ever been abroad before, I thought maybe I’d travel to Paris or London, Milan, even… Never…” A small hum as you turn to look back at him, “Never to Kyoto.”

“I’d have loved for you to see Seoul,” Josh smiles softly, his fingers tapping along the sides of the cup, “It’s beautiful this time of year.”

“You make it sound as if it’s impossible to go,” a tilt of your head. Josh had told you stories from his time studying abroad, of the antics he and his friends would get up to and of the history he’d learned. 

“It would be a little difficult to go back right now,” the smile lingering on his lips looks sad now, almost wistful in a way, “I’m sure we could go in the future if you want to.”  

“I’d love to,” you nod, glancing out of the window once more to watch the passersby walk up and down the crowded street. 

[ 1909.05.30. 今出川、京都 ] Japanese is difficult. You expected it to be, and you never expected yourself to have an aptitude for language seeing as how your conversational French lessons had left you with a minor understanding of the language itself. Most Korean words that Josh had tried to teach you over the course of your friendship had evicted your mind as well, so when Jeonghan asks if you want to sit in on the Korean student’s class as they learn Japanese, you’re not sure why you accept. 

You stay in that class for a few days, struggling to get along as you furiously scribble away into your notebooks. Jeonghan has offered you an English to Japanese dictionary and you copy and try to memorize the words as best you can, albeit the characters you draw are choppy and cause your instructor to spend a few more minutes with you trying to aid you in your quest to master hiragana. 

“Do you think we should have an English only class?” Jeonghan questions you one day after the class has ended, a few minutes remain before his next, so he pulls you aside as the rest of the students filter from the room. “Jisoo failed to tell me that he never taught you any Korean and I can see you struggling more than you have to.”

“If I’m going to be the only student, I cannot see the point,” you smile and shake your head at him, “Doing so would only amplify your workload.” 

“Never mind that,” a wave of his hand, “I can scrounge up a few of the boys who I know are a bit more… multilingual and have them sit in. Actually,” he thinks for a moment, his eyes tracing the cracks in the ceiling before settling on you, “I think it would be rather beneficial for them… So, what do you say?”

You ponder on the thought for a moment, not wanting to seem selfish enough to steal away a few of the men from the other classes for your own personal gain.  

“If they’re okay with it…” Nodding slowly, “Then I don’t see why it should be a problem.”

“Great,” a toothy grin from the teacher, “I’ll see what I can do.”

[ 1909.06.05. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] Kim Mingyu is sitting in the back of the schoolhouse’s main classroom, his nose buried inside Jeonghan’s mandated textbook, when you approach him. 

“I’m sorry to have pulled you from the other class,” you sigh out, taking a seat at the desk in front of him, yet turning in the chair to face him, “You must think me horrible for it.” 

“On the contrary,” Mingyu says after a moment before he sets the book in hand atop the table, a glance downwards shows that he had been hiding a small paperback book behind his study materials. He must’ve been reading that while looking so studious. “Ever since I switched classes I think I’ve actually learned more now that Chan’s not whispering in my ear or Seungkwan isn’t cracking a joke.”

“That’s a relief,” you smile, pausing for a moment as you take a deep breath, “I have a favor to ask of you, if it isn’t too… much.”

“A favor?” Piqued eyebrow as he looks quizzically at you, “Can I inquire what it is you’re asking of me?”

“You know Korean, right?”

“Well, uhm,” the question causes him to falter, “I should think so?”

“Teach me.” Hands finding themselves latched onto the back of the chair you sit in, you lean towards him, voice whispering as if you’re embarrassed, “I never bothered taking Josh up on it and now he’s too busy to help me study. And all I’ve been learning is Japanese except for when the others teach me a word or two.”

“You might want to forget those… most of them were pretty,” his face pinkening as he shifts in his seat, “inappropriate.”

“Oh really?” You feel your own cheeks warm with embarrassment, “I suppose I should’ve realized—”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell them to stop.” Mingyu says quickly to save you from any further mortification, “Are you free this weekend?”

“Are you asking me out?” Knowing the question will fluster the other, as it does, you stifle a laugh. “I am, should we meet here to study?” 

“If that works for you?”

“I’ll see you on Saturday.”

[ 1909.06.12. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] “Have you given any more thought to what I asked?” Jisoo stands in the doorway of Jeonghan’s main classroom, Seokmin scribbling away at something, too concerned with what he’s writing to notice that his door had opened.

With a small jump, he turns in his desk chair to his friend, “About?”

“Trying to organize something here.” With a cautious motion, Jisoo steps into the room. “I’ve been mailing the consulate in Tokyo but haven’t gotten a concrete meeting date set, I’m sure someone of your influence— of your family’s influence could—”

“Jisoo…” A frown settling onto Seokmin’s lips as he tucks the paper he’d been writing into the desk, away from the other’s prying gaze. “My family’s newspaper is scrutinized enough and it’s already considered pro-Japanese, what’ll my family do if they find out their son is working against the very thing keeping them afloat?”

“Where is your sense of justice?” Jisoo returns the grizzled grimace, “Didn’t you flee here to escape that reality for a while?”

“That is— It isn’t just that.”

“I am not trying to force your hand. I know that you’re smart and I know deep down you disagree with everything that’s going on.” A pause, “We’re meeting in Gion on the ninth, in Hanami. You’re welcome to sit in and hear what everyone has to say and make your decision after that.”

“... Okay.”

“You’ll go?”

“I’ll go, but don’t expect me to sign my life away just like that.” A sigh and Jisoo wordlessly leaves the room. Seokmin waits a moment more and pulls out the note sheet he’d been working on, as well as the letter he’d written earlier. He scans the letter once more before he sighs, folding it and tucking it away into an envelope and then into his bag.

‘Jihoon,

Much has happened since I left Suji. I hope things at home are still stagnant. 

The friend I told you of before leaving (the one who acquainted me with Yoon Jeonghan) has arrived under the most peculiar circumstances. I thought him to be in Seoul, but he arrived in Kyoto mid-May unannounced. And the strangest thing is that not even a month later, his friend from America shows up to scold him profusely for a litany of issues. I found her first impression rather intimidating, but I now find it rather endearing the more I try and speak to her.

I suppose I should ask how my family is doing, yet with their barrage of letters I feel as if I never left. The plague of this marriage overwhelms me constantly, I am not the heir to the company, yet my father and mother find it imperative to make a match. 

Enough rambling from my end, I hope your store is receiving the customer base it deserves. Starting any business now is sure to be wrought with turbulence, but I know you can and will persevere.

Seokmin’

[ 1909.06.15. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] “Excuse me,” Heat sweeps through the schoolhouse this afternoon, saturating the air in a humid gale that seeks to suffocate the air from one's own lungs. Seokmin stands before you as you sit in the main lobby of the schoolhouse, the textbook Mingyu has given you in your grasp as you look at him. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask, lowering the book in hand to look up at Seokmin. 

The toe of his shoe scuffs on the wooden floorboards as he rummages around his coat pocket for a moment. His brow furrows, and then lightens before he now moves his hand to search around his bag until he finds his fingertips brushing along a folded piece of paper. 

“For you,” he says, pulling out the parchment and holding it out to you. 

“Me?” A ginger grasp on the paper as you take it into one of your hands, unfurling it to read the contents. “Is this… the alphabet?” Various characters, both Korean and English, litter the page before your eyes in a haphazard, yet somehow meticulous, manner. 

“To help you study,” Seokmin says with a nod, his English vocabulary not proficient enough yet to tell you that he’d seen you studying the language after your class and Mingyu had mentioned in passing you were trying to learn. In no way is he sufficient enough in English to teach you major words but the alphabet… maybe that would be more doable.

“Oh,” your eyes still scan the page, eyes widening in recognition at some of the letters that Mingyu had taught you, before you return to looking up at the man, “Thank you, Seokmin. This will really help a lot.”

His heart flutters at your words, and he can only nod and return your smile before awkwardly rushing past you and towards the class he’s already late for. 

“What was that about?” Seungkwan guffaws as he settles into his seat, “Trying to make friends?” The younger looks back through the doorway of the class to note that you still have the paper in hand, carefully looking over its contents.

“It’s not like he fancies her or anything,” Chan shakes his head, noting Seokmin’s almost coy expression. “Oh my God, you do, don’t you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Seokmin bites, looking up to the front of the room where Jeonghan’s about to begin his lesson. “She just seems… lonely.”

The lesson drags on quietly after Seokmin’s sunken into his seat, his fingers aching with the sheer amount of notes he’d taken over the course of the hour and a half. When Jeonghan has finished his lesson on preposition making, somehow managing to reprimand Seungkwan in the process, the teacher dismisses his students out into the hall. The handful of men shuffle out into the narrow space, bursting into the lobby like salmon fighting their way upstream.

“Mingyu?” Seokmin thinks he catches his eye as he presses through the throng of Chinese students heading to class.

“Yes?” He locks eyes with him, the two stopping in the hall as the crowd recedes and it is only the two of them remaining.

“You know English, right?” He asks his friend, stepping towards him as to not clog the entirety of the hall.

“Why does everyone keep asking—” Mingyu sounds almost exasperated at the thought, “Yes, I do.”

“Would you mind teaching me? Or at least helping me with mine?”

“I mean, I can try to,” his hand runs through his tousled black locks, “I’m learning that I’m not the best teacher though, so it may take some time for me to get the hang of it.”

“That is fine enough with me,” Seokmin nods with a small smile, “Thank you.”

“Of course…” Mingyu says as the other begins to walk off, “Actually, Seokmin?”

“Hm?” The elder turns on his heels to tilt his head at the other.

“Why do you want to learn English all of a sudden?”

“Oh…” Shaken by the question, a flush of pink over his cheeks as the main object of his want for learning lies only several meters away in the lobby, in other words: you. He shrugs, “I just thought it’d be a good language to get a leg up on.”

[ 1909.06.21. 鴨川、京都 ] “Arthur? Really?” Josh chides as he walks along the sidewalk, his hands busy holding several blankets as he speaks to the man. Behind him and Mingyu, you and Seokmin walk step in step, carrying assorted picnic gear of your own. You notice the way Mingyu’s shoulders shrug in the summer heat as Josh speaks again, “It’s not a bad name, but a little Doyleish,” he turns to glance back at you before looking ahead, “don’t you think?”

“I think it’s a perfectly fine name,” you shrug loftily, your hand raising to your brow to wipe away a few droplets of sweat.

“Defend him because he’s got an author’s name, I see—” Josh scoffs jokingly as he sees Jeonghan waving at the three of you as the river’s bank draws near. “I’m going to go and help him set up.”

“Forever the busybody,” you sigh, looking to the other two accompanying you, “Why did you come to Japan, Mingyu?”

“My dad’s company is thinking about extending its outreach here, he’s in Tokyo trying to negotiate something and I’m here just… Well, I’m really just here,” he laughs, something rattling in the basket he holds.

“Are you going to take over his business?” The inquiry falls from you quickly, not realizing that he comes from a presumably affluent family.

“When I get older, maybe,” he sighs out apathetically, “I want to be a novelist.”

“A novelist?” You perk up at the word, “Who do you like?”

“I really like London.”

“He’s great,” A nod as the three of you walk onward, “You know, if you have anything, I’d love to read it.”

“Really? You’d do that?” His eyes widen as he looks to you, stumbling over an uneven stone as he asks.

“Of course, Josh typically sends me novels from all over the world, but now that he’ll be here for a while I haven’t got anything.”

“I can give you a few pieces tomorrow at the schoolhouse.” A sheepish blush dusts his face, “I’ve started a manuscript but it’s still fairly rough.” 

“That’d be great.” You smile and look at the others in your party, but before you can ask, Mingyu speaks up.

“And what about you, Seokmin?”

“Me?” The elder looks confused, as if he hadn’t been paying attention to the prior conversation. His attention elsewhere along the river before being interrupted. 

“What are you doing once you go back home?”

“My father set up a position for me at his business,” A sour frown on his lips, “I think that’s where I’ll put myself.”

“There’s nothing else you want to do?”

“Of course, there is, but I’ve given up my frivolity for the working mindset,” another frown as he lies to himself. The only reason he’d fled to Tokyo is because of his frivolity and unwillingness to settle down so soon.

“I see…” Mingyu sighs, turning to you, “And what about you?” 

“I suppose I’ll get married, live unhappily with my husband until I’m old and gray, and maybe after he dies, I’ll be able to do what I want,” humming as you’ve already given too much thought about the topic considering there aren’t many options for you. “If I were to have it my way though, I’d die a spinster, a book reading, novel writing spinster.” 

“You write too?” Mingyu interjects.

“Not well,” a bashful smile spreads to your lips, “I’ll let you read some of my works once they’re written.” 

“What did she say?” Seokmin asks, noting your change in demeanor.

“She wants me to read over a few of her things,” Mingyu says, looking from him to you. And then as if a light sparks in his head, he snaps his fingers, “You know. If you’re trying to learn Korean and you’re trying to learn English, I think helping each other out would be better than me trying to teach you.”

“If someone wasn’t chasing after James McAllen or whatever his name was, maybe she’d be a bit more proficient.” Josh guffaws as he saddles back to the three of you, the blankets he’d once been holding now lain on the bank of the river.

“French is still a good language to know,” you murmur, then looking up to Mingyu, and then glancing at Seokmin, “Although, that doesn’t really seem like such a bad idea, does it?”

[ 1909.08.10. 今出川、京都 ] “Is something wrong?” Your question pulls at Seokmin. For the last few minutes, you’d noticed that he hadn’t been working on the letter practice that you’d given to him when the two of you began your joint lesson. Instead, he’d been absentmindedly looking off into space as his hand draws thoughtless circles onto the page before him.

“No,” Seokmin jumps in his seat across from you as his gaze returns from the void where he sought nothing. “I’m alright.”

“Okay,” you nod, returning to penning out the sentences that Seokmin had given you. It only takes a few more lines of script before you get tired, stifling your mouth with a yawn before you turn back to your partner. “What does your father do for a living?” 

“My father?” Seokmin asks, wondering what could’ve spurred this question, “He’s a founding member of the biggest news publication in Korea.”

“News publication?” 

“The Seoul Daily,” he responds, “Although I have to admit I don’t read it often.”

“I see…” You say, not wanting to bore him with the simpleness of your own father’s profession as a clerk. “You know, I find it surprising that Josh’s here. He never likes to sit still. I thought he would be teaching somewhere by now.”

“Is he a teacher?” Seokmin questions, looking up from his work.

“Teacher, tutor, whatever the term is… but yes. He said that’s what took him from Seoul to Tokyo in the first place. And what took him from home.”

“Is he really?” Seokmin cannot recall Jisoo ever professing that his job was that of a tenured teacher, his degree had been in something of business administration if he recalls correctly. 

“Did he not ever tell you?” A prickling of suspicion biting at your lips. During your luncheon with Josh some time ago, the same inkling of distrust in your friend’s word invaded you, you had brushed it off then, forgetting it until now. “He said he was staying at the American ambassador’s home.”

“The American legation shut down some time ago in Seoul,” Seokmin muses, catching the glimpse of shock in your eyes before he moves to speak again, “That isn’t to say that the ambassador has left… To be honest I’m not well versed in Joseon’s political affairs with western nations to know such things.”

“Really…” You hum, pursing your lips as you try to process it. Not wanting to lower the already stagnant atmosphere of the session, you look at the sleeve on Seokmin’s jacket, noticing something peculiar about it. “Seokmin?” 

“Yes?”

“Is that hole in your suit?” You point your finger to the bit where the button should be on the sleeve.

His finger moves to trace the outline of the threadbare hole where his button used to lie, “I suppose it is.”

“If you ever want me to mend that for you, I should be able to.” You offer, failing to mention that your handiwork would be subpar at best.

“I may just take you up on that offer,” he smiles, only then to look back down at his notes, “Now, should we get back to work?”

[ 1909.08.15. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] The light of the candle on your desk flickers ominously behind its pale shade as you reach for the wrapped parcel Mingyu had given you earlier in the day. You’d received it just as he, Josh, Seokmin and a few of the other students were leaving the school that afternoon. They hadn’t asked you to go with them, citing some sort of man’s meeting in which you could only presume a visit to one of the city’s geisha districts again. It was a favorite pastime of one of the men, saying it was much better to talk business in the confines of a private room where one language was known among them all. 

What they mean by that, you’re unsure. This is a school group, not a business venture, right?

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the thought as your fingers trace along the twine at the top of the large envelope. Unlacing it swiftly, you reach your hand inside to pull out a substantial amount of writing from Mingyu, some in his hand and some seemingly typed on a typewriter. The letters are strong, bold, and in the margins lie a mix of notes in both English and Korean. You try your best to decipher the latter but find it too scrawled to read, you’d practiced reading typed or printed Hangul rather than a messy author’s handwritten scrawl. 

Eyes flickering to the top page, you begin to read over his work,

‘The halls of the Haut have lain in wait for a mildly jolting occurrence for some time now. Ebbed in an inky and sickly black of gloom that settles itself on every person, beast and object that dare enter its halls. Yet for those that traverse its rooms, the darkness is felt more as a way of life than of a looming threat, some finding solace in the flickering lights of the candles that adorn the walls every handful of feet while others have succumbed to the habitual nature of torment that resigns itself to its home.

The spark of candles igniting save them from that horror, for a time. A thought of hope, a taste of the light that has been longed for for eons at this point, as the doors never open and the shutters remain bolted in place. Candles are the only light available to the residents of the Haut, whether that is a welcomed gesture or not. 

As the fires in the candles flicker endlessly throughout the day, I have come to a realization during my stay in the Haut. The light, shadowing across faces; new ones, ones they would see every day and faces they would never see again act as more than just a breath of hope to see the sun again. It acts as a catalyst, until their wick wanes low and it is to be tossed out like the ones before it, returning to an obscurity that prevails over all in the end.’

Mingyu’s thoughts penned down onto the page confuse you more when you read them over again. It is clearly alluding to more than a fictional Haut and the symbolism of candles is more than noticeable. You wonder why, of the fictional pieces that he’s told you of writing, he chose to place this one first. If there even was a reason, or if he had shuffled his papers together haphazardly before he left his apartment that morning. 

You look from the page to the window by your bedside, noting the sun had sunk some time ago, the small clock on your desk reading half-past eight. 

Almost as soon as your eyes settle on the clock, a knock resounds around your room. It causes you to jump and you quickly rush to the door to see if the men have returned. Upon opening the heavy door, you’re met face to face with Josh.

A bitter taste fills your mouth, but you hide it with a smile. The conversation that you had with Seokmin about your mutual friend had revealed a few things that you hadn’t known about your friend, and you’re still struggling to come to terms with the untruths he may have told you over the course of the years.

“I honestly expected you back later,” you say jokingly, noting the flush of red on his cheeks. He must’ve been drinking.

“Decided to call it a night early,” he shrugs. Josh stands there for a moment, as if he’s debating on whether to step into your room or not. It seems as if he opts not to, parting his lips to speak, “Listen… There’s something I want to talk to you about, you and I have known each other for a long, long time and I don’t think I’ve been very honest with my thoughts.”

“Your thoughts?” You give him a puzzled look; you had expected him to speak about something other than that.

“You see,” he starts, “I-”

“Oh,” a voice from outside of your room speaks up, both you and Josh look to see who it is. “If you’re in the middle of a conversation I’ll come back another time-”

“No, no,” Josh says quickly, motioning the other over, “We were only just chatting, Seokmin.”

“Hello Seokmin,” you give him a small smile as he returns the gesture. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I um, I wrote down a few poems for you to try and translate if that is of any interest to you.” The folded paper in Seokmin’s hand crinkles at the margins as he holds it toward you. You hadn’t seen it upon first glance. Through the thin parchment you can see his handwriting that has bled through a bit.

“Thank you,” you say, a small fluttering of butterflies in your chest as you take the paper into your grasp, “This was very kind of you to do.”

“It was no problem, really,” he waves his hand. “Well,” Seokmin says quickly, looking from you to Josh, although his expression shifts slightly when he looks to the elder, “I’ll leave you to your chat.” And with that, he quietly turns on his heels and walks down the hall, towards his room.

“That was cute,” Josh muses once Seokmin’s out of earshot, “Almost like a lovelorn schoolboy.”

“Don’t tease him,” you scoff, gently nudging your friend with your hand. “What was it that you wanted to talk about earlier?”

As if he’s remembered what brought him to your room in the first place, he quickly shakes his head, “Never mind it now, it’s a conversation for another day.”

[ 1909.08.19. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] The wicker wiring of the basket’s handle is rough and almost sharp in your grasp as you lug the thing down the long street in front of you. One of the ladies at the hotel’s reception had offered to help you but you’d kindly refused. Yet with the beads of sweat beginning to form at your hairline, you almost wish you had taken them up on your offer. 

As you burst your way into the lobby of the school, several heads turn in your direction. Seokmin and Seungkwan look up from their hushed conversation and Jeonghan looks perplexed as he looks at what’s in your grasp, but makes no comment on it, only asking, 

“What are you doing here so early?”

“Seokmin Lee,” a sly smile as you hoist the basket up, “Do you have the availability for me to steal you for the day?”

“I…” his eyes travel to those around him, their heads tilting in confusion as they probably think that this is you coming to reign hell upon him just as you’d done to Josh upon your arrival. 

“I think he does,” Mingyu pipes up, realizing through the tone of your voice that there isn’t any ill will to be found. “Go,” he nudges Seokmin, “skipping class for a day won’t hurt you, believe me.”

“Thanks, Mingyu,” you smile as Seokmin walks forward hesitantly. Turning to Seokmin you smile, “I hope you’ve worn walking shoes; we’ll be going on a small trek.” 

The two of you take a trolly south, and then another one even more south to the edge of the city’s limits. Seokmin had offered to take the basket from your grasp as he noticed you shifting your weight with it as you stood in the interior of the crowded car. 

“I thought I might treat you to lunch,” You say as the car comes to an abrupt stop, jostling the passengers before you disembark, him following closely behind you, “if that’s alright?”

“Well, if I’m already here—” Seokmin accepts without outright saying it. “Where are we going?”

“That’s a secret,” you smirk, continuing to walk down the street.

It takes a moment, but you soon recognize several poignant features of the landscape that the hotel’s reception had pointed out to you. The town dwindles away, opening into a swath of open greenery and hills that roll on, seemingly forever. A few homes dot the landscape, you assume them to be the living spaces of the families that farm the land.

A rocky, dirt path leads you and him through a thicket of brush before coming out into a large field, yellow flowers saturating the landscape.

Noticing the way that your gaze seems to linger on the flowers as the two of you approach, Seokmin asks, “Do you like sunflowers?” Fingers dancing up one of the large stems beside him once the two of you near the field enough, his digits flitting up towards the petals bursting towards the blue of the afternoon. 

“They remind me of home,” wistful thoughts as you turn towards him, attention turning from the blossom in your gaze. “My mother grows them in her garden.” You set the picnic basket on the ground, reaching to pick up a fallen flower before you look back to him.

Eyes locking together, his own breath catches in his throat as he realizes how close you are, how the sunlight cascades onto you in a serene beam, not unlike a spotlight from a stage production. A cough and he looks to your grasp, to the yellow petals and browned florets in the center. Seokmin doesn’t know this now, but he’ll come to associate you and these flowers together in a harboring memory locked in the library of his mind when some time comes to pass. 

“Every summer the flower peddlers would come into town with their bushels of blossoms,” the memory can be recalled almost as if it were happening right in front of him. “My mother loves blue bells, my father and my brother both like carnations.”

“And you?”

“Sunflowers,” a nod as his hand retracts from the stem of the plant and into his pocket.  “I like sunflowers.”

“You must be happy that we came here, then,” a smile flaring onto your lips, “I bet everyone else at the school is jealous I stole you away for a while.”

“Jisoo more than any of them,” head shaking in disagreement, “he dotes on you, you know.”

“Dotes and guards are two very different things, Seokmin,” the smile falters a bit as you think of your friend. He had been acting strange lately, almost as if he were a caged animal with no escape. Was it because you had followed him here? 

“As he is not here I see no reason to fuss over him,” you shake your head, dropping the flower to the ground gently and turn to the assortment of snacks you’d brought. You open the basket, settling yourself down onto the ground near the stalks, and motion Seokmin over.

You reach inside to procure two glasses laying empty before you as well as grabbing a dark green bottle from its depths. “I had the lovely ladies from the front desk put this together for us last night.” Another rummage through the basket has you revealing a wine opener, the screw end eventually finding itself plunged into the cork in the bottle’s neck. 

“Thank you,” you say once you’ve poured Seokmin and yourself a generous glass of wine each. While you’d fiddled with the cork, Seokmin set out to lay out the small bites you’d brought along.

“For what?” A piqued eyebrow as he reaches for his glass, slight confusion shadowing his face. 

“Talking to me. I know Josh and Mingyu do as well, but I feel like everyone else ignores me.” 

Never mind the reason being that they’d heard of how you’d tracked Josh down and were worried that should they get on your bad side they’d suffer a similar fate— Seokmin found their fear rather funny but would make a note to try and tell them to open up, it isn’t as if you’re a monster. 

“Even if things are lost in translation— it’s nice.” Glass raised to your lips, giving the deep red a small sip before setting it back down. 

“I’ll tell them to talk to you more, and that you’re not that mean,” he chuckles and takes a drink from his own glass, the spirit flowing rather smoothly down his throat. It doesn’t stop him from making a face, though. 

“Are you implying that I can be?” A joking question as you peer over to him.

“Jisoo’s told me a select few stories,” Seokmin smiles, “but don’t worry, I’ll keep them private.”

“Promise?” You laugh out, only imagining what your friend had uttered. For a moment you catch Seokmin looking at you, a softness in his gaze and the smile on his lips seeming nothing less than genuine. It makes you pause for a moment as he opens his mouth to speak. 

“Promise.”

The two of you sit and talk in the midafternoon light until the sun slowly starts to sink beyond the horizon. Not wanting to be caught in the countryside at dark with no source of light, you and Seokmin make your way back to the southern edge of Kyoto. Another trolly ride and a brisk walk, the two of you find yourself back inside of your shared hotel.

“Mr. Lee?” The receptionist calls out just before the two of you pass the desk. By now far too familiar with the myriad of Jeonghan’s students who filter within the walls of the hotel, many of the staff seem comfortable enough to call out to them whenever a parcel, letter, or telegram arrives. “A letter arrived for you this afternoon.”

“If it’s from Suji I want nothing of it until tomorrow morning,” Seokmin sighs before waving off the offer of the envelope.

“It’s from a Mr. Lee Jihoon,” she reads over the address, “It seems to be from Seoul?”

“Ah,” you note a glimmer in Seokmin’s eyes and a slight smile overcoming him as he retracts his steps and moves to quickly take the letter with a ‘Thank you’ before heading up the staircase, you following closely behind.

“Who’s Lee Jihoon?” You ask as he ascends the steps, the sound of the envelope being torn open quickly ripping through the air.

“A friend,” Seokmin muses as he reads his friend’s words, chuckling at a witticism or two strewn among the mass of text greeting him. “He writes of home, of my family and….” He pauses before he allows himself to speak further, stealing himself away so as to not embarrass himself.

“And…?”

“Of you.”

“Of me?”

“Ah, yes, uhm,” he scrambles for words, his cheeks flushing as he recalls having mentioned you in his letter a month prior. Had he known his feelings would have coalesced into something more than an intrigued observation and into a budding courtship, he may as well have left your presence from the letter to deter Jihoon’s prying ways. “I mentioned your arrival and he’s inquired on whether you’ve turned out to be kindly or not.”

“Well?” You question, brow raised as the two of you stop walking in front of his room, the basket in your hand reminding you that you’d forgotten to return it upon your arrival back to the hotel. “Have I?”

“If your actions today don’t speak volumes to your generosity, then I should call myself a fool for saying you’ve been anything less than kind hearted— more so than anyone else I’ve met here… To me, at least.” His small smile once again prods at the corner of his lips, “I won’t speak on Jisoo’s behalf.”

“Thank you, Seokmin,” another smile creeps onto your lips as you look down the hall, “I suppose I should be getting to sleep—Jeonghan’s homework won’t finish itself.” Before you’re able to turn back towards him, you feel Seokmin’s hand gently pull you closer and then the soft feel of his lips against yours.

You had kissed a boy once before, but it had been at one of your family’s Christmas parties when you were a little over the age of sixteen. Josh and a few of his friends had smuggled some of their own spirits into the festivities, so while you danced and sang the night away, you were barely able to establish the stupor you were in until the next morning where it had formed into a splitting headache. 

Yet before the night had ended, you found yourself under the large oak in your family’s front yard, kissing one of Josh’s friends that eventually flittered aimlessly into the night, never to call on you again. 

That kiss had been sloppy, a drunken miasma of endearing regret that culminated from one glass of madeira too many. This kiss though holds words and emotion far too under the surface of both of your skins to be relinquished properly. Of unsaid promises and a look for direction in a darkened tunnel. 

It stays brief, his lips on yours lasting a few seconds, burning as they pull from you and his eyes widen. 

“I’m sorry,” his hands fly to the hem of his coat, messing with the fabric as he searches for words, a flush of red coating his cheeks, “something came over me I just—”

And you kiss him this time, wordlessly as your empty hand places atop one of his fidgeting ones. He leans into you, the fear of angering you subsiding as more spontaneous feelings begin to manifest deep within his chest. 

The two of you part, not gasping for air but feeling a significant lack of oxygen in your lungs. Seokmin stares at you for a moment, something forming in the glimmering of his eyes in the dimly lit glow of the hallway’s lamp. 

“I—” lips parted before you interject. 

“I should be going,” quickly speaking as you hoisted up the wicker basket in your grip. “I should return this before the ladies yell at me… See you tomorrow?” 

Seokmin nods too eagerly to look remotely collected, “See you tomorrow.” 

[ 1909.10.26. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] The leaves had just turned color the prior week, the sickly smell of their sweet decay wafts into the classroom’s open window as the sun shines directly onto Seokmin and his desk. If he weren’t in class, the man might have found himself basking and napping in the midday glow.

His mind remains anywhere but Jeonghan’s teachings at the moment. The courtship between you and he had only remained steadfast in the weeks following a short confession the day after he’d kissed you. Both you and he are meant to go to dinner this evening at a place Mingyu had recommended, although with the younger’s cruder palate, both you and Seokmin want to venture there on morbid curiosity alone.

Seokmin’s daydreaming of the evening to come ends when the sound of heavy footsteps begins to echo throughout the building. Having attended the school, as well as gotten to know its attendants, for a while now, Seokmin can tell it’s Seungkwan who’s just barged into the building.

“Itō’s been shot,” Seungkwan pants as he races into the classroom, “the paper just announced it.”

The younger looks absolutely pallid, sweat on his brow as his heavy breaths remain the only sound emanating from the group of students and lone professor.

“Shot?” The name stings Seokmin’s ears as he straightens in his seat. “Where?”

“Manchuria,” the paper procured from the bag in Seungkwan’s hands, extending out to the group so that anyone may take it. 

Jeonghan reaches it first, scanning the headlines, “Itō Hirobumi, a prince of Japan, but the greatest commoner in the empire, who was assassinated by a Korean today, had stood for two years between Korea and the degradation of immediate annexation, hoping to build up that country anew. He was shot down as he alighted from a special train at Harbin, Manchuria, whither he went from Tokyo in his capacity as president of the privy council on a mission of peace.”

Gaze lifting from the print, he looks to the class, the paper falling down atop the nearest desk as others move to read it, “This is… troubling.” 

Seokmin rises from his seat and walks to Jeonghan, scanning the rest of the article with bated breath, knowing that the ramifications of this were to be far more than just troubling. His stomach drops, knowing full well that this could mean a swift return home depending on how the Japanese government reacts to this, and even more worrisome- how the general public around them would treat his fellow countrymen residing in Japan.

[ 1909.10.29  今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] “Can I speak with you for a moment?” Josh looms over your desk where you’ve sprawled out your notes for the day. Ink stains riddling your fingertips as you close the textbook and look up to him, his hands buried in his jacket pockets. 

“Of course,” you nod, standing from the small wooden table. Your hands brush the front of your skirts, smoothing the disturbed fabric before you watch him begin to walk off. Quickly, your footsteps trail after him, down the hall of the school, through the lobby and out of the front door. 

You pass Seokmin and Mingyu on the way out, offering them both a curt wave before the cool winds of autumn greets you on the streets of Imadegawa. 

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

Josh stays silent, his back turned to you as a cart ambles down the road. His shoulders shrug as if he carries Atlas’ burden before he turns to you and speaks, “The thought of you getting hurt if you stay around here for too long worries me greatly.”

“What do you mean by ‘hurt’, Josh?” A bubbling of strife in your tone as you ask, further culminating as you continue to speak. “Are you going to get hurt if or when I leave?” An angered step towards him, “I know you lied about having a tutoring job, why are you here?”

“I never meant-” He frowns, mutters ‘shit’ under his breath as he breaks his gaze away from you. Hand tousling the already disturbed locks, dredging down his face as he gently pulls at the skin with his fingertips before relinquishing his hold on his own face. “Who told you?” The question sounds accusatory as he fails to answer your own questions, “Was it Seokmin?”

“Even if it was, why do you care?”

“Because the longer you stay here you become more enraptured by everything you know nothing about. I see you fawn over him -- have been seeing it for the last few weeks now,” Josh shakes his head.

“And what of it? Am I not allowed minor courting?”

“The longer you throw yourself at him the more you will come to regret it when the time comes to part. You should be home, safe. Here you are neither of those.”

“Do you really think I am staying here for that reason alone? Just for him?” You nearly roll your eyes at him, “I went to Tokyo to find you! I followed you to Kyoto, I traveled across half of the world for you!” 

“And you fell into the arms of the first man who showed interest in you! You never think rationally and look where you are!” His voice raises, not to an octave to draw attention, but enough to make you want to raise your own as well.

“I can say the same for you!” You huff, stomping off for a few feet, only to take a deep breath and turn to him.

“If you cannot believe that I have paused on the possibility of me leaving I would call you insane,” the incredulity drips from your words as venom does from the hollowed teeth of a snake. “There is absolutely nothing here for me in the grand scheme of it all, I know that. And yet there is nothing for me at home except for the anticipation of a life that I do not want without you in it.” Breaths heaving from your chest as you try and compose yourself to the best of my ability, “You’re my best friend, Josh, but don’t think that I can’t make my own rational decisions without your input.”

“You two are more similar than I could have ever imagined,” His eyes rise to the clouded sky as if he’s having a conversation within himself. After a moment he sighs, exhaling all the air in his lungs before he shakes his head and looks at you.

“I was never planning on going back to Seoul,” he frowns, “I really did have a job in Germany, not in Seoul, though. I received news that a friend fell ill. I decided to visit should he not recover from the illness. He passed on the first of May and asked me to visit a friend in Tokyo for him prior to his death.”

“Why you, though?” 

“There wasn’t anyone that he knew in Seoul that would be allowed in Japan because of their acquaintance with him.”

“Who was this friend?”

“Ernest Bethel, I met him while I was with Daniel Lim in London.” Josh shakes his head, “He began a publication that called out the atrocities of the Japanese soldiers in Korea. They put him on trial for it and barred him and anyone that worked under him from entry into Japan.”

“Josh…” You begin but he cuts your words in two.

“With the climate now… With the growing disdain for foreign nationals after Itō’s assassination, I cannot guarantee your safety here,” the look in his eyes reminds you of an abandoned pup, lost and almost hopeless, “And that scares me more than anything.”

[ 1909.11.16. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] The days since your conversation with Josh had been nothing short of meandering, lessons, studying and then more lessons. Time with Seokmin had been almost always interjected with another student hoping to make conversation or with the looming presence of your aforementioned friend somewhere beyond. Although you remain unsure if Josh had spoken to Seokmin about his malcontent with your new budding relationship, you can almost ascertain something has been divulged unto him as his more public displays of affection have become intermittent throughout the days progressing. 

And you cannot find it within yourself to press him on it. Jeonghan had assigned him a presentation project that he was to give in a handful of days and Seokmin had spent most of if not all of his free time in the little library of dictionaries and manuals that lay scattered about in the back of the classroom. Ink stuck to Seokmin’s fingers most evenings, and oftentimes most mornings as he seems rather unable to clean the stains himself. 

As your thoughts linger on this, you look to the sedentary streets outside, the inside of the schoolhouse dim with the waning light of worn lamps and lanterns scattered around. A few passerbys occasionally look into the building, most just move on without a second thought.

Quiet resounds around the building, only the gentle scratching of your pencil atop your paper. The interior is quieter than usual on this Tuesday evening– many of the boys had gone out, drinking, no doubt. But you cannot be too angry at them, apparently Jeonghan, in his chase of school authority, had given them a rather difficult test last week and had announced the results earlier this evening. Judging by the demeanor of those who left the classroom, this is a much needed getaway. So, after a chaste, secret kiss on the cheek, Seokmin was swept off by the other students, leaving you sitting alone to complete your work in silence. 

The seconds, minutes and hours tick away as you scribble and oft daydream into the ever becoming night. Then, you hear voices, feet scrambling and foreign words you only begin to comprehend as the doors to the school burst open and a plethora of bodies pour inside. 

“What happened?” The confusion sweeping into the room, overwhelming as an amalgamation of movement and shouting in several languages begins to overwhelm you. It’s then you begin to count heads; Seokmin, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Chan… 

“Where’s Josh?” Amid the chaos you look at Mingyu, dread in his face paling as the seconds pass. “Mingyu,” you ask, voice growing softer as a sickening dread begins to clamp around your abdomen, “where is he?”

“He was injured.” A voice to your right. Seokmin stands in the gentle twilight of the school’s entranceway, dusk falling behind him as he moves to shut the door. “Jeonghan has taken him to his friend’s home to get him treatment.”

Mingyu begins to call out to you, to deter you from what Seokmin’s just relayed. But you still feel that clutching dread begging you to ask for more information. 

“Injured? Is he okay? Can I go and see him?” Voice now fraught with panic, you begin to question everything. “What happened?” Even if you and Josh had been at odds earlier, he is still a dear friend to you. 

A glance downward and you see Seokmin’s hands, stained not with the ink you recall from earlier but red with what you presume to be the blood of your friend. Another glance around the room and you see some of their shirts and pants have oblong streaks of drying cruor adorning them, almost as if they’d been carrying the injured party. 

“I think it would probably be best that we fill you in tomorrow,” Mingyu says with a frown, his own hands shoving into his pockets as if to hide any evidence of what had occurred, “all of us are… trying to understand what happened.” 

“Hey, Mingyu,” Seungkwan says something offhandedly to him, but you’re too hyper focused to try and translate. 

“Really?” Mingyu says to his friend and sighs out, shaking his head, a few beads of sweat that had been clinging onto the ends of his soaked locks fall onto the floor. He returns his gaze to you, a grimace set on his lips before speaking, “The group is going to go back out, we can walk you to your hotel if you need us to.”

But you do not feel like walking, you’re not sure that you can with the weight surmounting in your legs as the joints are locked into place. You let yourself have a strangled gulp before trying to compose yourself, “I will wait here for you all to come back.”’

“Are you sure?” Mingyu says hesitantly, “There’s a good chance that we may not be back until morning.”

“I don’t think I could leave if I tried,” you offer a weakened attempt at a smile. Hands clenching to try and stop the undeniable tremble coursing through you, the nauseating dread making you want to curl up and cry. 

“I’ll stay back with her,” Seokmin speaks up from beside you, his voice soft among the chatter that’s occurring elsewhere in the hall. 

Mingyu doesn’t speak, only looks from you to Seokmin before nodding his head in acquiescence. He calls the others over to tell them of their next plan, each resounding off a stuttered goodbye before leaving the school and treading back out into the now darkened streets. 

You stand staring at the doorway for a while, you’re not sure for how long as time feels both encased in ice and unbelievably fast at the current moment. It’s only when Seokmin moves to close the door once more are you pulled from staring out into nothingness and onto something real. 

His hands, bloodied and crude, remain at his sides as he removes them from the door’s handle and looks to you. There’s a glimmer of what looks like weariness in his eyes as he glances down to his palms, perhaps now only realizing to the extent they were stained. 

“Let me get you some soap and water,” you tell him, quickly leaving him standing alone as you whisk yourself off to the small bathroom in the back corner of the building. 

You grab the lye soap that sits atop the porcelain basin of the sink, only then to grab a bucket sitting next to it typically used for mopping. The contents dumped into the basin, you refill it to the best of your ability with the lukewarm water from the groaning pipes. 

Returning to the lobby of the school, you find Seokmin sitting at one of the tables lying at the entrance. He’s watching the world pass by as he sits, his eyes lost as he distracts himself with anything but his present. 

“Let me see your hands,” you say, setting the bucket down on the table top, as well as setting down the towel you’d slung over your shoulder. 

Seokmin jumps before he turns to you, startled by your presence as he probably hadn’t heard you come back. 

“There are bigger things to worry about other than my hands,” he begins to protest, only to have you shake your head at him and motion for him to extend his hands to you. And he does reluctantly, still sitting as you take his hand into yours. “Thank you…” his voice is quiet as you take the towel in your free hand and dip it into the water, only then to do a precursory scrub of his palm and fingers before lathering the soap onto it. 

“...Can you tell me what happened?” You ask, dipping the towel back into the water, noticing the liquid turning a tinge pink as you do so. Stomach twisting, you can tell Seokmin’s reluctant to answer by the way the digits on his hand twitch. 

He coughs to clear his throat, “We were in Gion meeting with one of Jisoo’s acquaintances. The name escapes me, Donggeun, I think— But things turned sour quickly, some man started yelling at us after he heard us speak and then Jeonghan tried to calm him down. He was speaking so quickly that I couldn’t understand what he was saying.”  Seokmin recounts the event to you, but it’s still hard to get the gist of what had happened. “I know he said something about Itō’s death, but that wasn’t our fault,” tongue swiping over his bottom lip as you switch to his other hand, “even if it should have been. He got so riled up he called over a pair of policemen, we thought after talking to them they would let us go, but as we were leaving there were two shots that rang out. One hit the pavement beside us and the other hit Jisoo in the leg.”

Your grip on Seokmin’s hand tightens at his last statement, he winces and pulls away, settling his hand atop the coarse towel and beginning to brush off the suds and water that remain stuck onto his hand. For the most part, the gore and viscera that stained both his skin and nails had muted into a softer pink, splotchy, but for the most part gone. He heaves out a breath, unable to look at you as he composes his thoughts,

“I don’t think it was the officers who fired, though. Jisoo said that it was as we were carrying him off but when I looked back the officers had the man who was yelling at us pinned on the ground.” It’s hard to say why Seokmin’s relaying this piece of information, almost as if he’s doubting himself. “We took Jisoo to one of Jeonghan’s friend’s houses, you should probably be able to see him late tomorrow or the next day depending on how things go.” 

Hands fumbling around with the rag in your hands, you nod and drop it into the bucket with a soft plop. “Thank you for telling me.” After a moment you move to grab both sides of the bucket, returning to the sink in the small bathroom and dumping the bloodied contents down the drain before placing it on the ground. 

You meet your reflection in the grimy mirror atop the basin, the dim light overhead casting strange and oblong shadows on your face as you notice how downcast you look. Eyes with dark circles, hair unkempt, more so than the typically casual look you adorn yourself with. 

A tear, hot and scorching, rolls down your cheek, a mass of guilt engraving its way on the hallows of your face before it drops into the sick. 

“Are you… okay?”

Maybe you’d been in here longer than you thought, Seokmin’s voice calling out after a gentle knock on the bathroom door. The light above flickers from the rumble of an incoming train somewhere in the distance, your hand falls to grip the basin of the sink, porcelain cool against your skin as you brace yourself to speak.

A cough into your hand, a look from your bleary eyes into your bleary visage in the mirror at Seokmin’s words. 

“I’m alright,” you say to yourself more than Seokmin, turning to open the door. You meet him, face to face in the dark hallway of the school and absolutely crumple. “I’m alright,” this time you say it while falling into him, face pressing against his shoulder as the wells of tears brimming stain into the gray of his coat. 

His hands find yours after a moment, gently pulling you towards the lobby of the school, the quiet sounds of your footsteps ringing around the hall. You find seating on the staircase leading to the second floor, Seokmin quietly sitting next to you, letting you weep all you need to. 

Soon you find that your tears run dry, leaving hot and sticky trails down the sides of your face as Seokmin continues to provide quiet comfort, one of his hands still entwined with yours. 

Head on his shoulder, your eyes trail to the dimly lit street outside, not a single person caring or knowing the strife you’re riddled with. It’s hard to ascertain whether you’re unbelievably angry or unbelievably upset, but your breaths lay heavy in your chest laden with that uncertain feeling. 

“I think I’d like to go back to the hotel,” the statement cold as it leaves you, anything but the comfort of which you desire set into every syllable. 

The walk back is forgotten in the haze of the events that transpired earlier in the evening, glowing lanterns buzzing with an electricity seen only to you and dimmed in the darkness encompassing your very being. 

Your lips don’t speak another word until you’re standing in front of your door at the hotel, Seokmin standing beside you in silent solidarity. Fingers grasping for the small key in your bag, hesitating before you slide the gilded thing into the lock. Turning to Seokmin you softly ask, “Can I stay with you tonight?”

The statement that would typically leave him flustered and pink takes on the air of a silent plea tonight. Anguish in your eyes and voice that you lay in front of him, vulnerable and nearly at your wit’s end. 

“Of course,” it’s nothing short of a quick response, his hand sliding into yours as he waits for you to take the first few steps towards his chamber. 

As you enter his room, you find that the only garment you discard is your jacket and shoes, flung atop the sofa and scattered on the floor before you fall into Seokmin’s bed. The scent of him fills your senses, only more so when he comes to kneel by the bedside so he can speak to you. 

“I’ll sleep on the settee, try and get some sleep so we can visit Jisoo tomorrow.”

“Seokmin, I can nearly see your breath from here,” you reach out, taking his chilled hand into yours, gently pulling him towards the bed, “sleep in your own bed.”

“I should think a lady deserves a proper–”

“We can sleep on it together,” a pause as heat rises to the flesh on your cheeks, “Separately, of course. I just need the proximity of someone comforting.”

“You honor me,” Seokmin's smile curls at the edge of his lips, “I’ll go change in the bathroom, please make yourself feel comfortable.” 

For a moment more, Seokmin pauses, looking at you before you relinquish him from your grasp. He makes a slow approach towards the bathroom before heading inside, the door locking with a small click, leaving you alone with the empty space of the main interior. 

[ 1909.11.19. 今出川ホテル、京都 ] The space of your dreams is nothing but a black, endless void that only aids in helping grow the gnawing anxiousness that pervades you even during sleep. It isn’t until the unfamiliar feeling of a hand ghosting your side pulls you from slumber. For a moment your heart races, your own hand reaching to grasp as the one hovering over you now—

“Sorry if this is too-” A sigh escapes you as Seokmin’s whisper grounds you in quiet reality. “You seemed troubled.” 

“Don’t apologize,” your voice rough from sleep, the ghost of your fingers atop the smooth surface of his hand, gently pressing the pads of your fingertips to him as a quiet gesture. You don’t turn to him from your side, instead looking towards the thick blue velveteen curtains that obscure any notion of light from the outside in front of you. “It’s alright, I promise. Are you alright?” 

From behind you can feel the bed shift with a short, unfunny laugh from his chest, “I don’t know. I suppose I am but tonight… I think it’s shaken everyone.”

“Do you think Josh will be okay?” A murmur from your lips as you gently pull Seokmin’s hand closer to your chest in want of comfort. 

Another shift, and you can tell he’s gingerly moving himself towards you, “He has to be.”

The call of the darkening void begins to etch its way around your vision. How can you sleep at a time like this? You should be racing over there now to see him. But that would make it real, the peril, why Josh had been anxious about you staying those handful of weeks back… 

With a squeeze, you relinquish Seokmin’s hand from your grasp and he returns it to its original position on your side, “I don’t know if I made the right decision coming here,” voice lost into the darkness of the room, in the breathing by the being beside you, you think to be asleep. 

“I don’t know if I did either,” a sleepy response from Seokmin, voice riddled with a tired concern ringing in its whisper. “But I don’t regret it,” his hand laid across your waist ever so slightly grasping at you as if to show his unspoken thoughts.

[ 1909.11.18. 滑川康男の住居、京都 ] The areas of Kyoto you had previously traversed seemed to be marketed towards a more foreign influence, you’ve come to surmise. Now as you walk anxiously with your hands threaded together through rows and rows of wooden-sided homes with thatched or tiled roofs, you’ve begun to see past the veneer of opulence that sought to bring in the traveling and wanderlustful for what the average citizen sees on a day-to-day basis. It is no more humble than the homes of Boston, in a way it reminds you almost nostalgically of what and who you left behind across the ocean and near an entire continent. A cat lazing on a nearby stoop gives you pause for a moment before you continue, lengthening your strides as you return to your party. 

“When Josh’s better he’ll need to return to Minnie.” You say rather assuredly, willing it to be, as Seokmin and you trail behind Jeonghan.

“Is that his… Friend?” With the way Seokmin emphasizes the last word you cannot help but let out a stifled chortle.

“She’s a cat,” you answer him quickly and he nods in understanding. “Did you have any pets growing up?”

Seokmin looks ahead at the road in front of him, the bustling streets hindering your path for a moment, the crowds coming in and out like the tides along the river. “We had a dog to guard the house, he might still be there but he was old and gray when I left. Not really a pet, though.”

“I see…” 

“We’ll be there soon,” Jeonghan calls from up ahead, “It’s just around this block.”

With those words you subconsciously find your legs moving even faster towards your friend.

The house that you arrived at was much like the other ones lining the streets. You’re welcomed in quietly by the host, their name eluding you as your vision tunneled to where they said your friend lay in quiet rest. 

“He should be awake,” Jeonghan says quietly, “Go and speak with him, we’ll be out here if you need anything.”

Down the hall, first room on the left. That’s where you find Josh looking outside, one of the sliding doors open to look towards the inner garden of the home, facing away from the sliding door you'd entered from. He lays in a futon, a stack of fresh bandages on the tatami next to him. With the way his breath rises and falls, you're unsure if he’s asleep or not.

“Josh?” You ask gingerly, stepping into the room. “Are you awake?”

When you hear him mutter out something you take a few strides toward him. His injured right leg remains covered by a blanket, held up by what you assumed to be a propped up pillow. There are beads of sweat pooled on his forehead as he turns slowly to meet your gaze.

His name leaves your mouth in a whisper as you fall to his side, knees thudding atop the tatami as you inch yourself closer. “How are you?” You wince at the question, fully knowing it wasn’t the best one to be asked.

“I’ve…” The words are slow to come, hoarse from a throat rung raw from pain, no doubt. “I’ve been better. Would you mind fetching my water? I’m not very amble at the moment.”

“Of course,” You say quickly, looking to the nightstand where a singular glass and water filled bucket lay. You notice your hands trembling slightly as you hand him the glass and help move it towards his lips. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, I just had to see if you…” 

“I understand,” he says, you notice his face is pale. Too pale for comfort.

“You’re absolutely feverish,” the back of your hand pressing gently against his forehead. Your free hand reaches to one of the rags already submerged in the basin of water atop the nightstand. “Were you injured anywhere else?”

“My pride remains intact, my morale slightly asunder but I’m sure it will recover in time,” he flashes you a weak smile. “I never like making you worry, even if it seems that’s all I make you do.”

“Do you remember when you were twelve and you had scarlet fever?”

“I remember being absolutely miserable,” Josh murmurs out, wiping the beads of water away from his eyes with the fabric of his shirt.

“Your mother sought out any doctor she could find to try and help you, and the plethora of holy men too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a rabbi and an Episcopal priest in the same room as each other before,” you snort, recalling how frantic his mother had been. It had been scary, but he had made it.

The frown on his face encapsulates him for a moment and his eyes close, his head hitting the wall behind him gently, “You said that you loved me.”

It feels as if your heart has dropped into your stomach. You remember kneeling by his bed, whispering prayers to any and all gods that would help him recover from that illness. His pinkend and rashed flesh on display as the doctors said exposing the areas of effect would cause it to weaken the strain of disease, maybe. Under heavy sedation of laudanum and whatever other mystery tincture, it had stripped him of happiness and prayer was the only thing you offer, it wasn’t as if you were a physician or miracle man. Also, hadn’t he been asleep when you confessed that at his bedside?

Freezing before you’re able to dip the rag in the bucket again, “That was years ago, Josh. I do love you but not…”

It’s him that stifles a laugh, “I know. But it is still endearing that you’ve stayed by my side, I really do appreciate it.”

“You ass,” a gentle nudge, “You must truly be ill if you’re complimenting me for my duty as your best friend.”

“You’re probably right,” he replies breathily. His hand reaches out, and you take it instinctively. His grip is weak but reassuring. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You sit there in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the rustle of the barren branches tapping against one another and the occasional chirp of birds. The tranquility of the scene contrasts sharply with the turmoil you feel inside. Josh has always been the strong one, the one to pull you out of your own dark times. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and dependent, shakes you to your core.

“You should rest,” you say softly, breaking the silence. “You need your strength. Did you want me to close the doors? It’s getting rather cold in here.”

He shakes his head, but you can see something stirring within. Words lay heavy on Josh’s tongue, you can see him formulating his thoughts before he speaks abruptly. “I’m going to Tokyo,” Josh sighs after a moment, sounding resolute. “After this,” his hand waves to his blanketed leg, “is healed.”

Now it is your turn to frown, “Tokyo? Whatever for?”

“It’s come to my understanding that my friends haven’t been making any headway for our cause,” Josh sighs out and you have the feeling he’s intentionally being vague.

“Why not ask the American government for help?” Even if he chooses to don the masque of ambiguity, you can still infer what he means.

“America and Japan have been formulating plans together for some years now, exercising their rights with one another. That’s how America gained control of the Philippines and Japan got control of Korea, the Pescadores, Taiwan and parts of Manchuria,” Josh relents after a moment. With the way his eyes widen briefly you can tell he’s already opened the door slightly for what his intentions may be., “I have hope and reason to believe that I can be more impactful if I reach the Korean consulate in Tokyo. I fear America will not be of any aid.” 

You take a deep breath, your hands still trembling slightly. “I understand your passion, Josh. I truly do. But promise me you won’t make any hasty decisions. Rest, heal properly. Then we can talk about how best to proceed.”

He nods, though you can tell he’s only partially conceding to your point. “I’ll rest. But I can’t promise to delay for too long.”

His stubbornness is both frustrating and admirable, and you feel a surge of protectiveness over your friend. “That’s all I can ask for now. Just... don’t push yourself too hard.”

Josh gives you a faint smile. “I’ll try not to, for your sake.”

You return to the main room, Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Jeonghan’s friend sitting around and not speaking. 

Seokmin stands as you enter, his hands twisting together as he notices the dour look on your face, “How is he?”

“As stubborn as ever,” you sigh out, “But I think he’ll be okay, I cannot be certain about the usage of his leg though–?” Eyes trail to Jeonghan and his friend, the latter of whom stands to address you.

“Apologies for not introducing myself, my name is Otomonoi Hiromu. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances but the doctor that was here earlier this morning said your friend would recover, albeit the mobility of his leg may be altered. The bullet failed to hit any major artery but shattered the bone of his femur…” 

Your stomach rolls and you nod your head slowly, “How long will his recovery take?”

“With the application of the Thomas splint anywhere from three to six months,” Jeonghan interjects, “We’re planning on having him moved to my residence within the next day. I fear we’ve encroached on Hiromu’s kindness too much already.”

“It’s truly no issue Jeonghan,” Hiromu nods and looks back to you, “Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” You say curtly and glance to Seokmin, “Did you wish to speak to him?”

“I think Josh needs his rest,” Seokmin says softly, and as if your apprehension is palpable suggests, “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

“Oh? Okay,” you murmur and take the arm Seokmin offers you. 

“We’ll meet you back at the school tomorrow evening if you wish,” Seokmin states to Jeonghan. “I cannot imagine that classes will be held today or tomorrow?”

“No, they won’t be.” Jeonghan nods, “I’ll send out letters informing the students of our reopening sometime later this week or next. Until tomorrow then.”

“Until then,” Seokmin then leads you outside, past the gate of the home and back to the busy streets. The two of you walk in silence, the churning in your stomach not lessening, despite your far proximity to the house in which Josh lay. “How are you feeling?” His voice breaks through to your thoughts after another few moments of walking.

“I did not see his leg,” you murmur, “but with the blood and panic of everyone yesterday I can surmount that it is no simple injury…”

“That isn’t what I asked,” Seokmin says softly, “I can only imagine the horrors you have felt in the last twenty-four hours.”

“No more than you, I suspect. I was not there when it happened.” You wince as you speak, unable to conjure the imagery of the attack in your mind. “I know Josh will get better, know that he is alive. That alone is enough to make me okay for now, at least.”

[ 1909.12.31 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] Josh’s leg never healed fully. While he can apply pressure, a tearing pain sometimes courses the length of it, so, rather to be safe than sorry, he’s become acclimated to walking with a wooden crutch to catch himself should he ever find himself unstable. Aided by the arm of another, Josh slowly makes his way down the streets of Kyoto.

“I could have made it on my own, you know.” Josh’s voice escapes him in a plume of white, the breath intermingling with a few flakes of snow dancing towards the icy and muddied street below. A thin line of perspiration begins to form along his brow, but as it hits the frigid air it makes his body seem almost colder. “My speed has been reduced but I do not need such constant attending to.”

“She asked me to escort you,” Seokmin says, releasing Jisoo from his grasp, “I could do nothing but oblige.” 

Jisoo lets out a short, dry laugh at that, “She has a way of ordering us around.” 

The two of them walk still, their cheeks becoming more and more reddened with the wind that whips at them, slashing through the air at no measurable pace. There are few others on the road at this hour, the streetlamps glow in the nighttime, leading them further into the heart of the city. It isn’t until they come upon the familiar building which houses Jeonghan’s school that a liveliness begins to pervade the wintry night. Music drifts from the building, as does the sound of chatter and laughter.

“Is that…  A piano?” Seokmin asks, both he and Jisoo know there were no instruments to be found in that building prior.

“A phonograph, perhaps.” Jisoo murmurs as they stop outside, noticing a figure loitering around the front. A plume of smoke rises from the turned figure, Jisoo lets out a sigh and calls out to them, “If your mother knew you were smoking, she’d have your head Mingyu.”

“Shit-” The younger jumps as he’d not heard the two approach. “She only wrote a scathing letter once about my allowance usage and that’s all you can remember of her.” Mingyu turns to the pair, “I’m happy you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Jisoo flashes him a small smile. “I think it’s a bit too cold out here for me, so I’ll see you inside?”

“Of course,” Mingyu nods, “And be careful– I think Jeonghan was a bit… heavy handed with his pours tonight.”

It isn’t long until the two of them make their way into the now cramped space, soon finding themselves with a respective rum punch in hand. Jisoo notes the faces that pass, most looking to the crutch at his side, and it leaves a sour taste on his tongue. Despite the people, he doesn’t find you among the faces that shift by him, and by the way Seokmin scans the crowd next to him, he cannot find you either. 

Eventually Jisoo and Seokmin find you at the keys of an upright piano. An upright piano that had not been there the week prior, which had been the last time Jisoo had visited the school. A cordial glass in hand, your free one seeks to play a small accompaniment to a piece that Seungkwan plays while seated next to you on the bench.

“I never knew you knew how to play!” Seungkwan says loudly, lifting his hands from the keys and reaching for his own glass atop the piano. 

“My mother made me take absolutely tear-inducing lessons when I was younger,” you laugh, taking a sip from your drink. You recoil a bit from the flavor, “Although I must admit it has come to my aid at parties, even though there is much to be desired.”

“I was unaware you played as well,” Seokmin notes as Jisoo and he approach the bench, “You play wonderfully.”

“It was Seungkwan doing all of the work,” you admit, “And Josh can attest to my skill, as poorly as it is.”

“I’ll adamantly deny your assessment, you played a lovely set at my mother’s birthday several years ago,” He gives you a warm smile. “So much so that she begs me every year to urge you to play again for her.”

“Well, if I am back in time to play for her next year, you can consider me booked.”

“Then I must write to her to let her know of it,” He says and you turn your attention back to the piano. Jisoo’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he sinks into the crowd, looking for Jeonghan. It isn’t long until he finds his friend mingling with a few of the Chinese students in one of the classrooms. 

“Would you all mind if I stole him away for a while?” Jisoo asks the group, while nodding his head towards Jeonghan. “Business, I’m afraid.”

Within a few moments the students have cleared the room, only leaving the two of them together. Josh sighs, setting his glass down onto one of the tables, and leaning against it slightly.

“Where in the world did you acquire a piano?”

“Do you like it?” Jeonghan smiles, “Hiromu’s sister was moving houses and had to do away with it… Too gauche or something of the like.” He hums and takes a sip of his drink, an old fashioned by the look of it. “Now, what is it you want to talk about? I know you cannot have asked to clear the room over a piano.”

“Am I that easy to read?” Jisoo laughs, glancing to the hall to make sure no one was listening. “It is my intention to go to Tokyo within the upcoming week or so. I hope to have your discretion on the matter.”

“Who is it that you wouldn’t want to– Ah.” Jeonghan begins to ask, “You’ve already run off on her once, are you so eager to do it once again?”

“It isn’t as if I wouldn’t come back to her, I never intend to hurt her as I did before.” The taller sighs out, reaching for his drink. He takes a hearty swig, “She is my oldest friend and confidant of all things unrelated to the reasons that brought me here. I had only hoped to keep these two spheres of myself from ever colliding. But she is a whirlwind I can never account for.”

“And what is to stop her from following after you once more?” Jeonghan prods, “She is a whirlwind, after all.”

“Seokmin.” Jisoo says simply.

“He’s staying here?”

“No,” Jisoo shakes his head, “He’s coming with me. With both he and I’s assurance she will have to accept that we will return. She adores him too much to allow him to put himself in harm’s way.”

“What a gamble, thinking that she’ll do just that.” Jeonghan muses, knowing fully how well you seem to take heed from either of the two men. “As a friend I will not say anything to make her feel untoward towards your departure. But you cannot be angry with me if she chooses to go after you.”

“How could I?” Josh says with a small, thankful smile. “Now, I was also hoping to get a few contacts from you, although I suppose that can wait until after this little soiree. Apologies for taking you away from it.”

“It’s not an issue,” a wave of the thought away. “Now have fun, be merry. Mingle before everyone begins falling over themselves.”

And fall over themselves they do. The hours seem to pass in minutes with games, stories and revelers in abundance. Jisoo finds himself flitting from group to group, with Mingyu and you speaking of prospective stories, to Seungkwan, Chan and Junhui arguing about some type of grammatical dissimilarity in Japanese compared to Korean and Chinese. He passes Seokmin at some point, who seems to be chatting with one of Jeonghan’s invited friends about the news industry. The party goes on late into the night, and it seems by the quarter hour another person has to step outside to regain their composure from the drunken stupors they find themselves in.

At one point, as the clock nears towards the end of the night and into the new year, Josh escapes from the bustle and sits on the stairs that lead to the second story of the building. He settles down, a third drink of the night placed on the stair next to him and his wooden crutch leaning against the wall.

A sigh escapes him and he tilts his head backwards, several joints popping in his neck. His eyes close and for a moment he listens to the chatter floating by him, of merriment and not the sinister dread that invades him most hours of the day. In another life he may have been able to enjoy tonight, but that path died early on in his life, especially since his first visit to Korea nearly fifteen years ago. A pang shoots up his leg as he shifts, reminding him more of the peril that he puts himself into. And another pang begins in his stomach, clenching and festering as he is reminded of the danger he has put you into. 

Jisoo laments not writing to you before he left Korea, perhaps that would have diminished his fears. He laments telling his mother a portion of the truth of his detainment in Tokyo. He should have known word would get to you and that only God himself would be able to stop you from reaching him. He laments for keeping his thoughts to himself when he should have been more honest with you. There are many things he regrets, the ire of which is now before him as he hears movement coming from the hall of classrooms. With stiffened movement, he straightens and looks over to see you leading Seokmin out of one of the busy classrooms, your hands intertwined with his. 

He thinks of saying something, to announce his presence, but before he can he sees your face near Seokmin’s. You plant a soft kiss on his cheek as you whisper “Happy New Year”. Seokmin’s hand breaks free from your interlocking fingers as he goes to caress your cheek, it lowers and he guides you to meet his lips in a kiss that Jisoo would not describe as chaste.

Jisoo looks away from the two of you, suddenly now very interested in looking at a poster of the hiragana alphabet hanging on a nearby wall. The two of them leave for the party after a few more words that are too whispered for Jisoo to hear, and he himself decides that he should return as well. After more mingling among the students and friends, he excuses himself, but not before asking Seokmin to join him for a cigarette.

“Okay,” Seokmin cedes as he bids you a short farewell, promising to be back soon. He follows Jisoo out to the school entrance, the few flakes that had been falling from the sky becoming nothing more than a flake every moment or so now. “It looks as if the weather has taken a good turn.”

“If only it will stay that way,” Jisoo says, reaching for the case of cigarettes and matchbook in his coat. “Would you mind striking this for me? I’m afraid I am still hindered.” 

“Of course,” Seokmin says, taking the matchbook and swiftly igniting one of the matches. He holds the flame to Jisoo’s dangling cigarette, making sure it’s ignited before dropping it to the snow below. 

“Thanks.” Jisoo takes a moment, letting the smoke mingle with the cold in his mouth before exhaling deeply. “Have you been enjoying your night?”

“It’s been quite a lovely party.” Seokmin nods, “Have you had any issues maneuvering around?”

“No, not at all.” Jisoo responds before taking another drag of his cigarette. “I was wondering if you had told her about our plans to leave in the coming weeks, or if I should be the one to break the news to her–?”

A look of almost panic takes over Seokmin’s face momentarily, Jisoo can’t tell the full extent as the streetlamps light only but so much. His brow furrows as he looks on to the younger, “Am I to take that as you haven’t mentioned it?”

“No– No, I have mentioned it to her.” 

“Then why do you look at me if I am a parent about to scold you?”

“I invited her to join us,” Seokmin says quickly as Jisoo lets the cigarette fall from his mouth to the snow below, “And I know you made note of not asking her to but with her aid I truly feel that–!”

Before Seokmin can finish speaking, Jisoo finds himself grappling the younger to the ground, the pain tearing through his leg be damned. “You fool–! It was expressly my intention not to bring her, are you deaf or so lost in your way you defy reason? Do you love her?” Both a question and a realization wrapped in a sentence too pained he hadn’t wanted it to spew from his lips. “Is that why you’re doing this?”

“Of course I love her.” Answered as if the question had been as simple as ‘Is the sky blue?’ Seokmin shoves Jisoo, so the two are now parted, sitting on the muddy ground. “But not like a disillusioned oaf. Think, for a moment, of the circumstance and not of her beguile that you too, seem to fall asunder to.”

The wetness of the earth begins clinging to Jisoo’s trousers, seeping up from the ground below. “In what way would she aid us? You’ve just about solidified her acquaintance with us and if we were ever to be found out…”

“Do you not think that she is aware of that?”

“No, Seokmin, I do not!” Jisoo shakily rises to his feet, reaching for the crutch he’d discarded in his fury. “I have had many friends die because they thought to speak their minds. Would you bear that responsibility for someone whom we both deeply care for? Her blood would be on your hand–” 

It’s Seokmin who acts out not, sending a fist flying that collides with Jisoo’s cheek. The older falters, but is otherwise unmoved from the display of rage from his friend. His hand raises to the site of the newfound injury, and he tenderly touches it.

“I will take your anger as drunkenness. But you know the truth as much as I do.” Jisoo says solemnly, “I cannot make her stay, but you have put everything at risk by bringing her. It would be in our best interest to send her home.”

Seokmin’s breathing remains heavy as he nurses the hand he’d used to assail Jisoo, “You know she would never let us.”

“Then we do not allow her a choice.” Jisoo frowns, his hands reaching back into his coat for another cigarette, “I will play the villain but you must not fill her head with promises of a bright future. Everything grows more uncertain by the day and I wish for her to be as far away from this politicking and scheming as she can.”

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König's Haunted House Disaster

Inspired by @machveil 's post HERE and my little blorbo of König punching out recruits HERE, I figured that for the day before Halloween I should write about just what exactly went down on the night Horangi, Hutch and Askel took König to a haunted house.

Art from This Post

12:00 - Ten Hours Before the Ban

"Hey König! You gotta check this out!" Horangi called across the cafeteria, enthusiastically waving his phone as he jogged over.

König, already tired of what Horangi was about to say, simply grunted when the Korean man slid into the seat beside him. He tried his best to convey just how tired he was, but it was to no avail as Horangi eagerly crowded into his personal space to show him his crack phone screen.

"You really should get that replaced," König grumbled as Horangi shuffled closer.

"You sound like my Mom," Horangi commented before pressing play on the video.

König winced at the volume as Horangi hurriedly turned it down with a whispered 'Sorry!'.

"You really are a useless-"

"Look!" Horangi jammed his finger at a small sign in the video.

König leaned in and squinted.

"Horangi, my eyes are good but they're not that good. Can you just tell me what it says?"

"This place is near our base!" Horangi explained, "let's get a few guys and we'll go!"

"You want to go to a... A scary house?" König asked curiously.

"A haunted house König," Horangi sniffed, "seriously you moved from Germany over ten years ago and you still don't know what a haunted house is?"

König huffed, "My mind blanked. I know what they are."

"Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that," Horangi drawled before switching tabs to get to a poorly formatted website, "now look, tickets are cheap here. It's only five euros to get in!"

For a moment, König's eyes sparkled.

"Only five euros?" he muttered, "that's not too bad... I could be convinced."

"If we go to the shwarma place fist would that help?"

"... Maybe."

"Alright I'll tell Hutch," Horangi swung his legs from out of the bench.

König watched, slightly stunned, as Horangi swaggered away to the other cafeteria.

"Aren't you going to have lunch with me?" König asked.

Horangi turned to look over his shoulder and scoffed, "Nah, I've got shit to do. I wanna go, but if we don't get enough of a crowd it's just not worth it."

König narrowed his eyes, "Was I only asked to boost numbers?"

Horangi shrugged, "Why are you worried?"

"Don't you consider me a friend?" König asked bitterly.

"Yeah," Horangi said, "but you always push the chair back in the car until it hits my knees."

"Then drive," König stated.

"I don't need you on my case too," Horangi grumbled and walked away, leaving König to sit with an empty tray in front of him.

He glared at the gleaming steel.

"Did I really eat it all that fast?"

17:00 - Five Hours Before the Ban

Hutch took a long swig of water before dropping his arm to his lap. He waved at König fondly, "Hey there."

König waved back curtly and picked up a dumbbell before sitting on a bench and starting his bicep curls.

"You doing another set?" Hutch asked.

"Why not?" König shrugged.

"That's what I keep telling myself, but then I strain something," Hutch laughed, "you best watch yourself old man."

"I am not old!" König grumbled, "I only just turned thirty a month ago."

"You're in your thirties. You're old," Hutch smirked.

"You're what, twenty-nine?" König huffed.

"Twenty-seven and eleven months, thank you," Hutch replied.

"Oh so you'll be old soon enough," König snorted.

Hutch shook his head and wiped a blue towel over her forehead, "Nah, once I hit thirty then thirty-five is old."

"Oh," König rolled his eyes, "I see. So I won't be old for long."

"Did I say thirty-five? I meant thirty-one" Hutch took another sip of water.

"You're worse than Horangi," König puffed as he neared the end of his rep.

"König," Hutch glared down his nose at the bigger man, "nobody's as bad as Horangi."

König put the dumbbell by his feet and set his timer before he admitted, "Maybe not."

"Speaking of Horangi though," Hutch started stretching his arms over his chest, "I heard that he invited you to come out with us?"

"Word really does go around fast here," König muttered.

"When it's with Horangi? Sure does. But seriously man," Hutch eased into a good stretch, "are you coming?"

König drummed his fingers on his thigh as he felt his heart rate relax. He turned his head from side to side and then said, "Why not. I don't have anything else to do."

"Then I guess we got you on a good day," Hutch smiled.

"'We'? I thought this was a Horangi thing," König glanced over at his friend.

"Well, I gave Horangi the idea, but he was the one who really made it happen," Hutch explained, "I was hoping we might schedule something for next week or whatever, but Horangi's too impulsive to wait."

"Strange. When we were out in Iraq I saw him line up a shot for three hours," König shook his head, "but that man works in weird ways. I don't think I'll ever understand him."

"Funny, 'cause he says the same things about you," Hutch commented.

König was about to say something when his timer went off.

"Another rep, big guy?"

König nodded and picked up the dumbbell again, "Always another."

20 :00 - Two Hours Until the Ban

"Oh my God this is so good."

"See? I told you it would be."

"Okay but I saw you flicking mould off a peach last week," Horangi rolled his eyes as he stuffed another forkful of shwarma in his mouth, "your definition of 'good' is fucked."

König bristled as Hutch and Aksel laughed quietly behind him. He glared at the two, but it only served to worse Aksel's giggling.

"It was just a tiny bit," he explained.

"It was not a tiny bit," Aksel snickered, "that was the peach that Stiletto forgot in her locker."

König paled, "Was it really?"

"Yeah?" Aksel shook his head mirthfully, "I mean, it was set out on the counter for a reason."

"I thought..." König trailed off as he turned to glare at his hands.

"Whatever you thought," Hutch interjected, "it was just stupid. Like come on man, it was smellin' and everything!"

König wrinkled his nose, "I don't think it smelled that bad."

"You know you nearly gave Stiletto a heart attack," Horangi added on.

König smiled beneath his hood, "Well, I suppose I'll have to tell her I'm sorry."

"Oh cut the crap," Horangi gruffed, "you just wish you saw her face too."

König nodded from side to side as the others laughed.

It wasn't often that the men could get off base for a bit, but by pulling König's rank card (Horangi swore that wasn't the reason he was invited) and explaining a few things away, they managed to be able to get some time out to look around and enjoy the city. It took about an hour to drive to the shwarma shop, but at least it seemed to be a hit with the whole team. König was glad to at least provide something to the trip. He hated to admit it, but even then he was anxious about appearing good enough for his team.

"So," Horangi put his plastic fork down, "In about fifteen minutes, what do you guys think about heading out to the haunt?"

"Fine by me," Aksel nodded as Hutch swallowed a bite of his wrap, nodding in agreement.

"Alright. König? You cool with that?" Horangi turned to look at the tall Austrian.

"Should be fine," König nodded, "I mean, it might be a bit late, but..."

"We'll be fine," Hutch shut him down quickly, "don't worry about it man."

"I mean, it's just it's a long drive, and-"

"König! If the numbers guy says it'll be fine, then it'll be fine," Aksel sighed.

Horangi patted his shoulder, "Trust us. It'll be fine."

König sighed and relaxed into the seat. He didn't trust them, not in the slightest, but the least he could do was pretend.

21:00 - One Hour Until the Ban

The group of four man stood outside the farmhouse, looking up and down at the dilapidated building. Fog rolled from the windows with winding screams into the night. Occasionally, a bright red flash would come from the top left window. Cheap cobwebs were woven over the ground, littered with tiny plastic spiders that glowed in the green light coming from the front porch.

"You gettin' scared at all?" Horangi grinned as he looked between the others.

"Pft, it looks cheap," Aksel crossed his arms, "saw way better when I was a kid."

"I think that's positivity bias there, Aksel," König muttered, earning himself a short nod from Hutch.

"I think we might've wasted our time honestly," Hutch frowned as he gave the building another once-over.

"Oh come on," Horangi groaned, "we haven't even been inside. It might be a lot of fun!"

"Fun?" Askel shook his head and tutted condescendingly, "in this place? I doubt it."

Hutch glared at the offending building behind a pair of sunglasses.

"The website made it look so much better," Hutch complained bitterly as he squared his shoulders back.

Watching Horangi's face fall, König couldn't help but kick himself for being so negative to the place. Without another word, he put a hand on Horangi's shoulder and cocked his head to the side.

"Maybe it might be better on the inside, don't you think?" he offered his friend.

Horangi smiled back brightly, "See! König has the right idea!"

König shrivelled under the judgmental glare of the others. He hated how they looked almost disappointing in him for trying to stand up for Horangi. Really, even if the haunt was just for kids, what was the harm in having fun with it?

"Well hey, they say there's only groups of two here," Horangi pointed at a poorly painted sign, "so I'll go with König and you two buzzkills go with each other."

Aksel rolled his eyes, but threw an arm around the taller man to his left, "Alright, looks like we're together."

"Get your arm off of me," Hutch grumbled.

Not keen to be dragged down by the others, König decided to follow Horangi to the front steps of the home.

Strangely, as König drew closer, he couldn't help but feel that age-old familiar tingle in his chest. Something about the house set him on edge. He didn't want to admit it, but the house certainly unnerved him. He had the feeling something horribly dreadful waited for him inside.

"You know, now that the other two are gone, I'm really digging the vibes here," Horangi elbowed König lightly.

"Ja," König replied stiffly, "it is different without them."

Horangi looked up at his friend skeptically. After observing him carefully, a sly smile slid across Horangi's face.

"Getting a bit spooked, big guy?" Horangi asked.

König snorted, "No, of course not."

"Sure," Horangi drawled, "whatever you say."

König turned to glare, but they were already being called up.

As he stepped up to the ticket taker, he noticed the man turning to an actor and whispering. He tried to ignore how they both seemed to focus more on him than Horangi before the smaller scare actor was shooed off.

As they walked into the house, Horangi worsened his fears when he blithely commented, "They really seemed to be looking at you back there. I wonder why."

König felt positively dreadful.

21:30 - Half an Hour Until the Ban

König looked around him nervously. About five minutes ago, Horangi had disappeared from his side. He could hardly believe it. One minute Horangi was chatting away and the next he was gone. He didn't even really know when he lost the man, he'd long-since tuned out his rambling. Now, he wished he were paying more attention.

Now that he was alone, König couldn't help but notice all the sounds more. The screams pressed on his ears as the rattling of chains snaked through his feet. Sometimes he swore he heard someone panting in his ear, but when he turned there was only the low green light guiding him forwards.

With each step he took, he felt like he was passing through thick webs. Occasionally, thick tarps would block his vision and he'd have to push forward. He tried his best to not let his heart rate spike, but something had him on edge.

A part of him was kicking himself for being in any way, shape or form affected by the house. It was just a haunted house, it was all fake. He'd seen real horror, so why did this get to him? What was it that had his skin crawling?

He didn't know but it just kept getting worse.

König pushed past a curtain of rusted chains to enter what looked like the remnants of a kitchen. In the strobing red lights, he could see blood splatters cake the walls. The shine of metal on the walls clued him in to the knives wallpapering the room. His knees felt weak when he finally noticed the centre of the room.

There, lying down strapped to the dining room, a woman watched him with bright white eyes.

König couldn't help himself as he dashed into the next room.

Those eyes, bright white, staring directly at him, they petrified him like no other. He felt them boring into him, even as he left. He spared a glance behind him and nearly collapsed when he saw the woman turn her head 180 degrees to follow him.

He slammed the next door shut behind him, swallowing him in darkness.

21:45 - Fifteen Minutes Until the Ban

König panted as he slumped against the door. He held his chest tightly, welcoming the darkness around him. Finally he could get away from those eyes. In this darkness, nobody could ever see him.

König closed his eyes and sighed.

When he opened them, a small candle lit the room, revealing the contents to him for the first time.

When he looked around, he wanted to scream.

Mirrors. There were mirrors everywhere. Some as big as him, some smaller than his thumbnail. Ton and tons of mirrors all glinting back at him.

He could see his form slowly distorting in the candlelight. Old memories rushed through him and he trampled forth, knocking down a couple of mirrors in the process and shattering them on the ground.

21:50 - Ten minutes Until the Ban

König ran until he collided into a wall and stumbled back. Now in the low red lights he could see everything around him.

From the room of mirrors he'd walked into a small pioneer classroom. To his horror, every single pair of eyes was on him. He tried walking one way, and the 'students' turned their heads. He walked the other way and they followed him. He glanced around in widening horror as he realized the only exit was at the back of the room.

Without another thought, he pushed forth.

21:55 - Five Minutes Until the Ban

König didn't know why he ever agreed to come here. This place was nothing but a house of torture. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to do anything he could to escape. Any exit he saw only took him further and further into the maze.

How was a small farmhouse so big? It felt endless in here. Each turn brought him new horrors, new eyes staring at him. He tried to get away, but he could feel their eyes on him constantly, watching him run, watching him stumble, watching him as he desperately tried to find an escape.

He barely took in his surroundings as he charged through the building. He could hear something being shouted, could hear footsteps crashing down behind him but he just kept pushing forth. He needed to do anything he could to get away. He could feel his throat tightening and his heart pounding as he ripped down a curtain to get by.

He stumbled through into another black room and felt himself shut down.

21:58 - Two Minutes Until the Ban

The room was silent. Nothing from the outside came in. It was cold, terribly cold. Never had he been so cold. Why was he so cold?

He heard a door unlock, and footsteps step in.

21:59 - One Minute Until the Ban

"Uh, hello?" he heard a quiet voice, "um, is anyone in here?"

A bright flashlight turned on in his face, momentarily blinding him.

König didn't think as he punched into the light. He only heard a squawk and a curse as the light dropped down to the ground. He stumbled back and all the lights turned on.

22:00 - THE BAN

"Dude!" he looked down to find a straggly teen.

"Shit he got Johann," a woman yelled out.

"I told you this was a bad idea," a man grunted as he stepped forth and hauled the teen up to his feet. He gave König a sharp glare and jabbed a finger in his direction.

"Me?" König could feel the panic draining from his system.

"You! Go follow her and get out of here," the man yelled.

König didn't need to be told twice. He quickly found the tiny purple-haired woman and scurried to her side. She eyed him with disgust.

"Seriously dude, that wasn't cool," she sighed, "like, I know we're an extreme haunt, but you can't punch the actors. That's like, the number one rule here."

"Ah, sorry," König muttered weakly.

"Your friend is outside waiting for you," she grumbled as she led him through the back, "I told the guys not to push you too far, but they just wanted to scare the big guy and I guess they went too far. Still," she opened the final door, "you're banned from the haunt. Permanently."

"Why?" König asked meekly as he stepped by.

"You punched the actors dude," she glared at him, "number. One. Rule."

With that she slammed the door in his face, leaving him to join Horangi outside.

Horangi only had to take one look at his friend to figure out what had happened.

"You punched an actor?" he crossed his arms over his chest, "that's like, the number one rule."

"I panicked," König explained weakly.

"You? You panicked?" Horangi frowned, "what the hell did they do to you?"

König shook his head as he leaned over, "Eyes. So many eyes."

"Eyes?"

"And mirrors."

"And mirrors!? König, what sorta haunt did you go to?" Horangi quizzed him, "I just got led around a haunted barnyard!"

"After they split us up," König sucked in another breath, "it was... I didn't think that it would be that bad." Horangi scrunched his eyebrows together, but thankfully only clapped a hand on his back and helped push his friend forward, "Alright, well, I saw some sorta candy place. Looked like dragonsbreath, so I wanted to check it out. Wanna come with?"

König wheezed.

"I'll take that as a yes," Horangi shrugged and dragged König over to the cotton candy vendor.

Konig Dump

Konig Regular Fanfics

[braxlrose]

Hello! I really like your writing and I was wondering if I could request a bill x reader? It's where reader had a very rough childhood, with parents and stuff so they dont have a really good picture of love and gets confused about little nice things Bill does for them, like comforting and just being a good boyfriend, and can sometimes be like emotionally unavailable? But they really try with Bill and, yeah! Lmao, you don't have to do this and feel free to ignore!

omggg you're literally one of my favorite writers and I love this request because I really like writing angst bc there's so much emotion so ty <3

Also this is not proof read

cw: mentions of abuse (physical and verbal), angst, tell me if I missed anything pls!

Growing up was hard for you. Your father was barely ever around and when he was, he was completely hammered. You tried to stay away from him when he was like that, but it was hard considering you lived in the same house and he was always getting fired from jobs. Whenever you angered him, he'd take off his belt and beat you until you were sobbing. Then would pass out on the couch and act like nothing was wrong when he woke up.

On the other hand, your mother just never seemed to be happy with you. Always nit-picking on everything you did, the way you looked, the way you did your hair, your style, the way you talked, you were either too skinny or too fat; you just couldn't do anything right in her eyes.

You always tried your best to make them happy, just having the smallest glimmer of hope that they'd be proud of you for something. All your hard work at school or everything you did for your community. All the diets you went on for your mother. Cleaning up after your father. There was just nothing you could do.

You didn't understand why they were like this. Why did they have a child in the first place if all you did was "ruin their lives". You didn't understand love at all. Your mother said that she only does this because she cares about you, but if she cared wouldn't she want you to be yourself? No, of course not. You're either like her, or nothing. And that was that.

***

Then you moved to Magdeburg, Germany. Your mother was sick of her old apartment and your father was banned from all the alcohol stores in your town, so you had to move. Again. This wasn't the first time. You've moved 4 times in the past year because of your parents, you haven't lived anywhere long enough to make any friends.

You had moved into a small village and your mother was making you go over to the neighbour's for dinner. Your father was passed out somewhere so it was just you and her. She put your hair in a high ponytail and added "cute little pink bows". She always pulled too hard on your hair when she did it. You weren't allowed to leave the house unless you put on the pink, frilly dress she got you. You had to be "perfect" and "lady-like" or else no one would like you.

You slipped on your shoes and got pushed out the door by your mother. She had also plastered your face in makeup. Mascara, eyeshadow, lipgloss, all of that. You were fifteen years old for God sakes, why did she care so much?!

"You better not make me look bad in front of our new neighbour's, got it? I don't need your running your mouth like always." You nodded your head as she smacked the back of it, making you flinch before knocking on the door. You heard footsteps coming quickly to the door before a blonde woman opened up. A smile crept onto her face as she saw us.

(Its changing from third person to first person now!)

"Oh come in! Come in!" She said to us with a big smile on her face, ushering us in. My mother pushed me into the house, with a smile. The woman in front of us leaned down and waved, "Hi! You must be y/n! It's so nice to meet you!" I froze. What was I supposed to say? What if she got mad at my tone? What if I said something wrong? What if- I looked up as my mother nudged me on the arm, glaring into my eyes. don't be rude. she didn't even have to say anything for me to understand.

"Nice to meet you too!" I said to her, trying to smile but it just ended looking uncomfortable and awkward. She stood back up to her normal height and turned around, waving us towards the living room.

"Boys! Come down here to meet our new neighbours!" The woman shouted up the stairs as me and my mother sat down on the couch. She swatted my arm again.

"Stand up straight. Your going to make me look like a bad mother!" She whispered to me, giving me that icy cold glare she can never seem to get rid of whenever she looks at me.

Just then, two boys came stumbling down the stairs. They were obviously twins but looked very different from eachother. I turned my body back around when I heard then coming into the living room. I straightened out my back and looked at them with wide eyes.

"Woah, a girl." The mophead whispered. Tch, mophead. That's what he looked like. His dreads were all over the place.

"This is Mrs. y/l/n and y/n. They moved here today. Why don't you boys show y/n around the house?" They both nodded and smiled at me. This is where it all began. My friendship with Tom and Bill Kaulitz. It's been about 4 months since then and we all became good friends really quickly.

***

Me and Bill were walking through the park while tom was out doing God-knows-what. It was December already, so it had gotten really cold. We walked on some trails before Bill stopped us.

"What are you doing?" I asked, as he bent down on his feet.

"Tying your boots. You're gonna trip on them." My eyes widened as he leaned down. I'm just a fucking idiot I didn't even notice my shoelaces were untied. Who the fuck doesn't know that? Why didn't I realize? Am I actually that stupid? I could hear my mother's voice pounding in my head.

"Oh no! You don't have to do that, it's fine really! I'm just stupid, it's f-" he covered my mouth as he got it.

"Relax, I'm already done and I don't mind. Wouldn't want my favorite neighbour to fall face first into snow." He laughed and kept walking. Why'd he do that? He should've just told me to do it on my own, right? I don't need anybody to do anything for me. He should've just left it alone! What the fuck is wrong with hi-

"Hey are you thirsty?" What? What was he saying? I looked over at him when he stopped. We were back in town now, I hadn't even noticed.

"Hello?" He waved his hand in front of my face.

"Uhm..what?" I asked with a blank expression on my face. What was he saying? Why was he even asking me instead of just telling me? Isn't that easier?

"I said are you thirsty? There's a place just down the road that sells the best hot chocolate, you'll love it!" He said, grabbing my hand to bring me down the road. He wanted to get me hot chocolate?

"I don't have any money, Bill." He looked back at me and laughed.

"I'm buying, dummy. Why would I offer you something and then make you buy it? I'm not that awful." He joked, keeping my hand firmly in his. What. He wants to buy me something?

"You don't need to do that bill. I don't want to be a burden-" I sputtered out, not wanting him to do something he'd regret before he interrupted me.

"Burden?! You?" He stopped walking again and pulled me closer. Our faces were only a couple inches apart now and my hands were in his. "Y/n, you're my girlfriend. If I wanna buy my girlfriend a hot chocolate I'm gonna buy my girlfriend a hot chocolate, 'kay?" I was stunned. I don't understand why he's like this. He's too nice, people are gonna take advantage of that. Nevertheless, I nodded and walked down to where they were selling hot chocolate. Bill made sure to put extra marshmallows on mine. Why was he treating me like this?

We arrived back at his house and he pulled me down onto his bed with him.

"Jesus christ! Your hands are freezing, why didn't you say something." My hands? I guess they're cold. I hadn't noticed. Maybe they had gone numb half way through and that's why. Why did Bill care, they'd warm back up with time.

"It's no big deal Bill, I'll survive.." his eyes went wide like I had two heads.

"Are you insane?! No way!" He grabbed my hands and pulled me closer to him. He rubbed his hands onto mine and wrapped mine tightly in his. "Can't have your fingers falling off. I need someone's hand to hold." I smiled at me and wrapped the blanket around me. I laid my head down on his pillow and closed my eyes. My life wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to have a perfect boyfriend who gets me hot chocolate or warms up my hands for me. I don't deserve this. You don't deserve this. She was back again. She's always there. My mother sitting in the back of my head like there's a throne waiting there for her. Why were her words stuck in me like glue. I'm sick of her constantly belittling me like I'm nothing. But I am. I am nothing. Nothing at all. Just a useless soul that needed to fill an empty body and nothing mor-

"Y/n! Wake up! Are you okay?" Huh..? What was happening? I turned my head and looked outside. It was pitch black out. Had I fallen asleep? I turned back to bill and he looked like he was on the verge of tears. He had shaken me awake from my slumber. "Are. You. Okay?" He asked again, "you were mumbling and crying in your sleep. Did you have a bad dream?" I was crying? My finger tips reached up towards my cheeks. They were wet. I guess I was crying.

"I'm fine, bill. It was nothing." I mumbled and laid back down. His mouth was slightly agape as he crawled closer to me and engulfed me into a hug. He laid kisses all over my face. Why? Why does he care?

"You're not fine, and it's okay to be not fine! Just tell me what's wrong and let me help you!" He said to me as both of his hands caressed my cheeks. Help..me? Like I'm some charity case that needs fixing? I didn't need to be fixed. Yeah maybe I'm not perfect to my mother and maybe I have some fucked up issues but I don't need to be fixed. What the fuck was his problem?! Doesn't he understand I'm perfectly fucking fine!

"I said, I'm fine!" I shouted at him, shoving bill away from me and pushing myself off the bed. I'm perfectly fine and I don't need him telling me what's wrong with me. His head hit the wall by his bed and I could hear a crack. I broke his wall. I don't care. That's his fault. He should've backed off.

I heard him calling out my name along with a couple cries in between. I pulled on my shoes and stormed out the door. I don't need him or anybody or anything! I don't need him treating me like I'm some child who can't control her emotions!

That was 2 weeks ago. I hadn't spoken or even looked at him in two weeks. What was wrong with me? I hurt the only boy who's ever loved me. He probably hates me now. I'm the worst girlfriend in the entire world. Im the stupidest person. You're the most dumb, ugly, disgusting daughter who has ever been seen on this earth.

she's back.

I'm fucked up in the head and I don't know how to fix it. I want to blame my mother and father but it's not their fault, right? They care about me. It's my fault I'm like this. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but I have no one to blame but myself...right?

I was stuck sitting down in a chair while my mother poured goopy foundation onto my skin. We had to go to some classy town thing and I had to actually "look like a girl".

"Maybe if you were naturally beautiful I wouldn't have to waste my time doing this."

"Sorry mama..it's not my fault though..." She glared down at me and smacked the back of my head.

"You're lucky you have foundation on or I would've smacked the shit out of this disgusting face." She gritted between her teeth. Her words were like an awful, greasy poison dripping from her tongue. I hadn't done anything and some how I had made her mad again.

She shoved me into a long, cream colored dress and turned on the ignition. I leaned my head against the side of the door as we drove. Why couldn't I just be the normal, beautiful daughter my mother wanted? If there was a God, he had some serious explaining to do.

"Stop slouching! You think I want a daughter with bad posture?! My god! Can't you do anything right?" The speech. I've heard it a million times since I learned how to talk. How I can't do anything right and I'm just some failure who should've been aborted fifteen years ago. How I ruined my mother's life and how she was going to be a star if it wasn't for me.

It was a long car ride but we finally got there. And the event was even worse. There were so many people and the music was way to loud. I felt like crying. My hands were shaking and I couldn't stop picking at my nails. Women kept coming up and taking to me with their children. Friends of my mothers. I could guess by their judging stares. I looked lady-like and had good posture and was smiling. Why was I being judged, what am I doing wrong again? Why can't I just be normal? A normal girl who doesn't fuck everything up. Doesn't make her parents hate her. Doesn't ruin her parents lives. Doesn't make people feel awkward. Doesn't hurt their boyfriends.

And that was my breaking point. Tears flooded down my cheeks and everybody was staring at me. I stumbled away into another room and sobbed on the floor. I couldn't breathe. My hands hurt from picking at my nails and my face hurt and my body hurt and my eyes were burning and my makeup was surely ruined.

Everything is. I always ruin everything. What the fuck is wrong with me?! The one person who truly cared about me...i..I haven't- I hiccups against the wall and bawled my eyes out. The one person who truly, actually cared about me...I haven't talked to him in two weeks. Then I caught my breath. I stood up and wobbled to the nearest window. I pulled myself out of it and stumbled outside. My whole body hurt so I probably ooked crazy. I could feel mascara was running down my cheeks as I walked through the town.

My arms were freezing cold and I still felt like everybody was watching me. Their beady and judgy eyes staring me down like I was about to go crazy. Well, I guess technically they were right. I just started sobbing in front of everybody so I probably did look insane. You looked insane! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Can't you just act like a girl for once!? That's what my mother said me to in the 3rd grade after a play we did..

I finally got back to my house and looked up to the neighbour's house. Bills house. The light was on in his bedroom. He was awake. I turned back to my door and took a deep breath. I had to say something to him. Right? I had to make him believe I wasn't some crazy person who would push everybody away. Maybe that's what I was though..

I knocked on the door but nobody answered, so I stepped into their house. It was completely dark as I stumbled up the stairs to bills room. I looked at all the happy family pictures they had. God they were so lucky. So lucky to have a perfect family. A father and mother who love them. Having a twin must be great, it's like having a bestfriend for life, right?

As I stepped up the stairs I heard the door open. Bill must've heard me coming up. When he slowly looked around the corner I saw his eyes widen at my awful state. I guess I should've cleaned myself up first, I look a mess. My dress was torn from crawling out the window and my makeup was obviously smeared. I bet my hair wasn't too pretty either.

"Holy shit, y/n?!" He came down the stairs quickly and grabbed my arms, helping me up the stairs, "what happened?! You look...awful."

He sat me down on his bed and I didn't know what to say. I just stared at him. This perfect guy who loves me. I tried to open my mouth and say something but nothing came out. I guess he could tell I wasn't sure what to say because he went to the bathroom and grabbed some wipes.

"Here.." he kneeled down and began to wipe my makeup off. Tears slipped past my waterline as he comforted me. He just sat there looking up at me with a pity smile on his face as he cleaned me up. He took of my hands in his other hand and held it. He really was perfect. He saw him grab some lotion off his desk and rub it around my face after he wiped everything off.

"Come on, why don't we get you into some comfortable clothes okay?" I nodded at him and toyed with my fingers as he picked out some clothes.

I was laying in his arms now. His fingers were combing though my hair as I laid on his chest. I wasn't sure why he was doing this. Any sane person would've just kicked me out, right? I held onto bill tighter whenever he kissed my head and my cheeks. I cuddled up closer to him and nuzzled into his neck.

"I love you, y/n.." bill whispered as I dosed off into my sleep, breathing in his comforting scent and letting tears fall on his skin because he was the only person who was able to make me feel at home.

OKAY THIS TOOK ME LIKE 2 HOURS AND IT ALMOST GOT DELETED BUT THANK GOD IT DIDNT, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!!

the end felt kinda rushed but I hope it was still good

taglist: @hearts4kaulitz @burntb4bydoll @spelaelamela @bored0writer @fishinaband @billsleftnutt @dead-tapes @tokiiohot @bluepoptartwithsprinkles @saumspam

[milaisreading]

Hello, is possible for you to make fanfic in which ego makes y/n change teams to manage for like 1-3 week?

(So sorry if it’s difficult to understand, English isn’t really my first language)

Author: ofc! Thank u for requesting, it really makes me feel happy that u all are interested in the series so much 💗 💖 hope u enjoy this🩷

Warnings ⚠️: nothing really. Reader uses she /her and there is mention of Bastard München (manga spoilers). Requests are open! Also, if u all are interested I will write a pt 2 to this request from the Reader's perspective and her stay in Germany

⚽️Blue lock belongs to: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

The Blue Lock team was watching in curiosity as (Y/n) kept talking and showing things to an older staff member. The team was a little farther away, so they weren't able to make out what (Y/n) was saying, but all they knew it must have been important, as the girl had an unusually serious face and the man tried to write down every word she was saying.

"Ahhh~ (Y/n) looks so cute when she is explaining things." Reo sighed, dreamily watching the girl as Otoya and Gagamaru nodded their heads in agreement.

"Her eyes shine a special way when she is all serious." Gagamaru added.

"I honestly wish we went together to school, would have loved to have her as my tutor." Otoya said.

"I would have failed all my classes for that then." Bachira chuckled as the others started adding their own thoughts. Rin and Baro were the only ones who didn't say anything, too immersed in their own thoughts.

'Who is that guy? Is he here to write down some inventory or?' Rin raised an eyebrow and looked over at Baro, who had a similar expression.

"You think this off too?"

"Yeah. It's also weird how much more often Ego-san has been calling (Y/n) into the office. Teieri-san seemed a little upset these past few days too." Baro said as they watched (Y/n) say goodbye to the man and walk over to the group.

"Did something happen? You guys don't usually stop training unless Ego-san tells you to." The girl wondered as she sat down between Isagi and Kunigami.

"We were just wondering who the man was. He has been coming over often these past few days." Nagi said, not looking up from his video game. That earned him a small scolding from Reo and Yukimiya, but it was left ignored by him.

"Oh, that's Suzuki-san. He is a very sweet staff member, he will be my substitute for the next 3 weeks."

"Oh, that's good." Chigiri said as Niko nodded his head in agreement. There was a short silence, until (Y/n)'s words fully sank in and they all looked at her in horror.

"Substitute?! What do you mean by 3 weeks?!" Nagi and Karasu yelled as Bachira jumped in front of her.

"Where are you going for 3 weeks?! We won't be able to survive here without you!" Hiori yelled as (Y/n) got over the initial shock and rolled her eyes.

"Now you are being dramatic, it's just 3 weeks, and Suzuki-san is more than enough capable for the job."

"Where are you even going? On a break?" Kurona was the next one to speak up, trying to hide his disappointment.

"Ego-san got a request from Noel-san to help out the Bastard München for the next 3 weeks, since their manager seemed to have had an accident or something..."  (Y/n) explained as Kunigami and Isagi grew stiff at the mention of the German team.

"What?! Why them?! (Y/n), you can't go there alone!" Isagi argued, dreading the fact that his manager will now be shared with Kaiser. Kaiser of all people!

"Why not? Except for some of them being obnoxious, they seem like a solid team. And based on what Ego-san told me, Kaiser and Ness recommended me to Noel-san. As much as I don't get along with Kaiser, it is a huge thing to get a recommendation from him." (Y/n) explained truthfully.

"Not Ness... I completely forgot he was on the team..." Aryu whispered to Rin and Baro, the whole group remembering how (Y/n) eyed the payer when they visited the last time.

"Let's hope that creep lost interest in her and will treat her like anyone else."

Baro added, making sure that (Y/n) didn't hear them.

"Yeah, (Y/n) shouldn't be with someone like him... even my brother is a better option." Rin muttered.

"When are you leaving?" Reo suddenly asked, feeling his heart squeeze in pain as Nagi silently watched her, his game long abandoned.

"This friday."

"Oh..." Was the only thing that came out of Chigiri's mouth.

"Will we stay in contact tho?!" Niko suddenly asked, thankful that his eyes were hidden behind his hair.

"Of course! I am not abandoning Blue Lock, just helping out another team. Don't worry, we can talk everyday, as long as the timezones allow us."

Reo, Nagi and Kunigami let out sighs of relief as they heard she wasn't abandoning them.

"Wait Friday? So you are leaving in 2 days?" Gagamaru suddenly asked as he remembered that today was Wednesday.

"Yeah."

"This isn't good! We are spending the next two days hanging around! Forget the training!" Otoya said quickly, in the heat of the moment forgetting that Ego could hear them.

"If you don't start training again, I am sending (Y/n) to Germany tonight." Ego's voice came from the speakers. This triggered most to get up and resume what they did previously. Bachira, Isagi and Hiori stayed around for a while, using the excuse of needing more rest.

As Friday came the boys grew more and more nauseous, the thought of (Y/n) being alone in a different country scared them. But as fate will, the moment she had to leave came and the team was... less than pleased. Bachira tried to stop her by throwing some weird excuses of needing help, which were shut down by Ego calling Suzuki to help. Once she was gone, Ego and Anri went to look for the team, only to find them moody and depressed in their shared room.

"What are you all doing here? Training is still going." Ego sighed in annoyance as Anri sent them a sympathetic look.

"Do we have to? Today is a tragedy!" Bachira yelled as Aryu nodded his head.

"Yes, a national day of mourning."

The black-haired man blinked and narrowed his eyes at them.

"I don't care what today is! Get out and train, otherwise you all are out of Blue Lock." Groaning, the boys got up and slowly walked to their designated spot. Once everyone was gone, Anri let out a small sigh and looked at the agitated man.

"Don't be like that, you know how close they are with (Y/n). You yourself were pretty upset too when you approved of (Y/n) going."

"I do not know what you are talking about. That wasted talent can go wherever she wants, I wouldn't care." Ego coughed.

"You literally started googling and telling (Y/n) which places to avoid in Munich-"

"I don't want any issues with her parent."

Anri sighed, giving up on arguing and following after the man.

'It's kind of sweet how much of a soft spot he has for her.'

The 1st week for the Blue Lock team was... was quite a rollercoaster of emotions. The team went through nearly all the stages of grief, except for acceptance. Reo and Nagi were more snappy and snarky than usual. Baro was more aggressive on the field and no amount of warnings from Suzuki could stop him from starting arguments with Kunigami. The said orange-haired boy was way easier to provoke now and he was doing a lot more dirty tricks while playing. Isagi and Rin were less motivated to play and would argue way more than usually. Gagamaru was just standing next to the goal, not even bothering to keep up with the team. Niko was way more moodier and less willing to get out of bed, only when Ego starts threatening him does he do that. Chigiri and Aryu missed (Y/n) and her braiding and playing with their hair. It always relaxed them after a long day of training. Karasu tried to keep up with his daily routines, but it was less fun when he knew there wasn't someone cheering him on. Yukimiya and Otoya were trying to keep the peace as much as possible, as they didn't want (Y/n) to hear any of this. And Bachira... well he was just there, he was playing but less enthusiastically. Hiori was more moodier and Kurona shut himself completely off. The only time they really were their normal selves was when they texted or called (Y/n), which wasn't as much as they wished.

Ego was slowly losing his mind as well, since he couldn't take Suzuki's complaining any longer, so that's why Anri started listening to him and writing everything down.

'Two more weeks...' The black-haired man sighed.

'Hope that brat is at least having fun.' Ego smiled a little, which was hidden by his hand as Anri talked about some decisions the JFU made.

"V-vielen Dank." (Y/n) stuttered as she took her fries and joined Kaiser and Ness.

"Was that right?" She asked as the magenta-eyed boy smiled as usually and nodded his head, while Kaiser patted her back.

"Yep! On point, seems like I am a better tutor than you expected." Kaiser said smugly, and as much as (Y/n) hated it, he was right.

"Yeah you are... the fries here are very good!" The girl said as she bit into her food.

"Told you these food stands have better quality than any restaurant in Munich. Now let's go, we got to show you the most popular bar here. They have non-alcoholic drinks too." Ness said softly as (Y/n)'s phone went off. Kaiser and he raised an eyebrow as she quickly typed something back and put the phone away.

"Your phone has been going off a lot in the past hour." Kaiser remarked.

"Yeah, during this time the boys usually finish off with their training, so we text a lot then."

"Oh." Was the response that came from Ness and Kaiser hid a irritated look.

2nd week was a bit....a bit better,at least Suzuki was telling it to himself. While the boys were more willing to listen to him and commit to training, it was like some soulless people were playing the whole time. Gagamaru for example was more willing to avoid the ball flying past him, but there wasn't the same amount of euphoria he usually had. Bachira kept on saying how his monster didn't like this anymore, Chigiri wasn't in his usual speedster mood. Isagi and Rin were arguing less and were just doing their own things on the opposite sides of the stadium. Reo would mop around in the shared bedroom along with Baro after training, and Nagi was just sleeping. Sleep helped him escape this hellhole for now. Karasu was somewhat back in his usual shape after he would reread the compliments (Y/n) had sent him. Yukimiya and Otoya's guards were less on now, as the group was getting less wild and Niko, Hiori and Kurona were just training together, often exchanging what they missed about (Y/n).

"Great job you two! The fans will surely enjoy the game in two weeks!" (Y/n) told Ness and Kaiser as they were leaving the training grounds of the club.

"And you can't stay a week longer? Getting you a VIP pass won't be hard if you decide to stay." Ness said, a little sad that they only had a week with the girl left.

"Sorry, I have my own team to return to and your manager probably misses his work, too." (Y/n) said, a little sad that she has to leave the country soon, as she did grow attached to the duo. But she was very happy to go home to her team, she missed the chaos they cause at times.

"Well, if you do decide to stay, it won't be hard to find an arrangement. Just tell Ness or I." Kasier added, hoping that she might agree eventually.

And finally, finally the end of the 3rd week came and the boys were in their old form as it dawned on them that (Y/n) will be back soon! Ego was happy that the boys were back to their normal and was busy telling Chris off for a manager exchange.

'No way am I going through this mess again.' The man thought.

"(Y/N)!!" Bachira, Isagi and Hiori yelled as they hugged the girl as soon as she entered the building.

"We missed you!"

"Please don't leave like that again!"

"It was hell!"

"Ahh it was? I heard that Suzuki-san had everything under control though." (Y/n) said as Isagi helped her up and Bachira kept on hugging her.

"It's really not the same."

"Yeah, please never leave like that." Kurona and Isagi protested as Reo and Nagi ran to their side and hugging the girl.

"We missed you!"

"The new arrangement was such a drag."

"Lukewarms, move away."

"Hey, I want a hug too!"

"Welcome back, (Y/n). Never leave again."

The whole team was soon at the entrance, hugging the girl and saying how much they missed her.

"I missed you too guys! But I need to go and talk with Ego-san now-"

"No!"

"Come on, we will catch up in our room."

"Ego-san can wait."

As the group started dragging the girl away, Ego watched the interactions with amusement.

"Welcome back." He whispered, deciding to let some of the comments slide for now.

[thatdeadaquarius]

-vine boom

I probably sent a lot of these now im so sorry lmfao 😅

You mentioned in one of the asks that some countries are like a prototype/based of our existing countries, like Germany=Mondstadt, Liyue=China, Inzauma=Japan....

So even though the language is more or less identical for you to make heads and tails in a conversation or writing in a book, the reverse side does not.

Creator!Reader who knows a couple of languages (plus points if they're atleast fluent or have a understanding of it despite not being able to speak said language) and being born from a country that doesnt have the same language as the countries Teyvat based off. Basically Spanish, Italian, Filipino, Scandinavian languages that also have their own way of writing.

Imagine feeling homesick and the only thing that keeps you occupied is the notebook and pen you have while the others converse in a meeting or in a hangout. You started writing in your tongue and re-reading it to relive memories.

Zhongli, AlHaitham, Albedo, Jean, maybe the Berry bros too (Diluc & Kaeya) get curious only to have a double-take and immediately thinks that maybe there is a forgotten land in Teyvat that has this language, I mean Morax stayed faithful to Liyue and Barbatos blessed his country with abundance of supplies and freedom. Teyvat gods and archons played favourites, so why wouldn't you as well? (Bonus: Khaenriah flashbacks) (also I know these arent enough characters but how should I know? I only have a handful of them and I ran out of Primos😭

The people from Akademiya though? I mean they went hard on theorizing and picking apart the language of their creator. Have you seen Matpat's descent to insanity the more FNAF continues to push out LoRe? Thats basically them because Teyvat doesn't have a country based on Creator's birth country. They're grasping nothing but air and dead ends and the only lead they have is you, but couldnt ask because you look so down and they cant bear to see Creator sad....

(NEW BANNER TOMORROW AND I DONT HAVE ENOGH PRIMOGEMS HALP---)

Rip Vine boom no primos 🙏 hope u got some more by this time bc i was so late to reply lol - DUDE IM SO READY FOR THE GORG KAVEH <333

BERRY BROS!! Thats it, thats the only way im gonna refer to them now.

Not super long to add onto ur bc UR SO SMART AND SUCH A GOOD WRITER VINEBOOM U SHOULD ALSO WRITE STUFF SO I CAN GO OBSESS OVER UR WRITING WITH A MILLION FERAL COMMENTS-!!!

(Cute owl house gif is like, metaphorially u and zhongli in this lol)

EDIT 8/23/23: So this may be inaccurate/not that good to my Hispanic Readers out there! Sorry about that, I'l make sure to do better in the future.

EDIT 1/1/24: Unfortunately there are even more issues here, and I'm really sorry about that. I expanded on it more in my Eldritch fanfic post in Part 2, but it was exoticism of me to use the word "Huangdi". I have since replaced it with "Emperor", and don't intend to just erase the mistake like it never happened. But I did change it in the headcanons for better readability. Again, I'm genuninely sorry about this, and will absolutely be watching out/doing better in the future. I hope you understand.

THIS SOUNDS SO SAD, LIKE THIS COULD DEF BE ANGST, ESP SINCE U HAVE NO FAMILIAR-ISH CULTURE TO TURN TO-

tbh im american and i def dont think theres a u.s. country- oh god at least I hope not, damn but im also familiar with mexican culture so i wouldnt miss the united states, but id miss mexican culture…

BUT!!

You have a lot of amazing people who care about you in Teyvat, so they won’t let you stew in ur homesickness for long

like random said, i could see it being small stuff

ok so imma just-

LATINO! READER TIME BABBYYYYY

(i do this bc its just the culture/language im more familiar with, but dont let that discourage anyone from requesting other cultures! I will def do my research, or ur welcome to tell me all about it so i can write it better! <3)

THAT BEING SAID IM MOSTLY WHITE PLS LMK IF SHIT IS WRONG/SPANISH IS WRONG BC IM STILL A BEGINNER MY BELOVED LATINES!

<3 YOU GUYS

♡

you’ve been in the game-turned-life world of Genshin Impact for nearly 6 months now, turns out time isnt wonky as hell like it is if you were playing the game, half bc u bribed Albedo with answers to his many questions about you if he figured out the time difference, and half bc of ur internal clock

people would notice the cuss words first lmao

like Xiao hearing u stubbing ur toe on the million and one steps up to Wangshu Inn, hijueputa!

or Keqing pointing out the words you coo at the dogs hanging out by the bridge outside the harbor,

un perrito tan buenoooo!! :’)

while most would just, " hmm, maybe a dialect of one of the other countries we havent heard…"

but Zhongli? he’s been ready for centuries in case the prophecy came true within his lifetime, afterall, many things changed while he’s been alive, not crazy to him that you might descend randomly

While everyone else was unprepared, bc u were like… the oldest deity, more legend than history, so ppl just thought Morax was a little overly faithful …so when it actually happened,, Morax was just smirking as he watched ur golden shooting star streak the night sky… while absolute pandemonium consumed the mortals and adepti in liyue lmao

(like that scene of Regina George in Mean Girls watching the student body break out into an all out brawl just smirking 😭 pls god look it up if u dont know what i mean- )

So Morax- Zhongli, has been ready for you, just in case, to pay attention to what kind of person you’d be, learn your favorite clothes/colors/offerings, see what things you’d like to talk about with him (hopefully for hours) etc.

He was observant, and with his memory, he practically gave himself headaches sometimes with how aware he was,

on one of those days he was overwhelmed by the mortal crowds, the smells, the market yelling, and all the change from what he thought he knew-

Zhongli noticed you in your own melancholy, and curious, he began to stroll just behind

You sit at Wanmin restaurant, still somber, and ask Xiangling to

“please try out these recipes? they’re from my world, and id really love to have something like them again..”

a true experimental chef as always, Xiangling quickly takes up your offer, and u follow her into the kitchens in the back (the restaurant is much more real than in game, they have gorgeous inside seating, all shades of red coloring the walls and lots of pretty latticework-)

Zhongli takes a seat finally, he has a usual table at this point he comes in so much coughtorunintoyoucough the staff know it's his and give him tea pretty quickly

the food, and the looks, makes it your favorite restaurant in Liyue, the Liuli Pavilion a little too fancy for casual dining, afterall, Zhongli would know

He’s tried to keep track of your favorite places to be in Liyue too, and kept his near full attention on what you say when he asks after your stays in Liyue (he hasn’t felt the need to pay that much attention or felt that much interest in conversation partners in… decades?)

So when you come out of the kitchen, throwing your head back and laughing, "Sí, sí! It all tastes so close Xiangling! Gracias, thank you!"

He wants… to know.

to know what those strange, but delicious looking, foods are all balanced on two big dinner plates

Xiangling carrying whatever you couldn’t just behind, a pitcher of white liquid, it smells, like cinnamon?

He raises a hand, and offers the extra seats at his table, (when did his tea go cold? he only just sat down, he couldn’t have spent that long thinking about you…)

You notice and look over, a giddy grin lighting up your face (…hmm, perhaps he needs to transform into his Exuvia form and let off some steam, his chest has warmed too much right now for him to just be sitting here…)

You plop into the seat beside him, but not before carefully placing the plates in front of both you and Zhongli

You scootch around until you’re turned towards him, as always, Zhongli looks… actually kind of, happy?

a small soft smile pulls at his lips, his eyes half-lidded as they meet yours, his usual red eyeliner framing his monolids perfectly, he looks like he’s been,, well, sculpted from stone, an artwork come to life

“…My Emperor? Could I trouble you to tell me about the dishes before us?”

the geo god’s pleasantly smooth and deep voice felt so soft asking you that, like he didn’t want to push you one direction or the other

“Oh! Right! Sorry, these are from my home country, back in my world, or at least, as close as Xiangling and I can get to them!”

Your smile brightens your face once more, clearing away any leftover stormclouds from your mood earlier, and as you launch into explaining (Xiangling had to get back to orders, so it’s just you two now)

You list it all, the quintessential: quesadillas, empanadas, tamales, chorizo (you had to combine at least 5 different spices to Mondstadt sausages to get anywhere close to the real thing) the dips obviously, salsa, queso, guacamole, and the easy street tacos, and finally the horchata, but also all the weird fruits Teyvat has with chile, like Sunsettias mixed with Harra from Sumeru or Lavender melons with Wolfhook berries… all surpringly pretty good

(the Sun-Harra combo tastes like mango, a sort of deeper taste of pineapple/kiwi and a sort of light orange taste? all with the nice addition of chile flavors, the Lavender melons and Wolfhooks helped imitate chamoy enough that your heart was satisfied)

…you realize you’ve just been talking about the last meal you had with your family/friends instead of the food after a bit, and Zhongli hasn’t said anything…

you trail off and look back over your shoulder (u were practically about to get your shirt in the imitation guac u were leaning so far over the table to point and talk)

you’re about to sheepishly apologize for taking over the conversation, and ask if he wants to try anything (Zhongli can handle spice so u dont have to worry abt that at least)

but as u finally see his face, u just stop, and dont end up saying anything

He’s just, looking at you.

his smile's not huge, but big enough to make his eyes look happy, and Zhongli’s just… looking at you.

You can’t describe the look he’s giving you, but you suddenly feel… a wave of shyness wash over your heart in your chest, because he’s looking almost like, maybe like, he’s sort of, waiting for you to keep talking, his tan skin warm in the golden rays of the sun beginning to set, you don’t know why you’re noticing any of these things, and he gently, slowly, makes a move to lean into your space a little

almost above your armrest, head inches from your shoulder, he finally moves to stop looking at you-

He looks like a painting as he looks down, his eyelashes almost sitting on his high cheekbones,

you have to move your head to looking at the table too as he moved so close,

you feel your shoulders reflexitively hitch upwards as you brushed the hair on the side of his head as you turned away

He looks around, and then moves his head, not his body, he’s still leaning toward you, to look you right in the eyes again

“Why did you stop? I haven’t said much, I apologize, but it’s only because I wanted to hear you without anything interrupting you.”

You cough a little strained, “Oh! Oh I get it now yeah, thanks-”

“I want to hear you more,” his black eyes begin to warm with gold, you can vaguely see the shape of his diamond pupil revealing itself, “I want to hear about… everything, if you’ll tell me? The language, the food, the drinks, your family, your dances, your country, I want to hear it all. Won’t you please let me hear your voice some more?”

♡

GOOOD LOOORDDDD, ITS SO LONGGGGG IM SO SORRRYYY 😭😭

OKAY IM MOSTLY SORRY THAT THIS SCENARIO HAPPENED??? IDK WHERE ZHONGLI CAME FROM- GOD IM SUBCONCIOUSLY IN LOVE WITH THAT MAN I GUESS, SORRY RANDOMANTICS-

uh, hope somebody got anything out of this, sorry abt the length, again,

also pls somebody tell me if what i said about culture/food was alright! If not I’ll def change it, pls dont let me keep it up if its inaccurate/wrong!!

Safe Travels you guys,

💀♒️

.°•.☆.•°.

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk

[rallamajoop]

The Baker Incident Report and the Resident Evil 7 Guidebook

While I’m talking obscure sources of RE7 lore, there's a couple more I’ve been poking through lately: the Baker Incident Report file (only available with the RE8 Trauma Pack DLC), and the BIOHAZARD 7 resident evil kaitaishinsho or RE7 guidebook (only available in Japanese, though some translations have made their way online).

I’m not the biggest fan of these kinds of ‘canon’ – fans shouldn’t have to go pouring through pages of DLC-exclusive-text-dumps or untranslated supplements to find out WTF was supposed to be going on – and both of these have other problems I’ll get into below. All that said, here's some of the more interesting new info they give us.

From the BIR, the Winters were moved to ‘Eastern Europe’, as witness protection from the Connections. That's still frustratingly unspecific, but more than we’re ever explicitly told in the game.

The lab that created Eveline is in Munich, Germany, per the BIR. This one does add up: close enough to Eastern Europe for Miranda to be involved, but not so close that it would necessarily ring alarm bells for Mia when the BSAA wanted to move them right to Miranda’s doorstep. Mia’s obviously been to the Munich lab, but presumably didn’t know exactly where the mould comes from (something redacted out even in their own reports). The guidebook also places the lab in Europe, but doesn't give a city. The BIR adds that the Connections are active in Eastern Europe, and we know they have facilities in Central America. Presumably there are offices in Texas too ‒ Mia can't be commuting cross continents to get to work every day.

Eveline was shipped to Central America due to an attempted raid by the BSAA, which is far more we learn from the "Orders" file from the game. The BIR goes so far as to imply that this botched operation was indirectly responsible for the whole Baker Incident, with Chris and his team leaving due to their frustration with the BSAA's attempts to cover the incident up. The guidebook, however, tells us Chris Redfield was actually the guy leading the team behind the failed raid. I assume we’re meant to take it that the mission failed because of an info leak, but I’m still amused by just how ineffectual this franchise keeps making Chris out to be.

Post RE7, Zoe is working as a reporter for a small paper in New Orleans. We don't know if she too went through witness protection but her name was listed among the dead at the Baker mansion.

Ethan is called a systems engineer in both the guide book and the BIR (this one does seem to have been spread around fandom more widely).

Eveline was created in the early 2000s, according to the guidebook. This one really doesn't add up for me: if the project started in 2000 and had already advanced through the A-E series by the early 2000s, why did it stagnate there for the next 10 years without further progress? Did Miranda leaving the project set it back so far? They can't have been waiting for Eveline to grow up, she can age 25x faster than usual, and is being deliberately maintained at the age of a 10yo girl. IDEK, I'd be inclined to ignore this one.

The guidebook states that Mia told people she worked for a "trading company," and was often away from home for work, something which had already strained the Winters’ marriage. I'd guess she told people she spent a lot of time accompanying shipments of goods when she was really smuggling materials or taking part in covert operations for the Connections.

The guidebook gives 2010 as the year she started working for the Connections (a year before her marriage to Ethan in 2011, though it doesn’t mention when they met, which may well have been 2010 or earlier). Mind you, this is also the one bit that randomly calls her "a researcher", so take it as you will (more on this below).

Of Mia's involvement with the project that created Eveline, it says only that the Connections' Special Agents Alan and Mia were assigned to transport Eveline to America. No real indication Mia was ever involved before then.

Of Mia's relationship to Eveline, it says that Mia "found Eveline creepy, but felt sympathy for her lonely situation." You and the rest of us, Mia.

Eveline forced Mia to lure Ethan to the Bakers' property in hope that adding Ethan to their family would make Mia more compliant, according to the guidebook. Eveline was especially fixated on Mia, having known her longer than the Bakers, and was frustrated with Mia's continued resistance to her control. Mia seems to have tried to keep Ethan's existence secret from Eveline to protect him, but somehow let it slip. All this is already implied in-game, of course, but it's nice to have it spelt out.

The Bakers feed people infected food because “oral and mucosal infections” are supposedly better for mould-powered mind-control. Ethan is obviously already infected AF well before their attempts to feed him 'dinner' (there's no way his severed hand would be usable otherwise), but IDK, maybe ingesting some extra mould would have made it easier for Eveline to control him? I'm sure a 10yo girl and a family of hillbillies do not have this down to an exact science, and I wouldn't even be surprised if feeding people mould was counter-productive somehow, given their success rate.

So why did none of those infected prisoners join Eveline's "family" alongside the Bakers? The guide book tells us simply that all were "deemed unfit" as family members, and were thus killed, and converted into molded instead.

We get official names for all the molded types we meet in the game (Moulded, Blade Moulded, Quick Moulded and Fat Moulded – pretty self-explanatory).

As a side-note, Ethan himself gets referred to as a ‘molded’ around this fandom a lot, which really isn’t correct. Ethan’s infected by the mold in the same manner as the Baker family, whereas ‘molded’ is a term coined to describe what amounts to mutamycete zombies (see above): the unintelligent, inhuman monsters that made up the generic enemy types of RE7, whose whole bodies are simply “superorganisms formed of countless mycelia.”

The guide book also implies that Jack’s final, mutated form reflects that he’s starting to become a moulded himself, which is a very interesting little detail.

Notes attached to concept art suggest that most moulded are created from dead bodies, covered by mould in bathtubs to convert them. Eveline is also seen spontaneously converting people to shapeless mould though, and clearly converted much of the ship’s crew into moulded-creatures in a very short time after her escape. It’s not super-consistent, but it is all horror-logic at its best (read: the rules are whatever will make this scene scarier).

There’s a bunch of additional stuff in the BIR naming the Connections’ founder as Brandon Bailey, someone who naturally has ties to Umbrella, blah, blah, blah ‒ I’m sure it all means more to fans of some of the older games. I can't pretend to have much interest in this part myself.

So with all that interesting info, what's my big problem with these sources? Well, for one thing, you don’t have to look far into the guidebook to find info that contradicts what we already know – and sometimes even itself. One page clearly describes Mia as a special agent working for the Connections ‒ a description that matches the wording used in the Orders document, and everything we see Mia doing in the game. But then another page randomly tells us Mia was hired as "a researcher" ‒ a description that matches nothing else we know about her (though it's an irritatingly common misconception, and this book may be the reason why). No-one's checking any of this stuff for consistency.

The guidebook also features such other gems as telling us Ethan currently lives and works in Los Angeles, when both Mia’s driver’s license and all geographical logic tell us they’re from Texas. Then there's that weird bit about Eveline being created in the early 2000s... and realistically, I can only assume a lot of what made it into the book may have come from earlier concept notes that were never updated as the story developed ‒ and if you read anything else on the production of this game, you'd know that concepts changed massively as development went on.

But more frustrating is everything the book doesn’t tell us. There isn’t a word said about the oh-so-mysterious "imprinting protocol" that Mia references in the game. How does it work? Is it, as the ending text spiel seems to imply, merely something that can be implemented in a hurry when Eveline needs to be transported across the globe? Can she be imprinted on more than one person at once? Has she ever been imprinted on anyone else? That seems likely, given that the lab’s in Munich while Mia lives in Texas (and if she's really been around since the early 2000s and Mia joined the company only in 2010, she logically must have been), but we don’t find out. Does Eveline get similarly obsessed with everyone she’s imprinted on, or is Mia special? Not a clue.

Since the guidebook was released in March 2017, long before the Not a Hero and End of Zoe DLCs, neither expansion is mentioned in the text. And since we don’t even learn the name ‘The Connections’ until the Not A Hero DLC, the group that created Eveline is referred to simply as the “mysterious organisation” (with quotes) whenever it comes up.

Nothing is said in the guidebook about the new incarnation of Umbrella which was so prominently involved at the end of RE7 either. Possibly, this too was to avoid spoilers for Not A Hero, which does at least give us some info on them – but then, the Baker Incident Report doesn’t mention the new Umbrella at all either, and it doesn’t have that excuse. That omission is all the stranger, considering that Zoe’s whole purpose in writing it is supposedly to expose the cover-up after the Baker Incident – doesn’t Umbrella factor into that at all? It’s like their whole role in RE7 has just wiped clean.

It's also obvious there was so much more lore written for this game that the guide book doesn’t share. Early versions of collectable documents that can still be found in the game files give the D-series head and arm some fascinating backstory, but there’s nothing about them in the guide book, which is a real shame.

Mia especially stands out as a character who must have so much backstory we never hear anything about. How did she get involved with a company as evil as the Connections? How did she justify it to herself for so long – what excuses did she make to herself? Did she genuinely believe they were finding ways to win wars without losing soldiers? Was she gathering evidence against them, was she scared they’d kill her if she left? Not one single word in either the guidebook or the BIR to explain.

Even more annoying to me, though, is just what a wasted opportunity the Baker Incident Report is to add more to Zoe’s story, when she’s one of my favourite RE characters. Included in the text is a letter she received from Mia, giving what should have been the perfect opportunity to flesh out the relationship Zoe and Mia must have built in the three years they spent trapped in the Baker property, the only two (semi-)sane people present – and what does the letter do? Imply they hardly knew each other at all. It’s the most boring possible answer, it contradicts hints from the actual game (Marguerite outright tells us they've been working together, even!), and GDI, you do not get to tell me that my girls didn’t know each other! ;_;

Ethan and Mia similarly get the short shrift. Throughout RE7 their every interaction is building to a big scene that never actually happens where Ethan finds out the truth – Ethan knows Mia’s been keeping secrets, he never stops asking questions about it, and Mia says outright that she wants to come clean. So what does the BIR tell us? Well, post RE7, Mia mentions in an interview that she doesn’t want anyone telling Ethan. Not a word about what changed her mind. Not a word about why Ethan would just stop asking. Total cop-out.

And there’s so much more it could have covered too. There's nothing about Ethan’s ‘military training’. Nothing about the Winters' relationship with Chris. Mia’s conversation with him in RE8 suggests he was personally involved in relocating them to Eastern Europe, but the BIR doesn’t mention that either. The BIR at large is basically just an extended lore dump, and it doesn’t even sound like Zoe’s voice.

So this is about where I finish up with both of these sources: frustrating, inaccessible, inconsistent, and more missed opportunities than real material. There’s a lot in both I’ll happily go on ignoring. But I’ll still pour through them for every last interesting detail, because I am that obsessed with this canon right now, and they’re what we’ve got.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Interviews

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your Momma and Morsa sometimes have to talk to people on a screen for their job

Sometimes your Morsa and Momma don't play football for their jobs.

Sometimes they had to sit at a table with a computer and talk to people on the other side of it.

It was pretty boring so you like to sit under the table and play with your toys, leaning back against Momma's legs to let her know that you hadn't disappeared.

(You had done that once and Momma had burst into tears when she found you at the vending machine with Caroline Graham-Hansen.)

"Of course, you're both role models for girls individually and as a couple but also to working mothers as well. I know that your daughter was living in Germany with you, Pernille, but how has the move been for her?"

"It has been good," Pernille replies with a smile," y/n is still quite little so she's adapted pretty well to everything. I think Magda is the one that was thrown for the first few weeks."

You vaguely hear your name, muffled from where you're hiding under the table. You shuffle closer to Momma on your bum, peaking out from your hiding spot.

Both Momma and Morsa are smiling at the computer.

"As Pernille said, it is good," Magda continues," It is nice to be here, together as a family. y/n is getting to that age now where everything is new and shiny and she's just beginning to understand that Momma and Morsa get to kick a ball around for ninety minutes and win medals."

The interviewer laughs. "And is she a big Chelsea fan?"

Magda laughs as well, shaking her head. "We have only just got her to stop calling it 'Not-Wolfsburg'."

You hear Morsa say 'Wolfsburg' and your interest is renewed. You shuffle out from under the table, on your hands and knees.

The table your parents are sitting at is very tall and you're very small so your forehead barely peaks up over it. You stand in the space between Morsa and Momma's seats and lean forward on your tiptoes - just about tall enough now to be able to peer over the table.

There's a woman on the screen with a microphone. She looks nice but she's speaking English and she's a stranger (Morsa always tells you to be careful around strangers) so you don't really like her on principle.

"Oh, hello there. It looks like you have a little visitor."

Your English has gotten a lot better now - you understand everything she tells you.

(Momma always says you are like a sponge with languages because sometimes at home you flip between Swedish, Danish, German and English when you forget a word in one of your languages).

Morsa turns to look at you, smiling. Her big hand comes to rest on your head, ruffling your hair. You smile back and pass her your favourite stuffed swan before you clamber up into Momma's lap.

She grabs a hold of you securely, moving the chair so you're both tucked in properly and there's no chance of you falling.

"That's a pretty jersey," The woman on the screen says.

You look down at yourself, pinching the emblem.

Momma bounces her knee up and down as she rests her chin atop your head. "What do you say, princesse?"

"Thank you," You say shyly," S' Momma's Not-Wolfsburg jersey."

The adults all laugh and you frown.

You're not entirely sure what you said was funny.

Adults are weird sometimes.

"Is it a competition? On whose jersey she ends up wearing?"

"Usually, yeah," Magda says, looking at you and Pernille fondly," We have had to start dressing her in normal clothes so we don't argue but it's media day today so we thought that she should probably represent the team."

"And how did you decide today?"

"Rock, paper, scissors," Pernille replies.

"Pernille cheated!"

"I did not!"

"She did. She distracted me with y/n before we played."

You giggle as your Morsa pulls a funny face at you and makes your stuffed swan kiss your face. Momma presses a kiss to the top of your head as another peal of laughter escapes your mouth.

"Now, before I let you all go. y/n what's the best thing about living in London with your mums?"

You cock your head to the side for a moment. "Er...Morsa does my hair all pretty and Momma makes nice breakfast! And-And they have a big bed! Sometimes, Momma gets me up in the morning and lets me sleep in the big bed with Morsa!"

You continue to ramble on, more than happy to talk about your favourite subject, only tapering off when your tummy grumbles.

Momma checks the fancy watch Morsa got her for their anniversary.

"It looks like it's lunchtime for the princesse. Can you say goodbye, y/n?"

"Bye!" You smile at the woman on the computer and wave, allowing Momma to place you back on the ground and Morsa to hand over your toy.

As they log off, you grab Morsa's hand.

"We have lunch now?"

"Yes, princesse, we'll have lunch now."

[mysticficti0n]

hey doll can you do fem!reader dating Tom and she's a model and she gets asked to do a lingerie shoot and she's questioning to do it or not and Tom convinces her with little flirty comments and then on the day he comes to pick her up and she's still posing in this black lacy stuff on a bed and he's watching until she notices and he asks if they can take the pieces home????

love you 🤭

girl yes yes yes

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

rip it off

warnings- flirty, angst??, model!gf+TomK

words- 744

"okay thank you- bye" I cut the call and looked to see Tom giving me a questionable look "I've been asked to do a 'fall lingerie' shoot next Wednesday, but I don't know" yes I model but usually fully clothed, I'm not very confident about every inch of my body and Tom knew that "what if I just look like a idiot?"

"babe you wont look like an idiot, I've seen you In lingerie thousands of times and every time It happens oddly enough it ends up with you in my bed and that on the floor" he smiled moving from his place on the sofa to be closer to me "plus Y/n you are sexy as fuck, men are lucky to even look at you and I'm the luckiest because I get to come home to you and do this" he pressed his lips to mine and I couldn't back away from a kiss from Tom, who could?

"what If my dad see's it? god that also means my horrid step-mom too!" I cringed at the thought of those two seeing me nearly naked, dad hadn't been a large part of my life until I started gather fame at 16 for acting in adverts, then dating Tom in one of the most famous bands in Germany and now a world-known model

"so what of they see it? he has a gorgeous daughter who has a successful career unlike him who owned a car company that went bump and his wife looks like Jabba the hut so you have nothing to worry about" I laughed pressing a kiss to his cheek "I'm not wrong- but anyways I think you should do it babe I mean you're the fucking most beautiful girl I've ever seen and I know everyone else would agree"

"fine I'll do it, and thank you you're such a sweetheart when you want to be" I drew circled on his palm seeing him let a small laugh out

"yeah wait till I come see you on Wednesday"

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞

"thats it Y/n push that hip out hun" I was stood in a make-shift door frame with bright white lights making my skin glow while wrapped in a night black lacy piece "okay I think we need you on that bed, and how good can you arch?" I felt a blush come to my face as we walked to the bed

"pretty well..." I climbed onto the plush fabric and watched as they fixed the camera onto me "where do you want me to look? camera or just off it?" I asked Jenna who stood smiling at me

"erm look to the camera and then we can try other stuff but doll you look stunning right now- so ready?" I nodded sliding down the bed and pushing my ass up as much as I could and stared into the lens, the camera clicked a few times and people switched lighting and my make-up until I herd a familiar wolf whistle fill the room, I looked over to where Jenna and the editor were sat and saw in the shadow behind them was Tom sucking his lip, I blew him a kiss and carried on with my shoot, I found myself pushing my positions more as his eyes laid upon me

"okay can we get one of you in the shower? but change into that baby pink set first and Pablo will come lighten your make up because we want cutie in the shower vibe okay?" Salma rubbed my shoulder letting me off set to change, I walked to Tom who sat playing his lip pricing, I purposefully swayed my hips a little more and let a salutary smile come on my face

"afternoon" I hummed feeling his hands immediately go around my waist "you okay?" he stood towering over me pressing a kiss to my forehead

"I'm amazing" his eyes drew narrower, he lowered his head so his mouth was next to my ear "need some help getting this off my love?" his tone sent shivers down my body and all I could do was nod, his hand slipped down to the globe of my ass giving it a quick squeeze before looking to Jenna who had a smirk along her lips "can we take these home?" Tom asked referring to the lingerie "and maybe some spares in case" I hit my boyfriends shoulder as a red shade covered my face

"damn Y/n didn't see you as a girl to have her clothes ripped off" she giggled winking at me

"right well I'll go change" I quickly walked to the backroom and I herd heavy steps follow behind me

"don't fuck for too long!" Jenna called as Tom shut the door after him

[toomanyplotbunnies-sendhelp]

Hello and welcome to Day 27 of "Let's Explore My Plot Bunnies"

(Sorry Cale, I will be, once again, taking away your peace and quiet)

How is everyone today? Me? I AM IN SHAMBLES! I just finished the Penacony Story Quest Act 1, and my mind and heart are broken. But I still want to finish the 31 days of plot bunnies so here I am with day 27.

This plot bunny is literally an entire series of books. More precisely, this plot bunny is my rewrite of Harry Potter with Cale Henituse (and other characters from the novel) as part of the actual cast.

I titled the plot bunny: "A small change in the script"

I will explain the idea below, but beware it is going to be kind of a long explanation. So, enjoy my rambling! (And I am gonna post some memes about this Au pretty soon)

PS: This is really long. I go through the first 5 years at Hogwarts in some detail (I still have a ton of things I haven't spoken about because brain power is very low and I just wanted to get the idea across first). Also, I am sure I made some miskates, so please forgive me. So beware before you start reading!

We start with Cale Henituse and the Henituse and Thames families in this world.

Starting with the Henituse side, they are a pure-blood wizard family that live in the far north of Germany. They are a family that excels at Charms, especially the Shield Charm, Protego. They are known to be neutral when it comes to the idea of muggles and muggle-borns learning about magic. Or rather than neutral, they think the following: "If the muggles/muggle-borns bring trouble, we will do something about it. But if they don't endanger anyone, there is no need for us to intervene." As such, the family keeps out (for the most part) of the drama that the Wizarding World seems to deal with.

Since they are located in the far north of Germany, Deruth attended and graduated from the Drumstrang Institute, just as many other members of his family.

On the other hand, we have the Thames family. They are a pure-blooded (originally) nomadic wizard family that is scattered around the world. They have (lesser known) ties with the Pevrell and some who know members from this family would say that the Thames family have made deals with Death just as the Pevrell brothers did, for they seem too... welcoming, for the lack of better word, of death.

The Thames family are more akin to a "jack of all trades, master of none" when it comes to their magic. Jour Thames, herself, was extremely talented at Dark Arts (mostly in knowing how to repel them), but her parents were more oriented towards Herbology as a subject of specialization.

Jour Thames had decided to remain in Britain once she got her letter to Hogwarts, while her remaining family still wandered the world. She ended up as a Slytherin, beginning in the same year as Severus Snape (and the rest of the Marauders + Lily). She was pretty much Snape's friend (alongside Lucius) in Slytherin.

Jour and Deruth met during the summer before Jour's 7th year at Hogwarts when she decided to take an impromptu visit in Germany. The one who fell first was Deruth.

Deruth was always interested in Muggles and their technology. He is dead set on settling in the Muggle world and living there for the rest of his life. Jour liked the idea enough, as long as she is still free to go to the Wizarding World to talk with her friends and help them in certain missions - Deruth, of course, had no problem with that.

They married after graduating from their respective schools, moved into a muggle city in Germany (somewhere around Berlin) and had Cale Henituse just 2 years after, when they were 20 (Jour) and 21 (Deruth). Six years later, Jour died under mysterious circumstances, leaving a grieving 6 years old Cale and her husband Deruth behind.

Just a year later, Deruth remarried to Violan, a muggle, who already had a son, Bansen. Violan becomes pregnant with the Lily Henituse the following year, making Lily two years old when Cale leaves for Hogwarts.

As a side note, we also have Kim Rok Soo, Choi Jung Soo, and Lee Soo Hyuk, who attended Hogwarts and were in their 4th year when Jour and Snape entered their first. Kim Rok Soo was in Hufflepuff (everyone in there called him "the little snake that was raised as a badger" because, technically speaking, he would have done splendidly in Slytherin); Chou Jung Soo was in Griffindor; Lee Soo Hyuk was in Ravenclaw.

Kim Rok Soo grew close to Jour Thames, to the point where Jour is ready to publicly claim Rok Soo as her sworn brother, which in turn should make him Cale's uncle. Kim Rok Soo was one of the people (besides Snape, Lucius, and Narcissa) called by Jour after Cale was born to see him. Btw, the date of Cale's birth still coincides with Kim Rok Soo's own birthday (November 8th), and Rok Soo believes Cale to be akin to a blessing to him, which is why he vows to protect the kid even after Jour is dead.

Kim Rok Soo, Choi Jung Soo and Lee Soo Hyuk will later form the "Supernatural Prevention Team" within the Ministry of Magic, a separate type of organization that is mainly about finding whatever "supernatural creature/phenomenon" that appeared in the Muggle world and eliminate it before magic/the supernatural is revealed to Muggles. (Think Mystery Inc. gang from Scooby-Doo but the monsters are half of the time actual real creatures and not just some dudes in constumes)

Cale's name was written in the Book of Admission since the day he was born, mostly because, upon being born, baby Cale managed to let out an influx of magic along with his first cry which shattered the windows of the hospital they were at - thankfully, Jour decided she will give birth to Cale in a Wizard Hospital rather than a Muggle one.

Growing up, Jour basically taught Cale both magic and how to handle magical creatures (I can just imagine that Jour became friends with Aragog during her stay at Hogwarts and she was like "Give my son a giant spider friend too"). Cale, just like the rest of the Thames Family, is a "jack of all trades, master of none" when it comes to his magic and, just like the members of the Henituse Family, he uses Protego a lot more than other spells.

When he goes to Hogwarts, on the train he meets with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. All of them are 1st years, but Cale finds the other two a bit... too childish - especially when Ron starts insulting the Slytherin House and its members by calling them all "evil" and "deranged". But instead of lashing out, Cale calmly points out that Merlin was a Slytherin too, while also calling out different names of people from the Griffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who were branded as criminals in the past. When asked by Ron how he knows so much, Cale's response is "Unlike you, I do enjoy reading books", before taking out a book and starting to read, completely ignoring the other two.

When Cale gets sorted, the Sorting Hat pretty much is at a loss. Cale has recklessness of a Griffindor, the intelligence of a Ravenclaw, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, and the cunningness of a Slytherin. Cale's own mentality of "I don't care in which house I get sorted into" doesn't help the Hat either. So the Hat spends well over 5 minutes trying to dig deep enough into Cale's character so that it can actually put him in a house. In the end, the Hat finds that Cale's ambition - which is to take over Kim Rok Soo's position as the current leader (which he got mainly because Lee Soo Hyuk decided ot will be funny to put Rok Soo as the leader) of the "Supernatural Prevention Team" - is pretty strong and decides to sort him into Slytherin. Snape is pretty pleased with that since he also wants to look after Cale. Dumbledore isn't as pleased since Cale looks like a smart kid, and he thinks he is very vulnerable to Voldemort's influence.

Cale integrates pretty well into the Slytherin House, getting along well with Blaise Zabini and, somewhat well, with Draco Malfoy. (It's mostly as "babysitter" type of relationship at the beginning: Cale makes sure Draco doesn't get in that much trouble by calling him out of some things, while Draco is basically the sulky kid that was told "no" for the first time in his life - Cale is not impressed by Draco's attempt at "puppy dog eyes")

However, Cale also ends up, more often than not, around Harry, Hermione, and Ron and deals with their shenanigans. He is the one who convinced the 3 that it was impossible for Snape to be behind Harry's broom going out of control during the Quiddich match and, while they Ron and Hermione don't truly believe him, Harry thinks Cale is not lying. The reason Harry believes Cale so much? Because Cale has never in the months prior ever told lies - Harry fact checked even the names that Cale said were criminals on the train at the beginning of the year, and it turned out he was correct. Same goes for anything else Cale has said before.

Because of this, they reason that Professor Quirell might have been behind all of this, but without proof, they can't be sure of anything.

When they find out that the Philosopher's Stone is in danger of being stolen, the 3 (who also kinda dragged Cale with them) attempt to get to the stone and protect it while Dumbledore is away in London. Cale takes a liking to Fluffy and employs the methods that his mother taught him to calm down magic creatures of all kind - sharing a bit of his magic with them. By doing this, Cale basically shares his emotional state with the creatures he gave magic to, and manages to calm them down as long as Cale himself is calm.

He insists that the other move quickly after Quirell and tells Harry to be careful because he just knows that Quirell's magic just feels off. Once they are gone and Fluffy is back asleep, Cale goes to Snape and informs him of Quirell's actions. Because of this, Snape ends up there when Quirell dies from a combination of Lily's protective charm and the true Quirell's will fighting against Voldemort's control at the very end. (Basically while his body was burnt from the protective charm, Quirell's mind was trying to keep Voldemort from doing too much damage because he realized... Harry is a fucking child and this is wrong on so many levels. So Quirell fights back, but still dies)

While Dumbledore tells Harry he did the right thing, trauma is a bitch, and I refuse to think Harry wouldn't have trauma from seeing someone die in front of him. Cale finds Harry looking like he is about to cry in the hallways so he takes Harry away and, once more, puts his mother's teachings in action. Jour told Cale when he was little that in Hogwarts, as long as you actually need it, you can ask Hogwarts itself for a room - be it if you need it for studying or just as a place to hide.

Cale asks Hogwarts for a place where he and Harry can be alone, and Hogwarts obliges. Once in the silence and safety of that room, Cale tells Harry he can let it go. Harry starts crying. While he may not be the best at comfort, Cale shares that Harry is not the only person who went through something like that since Cale himself watched his mother die on a hospital bed. Harry feels closer to Cale after this instance and thinks to himself that he will try his best to be a good friend to Cale as he was to him. (Cale: Since when was I a good friend? Since when are we friends?)

In the 2nd year, Cale's interest was piqued when Harry spoke Parseltongue during his duel with Draco Malfoy. This alone made Cale suspicious about how intertwined their family lines were with the Slytheirn line since Cale can also speak Parseltongue.

Since the Secret Chamber's serial petrifications cases already started, Cale is immediately suspicious since he knows Harry doesn't have the spine to do such a thing, and Cale himself thinks it's too much of a bother - so someone else is doing something here, and Cale has a strong belief that there is something more to Moaning Myrthle, the ghost from the girl's bathroom on the second floor. (In the meantime, Harry is freaking out because he is half convinced he is doing something while sleep-walking)

After Hermionie is petrified and Hagrid is sent to Azkaban, both Cale and Harry (and Ron, who still didn't like Cale all that much) decide they should do something.

Trying to prove that Hagrid is innocent, Harry and Ron take Hagrid's advice to follow the spiders while Cale tries to find something by asking Hogwarts. Cale asks if there are any books that might help them discover the reason why students are getting petrified. Hogwarts' response is to get him into a room with books on magical creatures.

Once Cale finds out about the Basilisk and about the Acromantula. Knowing that both Harry and Ron went to the Forbidden Forest following Hagrid's advice, Cale immediately goes there as well, making use of his mother's way to tame magical creatures to get to Aragog's lair. Since Aragon knew Jour, Aragog recognizes Cale's magic as belonging to someone blood related to Jour. By sharing his magic with Aragog, Cale gains Aragog's favor and lets the 3 go. (It's way more complicated that I made it look here, but the words elude me for the moment, so this is the short version)

After this, Ron seems to be just a tad nicer to Cale since he pretty much saved them from the giant spiders. Cale tells them about what the information he found about the Basilisk, a creature that fits the narrative of what has been happening recently. Finding a note in the petrified Hermione's hand just proves Cale's deductions correctly. And then Ginny is kidnapped.

When they hear that Lockheart wants to deal with the creature himself, Cale advises Harry and Ron to be careful when dealing with Lockheart since Cale's instincts scream danger whenever the guy is near. They still go and try to tell him what they found about the Basilisk but instead they find that Lockheart, as per Cale's ("frankly scary" as Ron would say) intuition, is a fraud and tries to use the Memory Charm on them too. Cale disarms him.

This time around, both Harry and Cale are trapped inside the Chamber of Secrets after the ceiling caves in due to Ron's broken wand's misfire (don't worry, Lockheart still gets a taste of his own medicine called the Memory Charm).

This is where Harry learns that Cale can also speak Parseltongue and where Cale informs Harry that it is mostly only the descendants of Slytherin who can speak it, bringing forth the idea that in some way they are both related to Slytherin by blood.

During the battle with Tom Marvolo Riddle, Cale is the one who decided to take a leap of faith and protect Harry when Tom ordered the Basilisk to kill him. Thinking fast, Cale orders the Basilisk to stop altogether, banking on the fact that he might also be a contender for the "Slytherin's Heir" position. If the gamble fails Cale dies, but if it succeeds Cale, Ginny and Harry will manage to live. The gamble pays out as the Basilisk stops and, through broken hisses, wishes for her death so that she will not become a weapon of war for Tom Riddle.

Harry pulls out the Sword of Griffindor from the Hat and stabs the Basilisk, after which Tom decides to take matters into his own hands by attacking Harry. Cale, during the battle, talks with the Sorting Hat and finds out that Basilisk Venom will kill whatever the Tom Marvolo Riddle in front of him is as long as he uses it on the source of the magic. To put an end to everything, Cale is the one that stabs the diary with one of the Basilisk's fangs, causing the Tom before them to dissipate.

Towards the end of the year, Cale is dead set on getting him and Harry to Gringotts, where they could have a test done to decipher their family tree and relations to other families. Once there, Cale teaches Harry another thing: the Gringotts Goblins can be your best friend or your worst enemy, so choose wisely. Cale's associate from the bank, a goblin named Rodnar, is the one that they met and the one that helps them with the test.

Turns out, both of them are related to the Slytherin Family, which explains the Parseltongue. They expected that much. Harry got confirmation about his own family and was informed that he is the one in charge of the Potter Family Vault - provisory for now, permanent holder once he reaches 17 years of age.

At the same time, because of the tests they had to do, the Goblins become somewhat worried when they detect foreign magic inside of Harry Potter's body - specifically, dark magic.

Remembering what happened with Voldemort during their first year, Cale and Harry accept a full test on the dark magic and decide that if it is Voldemort's, they will find a way to get rid of it. This marks the beginning of a 3 year-long plan to get rid of Voldemort once and for all.

During the summer before the 3rd Year, Cale spends time with Kim Rok Soo and his team. Rok Soo tells Cale stories of his years at Hogwarts, and he teaches Cale the Patronus Charm. Cale's Patrons turns out to be a Thestral - mostly because most of the happy memories Cale has are with his mother and her death affected Cale a lot more than people think at first glance.

Year 3 begins with both Cale and Harry meeting a Dementor on the train, with various reactions to it. While Harry faints and develops as deep fear of Dementors, Cale's experience is a bit different. When the Dementor appears before him, Cale's magic seems to go just a bit out of control, which makes the Dementor flitch due to its potency. Cale doesn't seem to be as affected by that encounter, which is something Remus Lupin takes note of when Cale comes and visits Harry's train compartment to check on him.

When Harry sneaks into Hogsmeade, he meets up with Cale, who is there to buy candy for Bansen and Lily as Christmas gifts. While Harry is in one of the shops, Cale notices a black dog and starts petting it, finding the animal quite cute. When Harry comes out and finds Cale petting the dog, he not only recognizes the dog but also believes it is weird for the dog to have followed him around.

When it is time for them to return, Harry tells Cale both about the dog and about the tunnel he used to get to Hogsmeade (and the conversation he overheard). Cale is immediately suspicious about the dog and very interested about the Marauder's Map, thinking that whomever created it is a very skilled wizard.

After the divination class where Professor Trelawney gave her prediction about what will happen in the future, Cale contacts Rodnar and asks him if he can find anything on the case of Sirius Black, since he believes something is not quite right there. Rodnar contacts Cale back a bit later, telling him that there is no such thing as a court hearing of Sirius Black and that he was sent immediately to Azkaban. From there, Cale works with Susan Bones and her aunt to resolve this clear lack of justice accorded to Sirius Black's case and to get his name cleared.

In the meantime, Harry, Hermione, and Ron hear about Buckbeak's execution and try to prevent it.

The more Cale digs into the past of Sirius Black and his crimes, the more suspicious everything becomes. Then, he remembers Scabbers looks peculiar for a pet rat - specifically, that Scabbers is a rat with a missing finger. Realizing Harry and the others are in danger, Cale attempts to reach them in time to help, only to end up coming a bit too late and assisting Harry and Hermione with the Time-Turner, coming with them to the past and having his Patronus help Harry's when they need to get the Dementors to back away from Sirius and past Harry.

Once Sirius is safe, Cale presents to Sirius his options: 1. He continues like this and hides for the rest of his life or 2. He can accept help from Cale and present his case to the Ministry of Magic and get some mind healing sessions, after which he will be free to take custody of Harry.

Of course, Sirius accepts Cale's help, and Remus Lupin even jokes that if he didn't agree, Remus himself would have dragged him to get help. When Sirius asks why Cale is doing all of this, Cale just replies that this will help Harry and annoy a certain people he quite dislikes. By the 5th year, Harry is in Sirius's custody.

Towards the end of the 3rd Year, Cale tells Harry to meet him in the Chamber of Secrets. When Harry arrives, Cale tells him that there is something very strange about the Chamber - it was way too empty. Understanding where he is going with this Harry asks if Cale found anything that tells him there is something more to the Chamber. Cale says that it is merely his intuition.

The two spend the night there trying to find something amiss within the room. During this time, Cale tells Harry he should be weary of Dumbledore. When Harry asks why, Cale replies: "Men like Dumbledore care only about their plans, not about the people that are part of their plans. Dumbledore is the same type of person that I am. So be careful around him and scrutinize every word he says."

Harry, internally, disagrees on the view that Cale has of himself, thinking that although Cale might not show it the conventional way, he truly does care about him and the others.

The two, in the end, find that there is a secret library inside the Chamber of Secrets, full of books from the time of Salazar Slytherin. They even find his journal. Cale decides to try and memorize as much of this library as he could, looking for ways to try and get rid of Voldemort, whom Cale suspects to be behind the Dark Magic inside Harry's body. In the library, Cale and Harry find some information on Horcruxes - something even Salazar Slythrin called "a practice that no one should ever attempt at any point in their life" and they both start making connections between Voldemort and Horcruxes. This is how year 3 ends.

Year 4, for Cale, starts with hearing about the Death Eaters raid after the Quidditch Championship. Knowing that this is merely the beginning of the trouble, Cale starts conversing with Kim Rok Soo about the situation. Kim Rok Soo asks Cale to be careful and not to be reckless should he ever come across a Death Eater.

At Hogwarts, Cale decides to make more progress in the memorization of the books in Salazar Slytherin's secret library. The book that he starts reading explains the concept of "magic reflection" as a defensive technique in a duel. Cale starts thinking if this could be used against the Unforgivable Curses that Mad-Eye Moody showed them during the Defense Against the Dark Arts.

When the Triwizard Tournament starts and Harry is suddenly and inexplicably chosen to be part of it, Cale immediately suspects Dumbledore of putting Harry's name into the Goblet of Fire. He tells as much to Harry and the others, feeling that even if his suspicion turns out to be wrong, at least they will keep their guard up during the competition.

During the competition, Cale tries to help Harry as much as he can to prepare - and that includes stopping Ron's jealousy from going too far. So Cale invites Ron to have tea with him and talk to him about his insecurities. Cale tells Ron not to let his feelings destroy a friendship that he cherishes, and instead, invites Ron to come to him and talk about whatever he wants as a way to get things off his chest. Cale reasons with himself that he already does that (in some capacity) with Draco since the second year so having Ron do this too is not that much trouble now.

From there, things progress normally. During the Yule Ball, Cale attends with Susan Bones. The two discussed the happenings in the previous year and what happened this year as well. Susan is well aware that Harry couldn't have gotten into the TriWizard Tournament without someone else putting his name in the Goblet, and she feels pity for Harry, who has to deal with so many things happening to him. Both Susan and Cale decide that this year protecting Harry and finding who made him part of the Tournament is the most important thing. Both also remark how Rita Skeeter is a very annoying type of journalist and that if she becomes a problem, both of them will do their best to deal with her.

On the day of the last task for the tournament, the Weasley Twins decided to pull a little prank and, though sheer bad luck, Cale ends up being the one that the prank falls on. Cale has to change clothes due to the twins' prank, and a Hufflepuff student tells Cale he can take his spare robes. (The Hufflepuff kinda like Cale ever since Susan vouched for him despite being a Slytherin.)

Cale takes the offer. Feeling that something is about to go wrong, Cale asks Harty before hand if he can borrow the Invisibility Cloak. Harry, although confused, accepts.

When the third task starts, Cale sneaks into the labyrinth with the Invisibility Cloak and tries to stay around Harry to make sure he will be fine. Cale loses sight of Harry at one point but finds Cedric Diggory, a 7th year Hufflepuff student and gives himself away in his haste. When Cedric asks Cale why he is there, Cale tells him he is not there to intervene with the Tournament, he is just there to make sure Harry makes it out in one piece. Liking the loyalty Cale showed and fully agreeing that Harry is in need of protection, Cedric tells Cale he will help Harry if he is in a any trouble. Cale thanks him and the two make their way through the maze, later meeting Harry at the place where Cup was.

When Cale realized that the Triwizard Cup was a Portkey, Cale also held onto the Cup being transported with Cedric and Harry to the graveyard where Peter Pettigrew was. When Peter tries to use Avada Kadavra on Cedric, Cale employs the "magic refection" technique he read in the Chamber's library, casting Protego and praying that the Unspeakable Curse will bounce off the shield he created. It does happen, but Cale miscalculated and Harry still ends up injured and his blood is used to raise Lord Voldemort from the grave.

Voldemort and Harry still duel, which resulted in the Priori Incantatem still taking effect. Thinking fast, Cale tells Harry to come behind him with Cedric and sets up a new shield. This buys the three kids time, as Cale tells Harry and Cedric to take the Cup once again while their are under the shield so that they can go back. When the two ask Cale what he will do, Cale just tells them he will be fine. Once they are gone, Cale turns his attention towards Voldemort and his followers. Voldemort is indignant at the attitude of a mere Hufflepuff child and fires another Avada Kadavra. Cale knew that if that spell hit the shield will not save him. As such, Cale did another stupid thing: he used a type of magic he only read about before, Apparition.

Cale ends up in the Forbidden Forest, with a shoulder injury but otherwise alive after his 1ts successful Apparition.

Later on, after Cale makes his way back to Hogwarts, he finds out that both Harry and Cedric are alive and well. Harry and Cedric were worried sick about Cale but unanimously decided not to mention Cale's presence in the graveyard because they know Dumbledore doesn't like Slytherin students and they both fear Cale will be in trouble.

When Dumbledore talks with Harry in private later, Harry keeps in mind that Cale warned him not to trust Dumbledore. Cale's works seem to be proven right when Harry noticed Dumbledore looks triumphant when he hears Harry's blood was used to bring Voldemort back to the living. Feeling hurt, Harry seeks out Cale to tell him thing, and Cale comforts Harry as best as he can.

A bit later, Cale tells Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco, and Cedric to meet up to discuss what happened during the tournament. Cedric shows up and brings with him most of the other classmates who also feel something is weird about this. When Harry tells about his conversation with Dumbledore, everyone is quite mad because they don't like that Dumbledore went to the extreme of putting Harry's name in the Goblet to use him as a pawn in his own schemes. When someone points out that Barty Crouch Jr. who disguised as Mad Eye Moody could have done that, Harry points out that Moody was Dumbledore's friend, so would Dumbledore really be fooled by Barty's act?

When that was pointed out, everyone became quiet. Cale breaks the silence by telling everyone that whatever is happening will not be resolved by the Ministry of Magic. Susan backs Cale up, stating that her aunt told her that Fudge is not as reliable as people think.

Cale proposes everyone to work together from the inside of Hogwarts since they will most likely be in danger, most are skeptical - especially Ron who doesn't trust Draco or any of the other Slytherin that much. Cale tells Ron it is understandable for him not to he OK with this arrangement but if they don't work together, the ones that will lose will be them.

Someone asks Cale if he has a plan since he is so sure of what he said. Cale looks at Harry, who nods in response, and says: "Harry and I have a plan. It's risky and very difficult to put in action. But my main question to you all is: Do you trust us?" The others nodded, some faster, others more reluctant. Cale smiles and then proceeds to tell the: "Then trust me when I say, we need to help the Slytherin students to be on our side. They are just kids. They are scared more of their parents' words/actions if they disobey, rather than the consequences of their blind loyalty. That undying piece of shit is using them as a means to an end, and when their usefulness expires, he will get rid of them. Just because they are Slytherin doesn't mean they don't deserve to be helped." Harry takes it from there: "Which is why we want to show them that they still have a choice. Cale has tried his best until now to make his fellow Slytherin understand that, but to no avail. Now, if we work together, we might just be able to save them from all of this."

Draco is a bit surprised by this since he never realized Cale tried to help the others in the Slytherin House. Cale, seeing his reaction, explains to Draco that when dealing with Slytherins, you can't show too much that you are against the Dark Lord's orders since that will immediately alert them. The Slytherin kids know that if someone betrays the Dark Lord, they should tell their parents, or they will be called an accomplice to their betrayal. So Cale cannot be upfront with the others, but putting seeds of doubt in their minds is better than nothing at this point. If they play their cards right, the other Slytherin will doubt the validity of the Dark Lord's words at one point or another. What they need is to make that happen sooner.

The meeting ends with that and with a confirmation from Cedric that he will help Cale with whatever he needs over the summer. Cale tells Cedric, Draco, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Neville, Luna, Susan, and Terry to meet him again during the summer because he needs their help with something that is essential to their plan.

(After the meeting, the Hufflepuff house pretty much adopts Cale as well. Especially after Cedric tells them that Cale saved his life during the confrontation with Peter Pettigrew and later with Voldemort. When they realize Cale's shoulder is still hurt after the Apparition, the entire house puts Cale into blankets and makes hot chocolate for him. Cale, albeit confused, doesn't complain)

During the summer, the group meets up and, amidst all the planning, they bond. Draco becomes more friendly with Harry and his group, much to Cale's approval. Meanwhile, everyone starts seeing Cale as the leader of the entire movement/group, although Cale remains oblivious to that. Harry is officially put under Sirius's care during this time, to Dumbledore's disapproval. (Not that there is much he can do about it since the Ministry of Magic not only approved of this but pushed for this to happen. All thanks to Amelia Bones, btw.) Because of this new arrangement for Harry, Cale ends up visiting him at 12 Grimmauld Place during summer and, though Cale honestly doesn't know why, Kreacher takes a liking to Cale, while still disliking Sirius and, somewhat, Harry too. (Look, don't ask Cale. He was just polite to Kreacher. He was taught to be polite to older creatures since young goddammit)

Also, Cale and Harry get some useful updates on the research for a way to get the Dark Magic out of Harry from Rodnar and the staff at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. All in all, the summer passes quickly for everyone. Especially with the hearing Harry has to go through in August - thanks a lot, Dumbledore - but at least now they know fully that no one believes that Voldemort is back. They can cross out the idea of going to the Ministry for help in this situation.

Then, the fifth year starts, and everyone is introduced to Dolores Umbridge, their new DADA teacher for the year.

When Harry first gets the Umbridge Detention experience, complete with the (illegal) enchanted quill, it is Cale that he chooses to go to first. Cale, although enraged with Umbridge, tells Harry to keep his head down and try not to go against Umbridge. When asked why, Cale replies with: "I have a plan to deal with her, but I need you and everyone else to keep out of trouble for now." Harry, reluctantly, agrees to that.

Meanwhile, Cale poses as a perfectly obedient student in front of Umbridge, telling her that his father has chosen him as the successor to the family business and that he has to conform, and, as such, he won't be able to join the little army of students she is making. Umbridge, seeing that as a pertinent excuse, agrees and notes that Cale and his family would be a wonderful addition to the Dark Lord's army, especially once they are swayed to his side. Cale, on the other hand, is actually digging for misdeeds of Umbridge so he can report her.

To make sure that the report would actually work, Cale meets with Snape and asks what the requirements for a Hogwarts teacher are to be expelled from their position. Snape, guessing where this is going, tells Cale that there needs to be 3 wrongdoings recognized by the Ministry of Magic (with proof) for the teacher to be expelled. He also warns Cale that he will not hesitate to expell Cale should he be found out to be the one behind whatever he is trying to do. Cale takes that as a challenge and asks Snape for a favor: to give Cale lessons in Occlumency. Snape does agree. However, he states that the lessons will stop the moment Cale makes one mistake or the moment he thinks Cale's little scheme to get rid of Umbridge (which Snape also wants to happen mind you) will be found out. And so, before in October, Cale's first lessons in Occlumency begin.

During this time, Cale works with Harry and the others and creates the Hogwarts Army, once it is clear they won't learn anything from Umbridge as their DADA teacher. They use the Chamber of Secrets as their true meeting spot, with the Room of Requirement as a front. Meanwhile, Draco, who is part of the group created by Umbridge, named the Inquisitorial Squad, is trying to do as Cale told them at the end of last year - to place seeds of doubt in the minds of the other Slytherin students. Draco chooses to do so by pointing out that Umbridge's temperament is getting worse - today she was screaming at some 2nd year kids from the Hufflepuff house, and tomorrow she might just start screaming at us. To divert suspicion from himself, Draco just says that he just finds the old hag's attitude annoying since she is merely a half-blood compared to most of the Slytherin students who are pure blooded and that if she ever rises her voice at us then should we, pure-bloods, just stand there and take it? ("My father will hear about this" intensifies)

This attempt does plant some doubt in the others although Draco sees it as a failure.

Until Januray, Cale puts his little scheme in action. First, using the Occlumency Lessons from Snape, Cale makes sure to create a pensive containing the memory of Umbridge stating that she is part of the Swayer Family - which he will use later in the year. Next, after digging into Umbridge's past, he strikes a deal with the Ghosts of Hogwarts - including Peevees - that has them spreading rumors around about Umbridge and whatever mistakes and scandals he could find in her past. Finally, he contacts Kim Rok Soo with these findings and urges his uncle to finish his part of the plan before coming to Hogwarts to take care of Umbridge.

When Harry has his vision of the attack on Mr. Weasly, instead of bringing it up to Dumbledore, Harry finds Cale and tells him that they need to start putting their plan in action. This leads to Harry still taking Occlumency Lessons, but instead of Snape teaching him, it is Cale (who took the Polyjuice Potion to look like Snape) that teaches him. This is merely a front for part of their plan. Since they know now that Voldemort is the owner of the Dark Magic inside Harry, the two want to use this connection Harry has with Voldemort to find out about the locations of his Horcruxes. The principle they use is something studied by Salazar Slytherin, who writes in his library that there is a way to feed false information to someone but that person's mental state should be less than perfect for it to work. Combined with the knowledge that whomever attempts to create a Horcrux will have their mental state damaged, Cale and Harry decide they can actually try this on Voldemort. So Cale teaches Harry how to implant imaginary situations inside Voldemort's head, with Voldemort thinking that these are Harry's actual memories that seeped through their connection rather than just made-up scenarios. In the meantime, Harry learns about the Horcruxes: the diary they have destroyed during their 2nd year; the Gaunt's Family Ring that is currently in Dumbledore's possession; the Slytherin Locket - location unknown; the Hufflepuff Cup - location unknown; Ravenclaw Diadem - location unknown; and finally Nagini, who is always with Voldemort.

Knowing they have to destroy these items, the two start searching for them using the easiest way they could think of - asking Hogwarts. Cale asks Hogwarts if there is any room inside that castle that has a Horcrux inside of it, and, in response, Hogwarts opens the way to the Room of Requirement where the two find Ravenclaw Diadem - after a long time of searching.

From there, they announce Rodnar and the Gringotts Bank about the fact that there are more Horcruxes than anyone could have guessed and tell them what items they are. Knowing this, the Goblins make an inspection of the vaults in search of a signature of dark magic, finding the Hufflepuff Cup and giving it to Cale. With 2 Horcruxes in their hands, 1 already destroyed and 1 in Dumbledore's hands, the two decide that the Slytheri Locket should be their next target. But, with no concrete location for it yet, the two turn their attention towards dealing with Umbridge, who has been getting more and more angry due to the rumors that were spread around by the Hogwarts Ghosts.

Umbridge's temperament is truly getting out of hand, for she even starts yelling at her own Inqisitorial Squad when the rumors don't stop. This makes the Slytherin doubt their choice of loyalty even more since Umbridge is a half-blood and she is allowed to yell at them (pure-blood wizards) and the Dark Lord seems to not have heard or done anything about it.

In April, where Umbridge would become the Headmistress in canon, instead there is a visit from Kim Rok Soo, his teammates and 2 other officials from the Ministry of Magic because Cale sent the evidence that he found about Umbridge. They accuse Umbridge of "impersonation of a successor to a pure-blood wizard family" with the proof being the pensive that Cale send of Umbridge claiming she is related to the Swayer Family which turns out to be a lie. Next, they present the evidence of her taking bribes and other means of payment as a member of the Ministry, which is illegal by all means.

During these accusations, Umbridge becomes more and more furious, knowing that it was a student who organized all of this. Since the accusation scene takes place in the Main Hall with most of the students and teachers present, Umbridge sees Cale, who appears (to her) a bit smug. Knowing that even if she tries, she can't prove her innocence anymore, she decides to take Cale down with her. Umbrige uses Crucio on Cale, which causes him quite a lot of pain.

Meanwhile, Cale is very much aware that there is a chance that Umbridge will attack whomever she thinks is responsible for her downfall. He, however, is fully ready to take whatever Umbridge will do because 1. it will only serve to incriminate her further and 2. Cale was the one that came up with this plan, he will not let someone else take the fall for him. (Although Umbridge casting Crucio was not in his plans)

The pain that Umbridge's Crucio brings Cale is quickly stopped by Kim Rok Soo who punches Umbridge and leaves her unconscious. (Go get her, Rok Soo!!!!)

This incident happens in front of the already doubtful Slytherin students, who know (read: think they know) Cale is innocent and immediately jump to help him since he is pretty much down for the count, Draco and Blaise being the first ones to try and see if Cale is alright. Harry and the others then point out that this is not the only time Umbridge has resorted to punishments such as these, telling the officials of the Ministry about the enchanted blood pen that Harry was forced to use in detentions. (To say that Snape and McGonagall weren't horrified was a lie) Other students, including the Slytherins, came up to tell about how Umbridge kept yelling and blaming them for every little thing that went wrong for her.

Cale was taken to the infirmary where he is recovering, while Kim Rok Soo is very much aware that Cale might have even planned for himself to become a target of Umbridge to further incriminate her. Kim Rok Soo doesn't like that one bit. He tells as much to Snape in private (with whom he is still friends btw) and asks Snape to look after Cale. Kim Rok Soo is not able to stay long since they have to get Umbridge to an interrogation (Kim Rok Soo promises to make her scream during it btw) and, later, to incriminate Fudge who was responsible for putting Umbridge in charge of children at Hogwarts. (In other words: Operation "Ministry Take Over" is a go!)

A few days later, Cale wakes up at the infirmary. He is still in a bit of pain, but not nearly as much. Snape is the one that stays with him and the one that is there when Cale wakes up. Snape does tell Cale that what he did was extremely dangerous and stupid (2 attributes that are very much Griffindor-esque), Cale counters with "I can't just let her send a Crucio at another, probably, even younger student, right? Also, how was I supposed to know she knows Crucio of all spells?" Still, Cale does get a lecture from both Snape and, later, McGonagall. And it's not like his friends (from any house) are pleased with this either.

After this, things go back to normal. However, in May, Cale gets a letter from Kreacher. Kreacher feels like Cale and the late Regulus Black share a lot of things - specifically their desire to make things right. In the letter, Kreacher states that he knows where the Slytherin Locket is and that he knows (from the Goblins that he converses with) that Cale is after the Horcruxes. Kreacher says he is willing to give the Slytherin Locket to Cale as long as Cale promises that what they are doing will bring justice to the death of Regulus Black, the last member of the Black Family that Kreacher actually cares for. Cale sends back his promise to do so and tells Kreacher he could come and see that the promise is kept towards the end of the year.

When the O.W.Ls begin and Harry has that vision of Sirius dying, the group knows it is time to move. Harry and Cale instruct the remaining members of the Hogwarts Army to be in full alert mode, knowing that Voldemort plans to keep Hogwarts occupied by sending an army of Dark Creatures while he is at the Ministry of Magic. Harry also tells Sirius to not, under any measure, come to the Ministry of Magic - advice which is ignored and Sirius even brings Remus along since he was there when Harry sent the message. (Thankfully, Kim Rok Soo intercepted the 2 idiots or they would be dead)

Cale, Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, Terry, Susan, and Cedric go to the Ministry of Magic, fully aware of Voldemort and his Death Eaters being there, but also fully aware that they have a plan.

The final showdown happens in the Department of Mysteries, where Cale has convinced his uncle, Kim Rok Soo, to set up the trap that they need to get rid of Voldemort once and for all.

When Voldemort and his Death Eathers (Bellatrix included, but no Lucius) appear, the trap activates, and there appears an array under their feet. The ten kids start their incantations (all of them having different ones, mind you), and a shield separates Voldemort and his minions from the kids. As they continue their incantation, Voldemort tries to use Avada Kadavra on Harry or Cale, but the shield redirects the spell towards Voldemort himself (tho it doesn't quite hit him). Bellatrix is also trying to use any spell against the kids, Neville in particular, but they are also bounced back. Seeing that their spells are ineffective, Voldemort and his minions resort to taunting to make even one of them lose their concentration, which could lead to the array breaking. Bellatrix starts taunting Draco saying things like "If your parent saw you doing this, they will do everyone a favor and kill him on the spot" or "You are a traitor who sided with the mugles. Do you really have no shame or respect for your pure-blooded origins?". Draco, although he is deadly afraid of his father's opinion of him, is also fully aware that he had never felt more at ease than when he is around Cale and the other. He, aware of the consequences, decided to take matters in his own hand and chose his own path - and he chooses to help Cale and Harry. He doesn't falter in his incantation, nor does he fall for the taunts of Bellatrix, which annoys her.

Voldemort, meanwhile, is going back and forth between trying to get a raise out of Cale and Harry or trying to recruit Cale in his army by telling him about the power he will be given. Neither budge.

When the incantations are complete, Voldemort and his minions find themselves sealed inside a crystal ball. The walls of the crystal ball basically absorb any spells thrown at them and reflect them right back. This makes Voldemort and his minions into a non-existent threat. Cale even taunts Voldemort saying that only our blood can get them out of the crystal balls now. The 10 kids congratulate each other for a job well done. Before they leave the Ministry, they meet with Lucius. Voldemort and Bellatrix are gleeful, thinking that Lucius will kill the kids. The one that speaks up is Draco, who tells Lucius not to get in their way. Lucius looks at his son, lowers his wand, and let's them through, telling Draco that he is proud of him. Voldemort and Bellatrix call Lucius a traitor, but Lucius looks at them as says: "The only one I was ever loyal to was my family. You are not part of my family" before ruffling Draco's hair and leaving. Draco is still in shock (but also very happy) even after they leave the Ministry and go to Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, the rest of the Hogwarts Army decides to take part in the fight against the Dark Creatures sent by Voldemort, much to the disagreement of the teachers. During the fight, Slytherin students also enter the fray on the Hogwarts Army side. Most of the Slytherin students were already against the Dark Lord after seeing how Umbridge behaved towards them and how she attacked Cale. Now, they make a full statement by fighting against the Dark Lord. The fight ends without casualties - the injuries the students get are not death threatening.

When McGonagall and the other teachers (including Dumbledore) are about to ask/scold the children for their recklessness, Cale and the others return with Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the crystal balls. When Cale starts explaining the plan that has been in the making for the last 3 years (at least), Cedric, Ron and Neville dissappear for a while, only to return with the Hufflepuff Cup, the Ravenclaw Diadem, and the Sword of Griffindor and a vial of Basilisk Venom in hands.

Cale tells everyone present of what Voldemort did to his own soul and how the items that were brought here are some of the Horcruxes. Ron takes the Sword of Griffindor and puts Basilisk Venom on it, before bringing it down onto the Cup and the Diadem, destroying 2 of the Horcruxes in front of Voldemort.

Luna and Hermione look at Dumbledore and tell him to give them the Gaunt Ring that they know is with him so that it can be destroyed too. During all this, Cale explains how he and Harry came across the connection between Harry and Voldemort and how they used said connection to make sure that they found the Horcruxes. When Occlumency is mentioned, it finally clicks for Snape what Cale used his lessons for. When Snape asks Cale why he couldn't tell him directly of his plan, Cale says: "You were already in a lot of danger since you played the double spy for Dumbledore, Professor Snape. If I told you all of this, it might put you in even more trouble with either Voldemort or Dumbledore." (Cale has suspected that Snape was a double spy since the beginning but with no proof it was hard to even say this; the others started suspecting this during this year). The Ring is also destroyed, this time by Cedric.

Voldemort laughs since there are 2 more Horcruxes, and the kids don't have them. Cale stops him by calling out for Kreacher, who is waiting with Dobby to make his entrance. Kreacher gives Cale the Slytherin Locket and, while looking straight at Voldemort and Bellatrix, tells Cale to destroy it and finally fulfill the last wish of his late Master Regulus.

Cale takes the Locket and looks at Kreacher, who nods. He takes a breath and speaks, for the first time in front of everyone, in Parseltongue, and thus opens the Locket. Once open, he holds out his hand to Cedric, who gives Cale the Sword of Griffindor, and Cale destroys the Slytherin Locket. Now, 5 of the Horcruxes are destroyed. But there is still Nagini, who is still missing.

When Voldemort points that out, Harry looks at the clock and tells everyone to wait a bit.

After a while, Kim Rok Soo (together with 2 dogs *cough* Sirius and Remus *cough*) enters the Main Hall and says: "Sorry I was late. I was snake hunting, and I found 2 dogs on the road as well, " and points to Nagini (who is struggling against some magic binds) and Sirius and Remus, who look like confused puppies.

Cale and Harry tell them they were just in time. Cale then looks at Voldemort and states: "I thought about how you deserve to die, Voldemort, and I felt like a quick death is too kind for you after the amount of trouble you gave everyone. So, I decided I should let you die the death you fear most: the death of muggles. No death in a battle, nor by a sword. But by starvation. Slow and painful."

While Cale was speaking, Kim Rok Soo brought Nagini closer. However, in a last-ditch effort, Nagini manages to free herself from the bindings and makes a dash to bite Cale. Neville, although scared, takes the Sword of Griffindor from Cale's hands and kills Nagini, protecting Cale.

And with this all the hope Voldemort ever had vanished as Nagini dissipates.

Everyone congratulates Neville for his bravery, although Neville doesn't feel like he did anything much - he just says that his body moved on its own and that this was by far the scariest thing he ever went through.

Cale and Harry share looks, and then they say things aren't really over yet. Cale passes Harry a bottle of liquid and tells everyone that Voldemort has one more Horcrux, one not even Voldemort knew about - Harry. He then proceeds to tell everyone about their findings at the end of the 2nd year and what the St Mungo Hospital found as a solution - it is a potion that will expell any magic in someone's body, be it theirs or someone else's. Harry says he will take the risk that the potion poses because he trusts Cale to bring him back if something goes wrong. Harry then proceeds to find a chair nearby and sit down. He drinks the potion and slowly falls unconscious.

Cale keeps a keen eye on him the entire time while explaining how the potion works. Whoever takes the potion will have their magic slowly seeping from their body into the air around them. This can kill the person, which is why a maximum of 5 minutes of unconsciousness is the amount permitted before someone actually dies. If the person who took the potion spends more than 5 minutes into unconsciousness they will defines die.

During the next 2 minutes, everyone witnessed a black fog exiting Harry's body, and after it is fully gone, Cale goes to Harry and makes him drink another potion, the one that will wake Harry up.

During his sleep, Harry enters the Limbo, where he meets and talks with a young Tom Riddle who feels very guilty about everything that Voldemort has done. He apologizes to Harry for all that he went through and explains that the piece of Voldemort's soul that Harry had inside of himself was the last piece of humanity that Voldemort possessed. Tom then explains that he had tried to stop Voldemort from going down the path he did, but he was always brushed aside. Voldemort created so many orphans when he himself lived the life of an orphan before. Voldemort went against everything that was his old person when he killed Harry's parents and tried to kill him. So, when the opportunity appeared, he attached himself to Harry and tried to help warn him of Voldemort's presence around him. Harry says that it is not his fault, for he tried his best and failed. As such, Tom has no reason to apologize, and the one who should feel guilty is Voldemort and not him. Tom thanks Harry before saying that he will spend his remaining time here, in Limbo, as he waits for Voldemort's remaining soul to follow him into death. He also tells Harry not to worry, for he has made peace with Death and is ever eagerly awaiting the slumber now. Before Harry comes back to reality, Tom tells Harry to live well and cherish his friends.

Once awake, Harry asks if it worked, and Cale answers with a resolute yes. After this, he is hugged tightly by Sirius and Remus, who were worried beyond words.

Cale takes the crystal balls containing Voldemort and his minions and gives them to Kim Rok Soo for safekeeping. When asked why Kim Rok Soo gets to keep the crystal balls, it is revealed that Kim Rok Soo took over the position of Minister of Magic after he and his team arrested Fudge after it was found out that him and a good chunk of the Ministry of Magic were supporters of Voldemort. Kim Rok Soo referred to the whole thing as a "Well needed sping cleaning" and mentioned that most of them are currently in Azkaban or awaiting trial. He also mentions to Dumbledore that he is also on the list for the amount of sketchy things he had pulled over the years and that because of this, from the next year onwards, either Snape or McGonagall will be Headmaster/Headmistress. Snape immediately gives the position to Minerva, stating he is already done with children for the rest of his life. Everyone laughs at that, and Rok Soo says gleefully that Lee Soo Hyuk owns him money now, which earns him a glare from Snape.

And so the 5th year ends. Voldemort and Bellatrix are basically waiting for their death in the crystal balls, and the other Death Eaters (bar Snape and Lucius, who are exceptions - one because he worked for the Order of the Phoenix; the other because he turned himself in and even turned other Death Eaters in so Kim Rok Soo decided to lighten his sentence to a life of working for the Ministry under a blood contract) were hunted down and send to Azkaban.

What no one knew was that while everyone was high on the relief of getting rid of Voldemort or focused on getting the Death Eaters, Voldemort was visited by an individual. This individual wore a mask and was very disappointed in Voldemort: "Taken down by a bunch of kids? Tsk, tsk, tsk. This is why you were never going to be the strongest wizard - no matter what you wanted or sacrificed for it" said the masked man. "Too bad. I didn't think I had to take the stage this early but oh well. I would say you were useful for as long as you existed, but I would be totally lying. Enjoy death, Tom Marvolo Riddle." said the masked man before putting Voldemort out of his misery, his body dissolving inside the crystal ball.

Even though Cale and Harry expect their 6th and 7th year to be way less eventful, what awaits them is a fateful meeting with the one that calls himself "White Star."

A war is on it's way and they can only hope to survive.

And done. Thank fuck this was long as hell, but then again, I did go through 5 years worth of events for this fic. And, I still have some little details I need to speak about:

Cale was born on the 8th of November 1979. This makes him 11 on the 1st day of year 1 at Hogwarts, and he turns twelve just a bit after the Troll Incident.

Cale is extremely happy to have someone like Kim Rok Soo in his life, and he is also very grateful for his presence. Kim Rok Soo feels more like an older brother that Cale never had, rather than an uncle.

Cale's boggard is... well, himself, in a way. After his mom died, Cale tended to lash out at everything and everyone. He fears returning to the type of person he was back then, when he would say hurtful words even to Kim Rok Soo.

Kim Rok Soo took Cale around with him and his team during the summers after the death of Jour, mostly to make Cale have some good time and a change of scenery.

This is how Cale met Alver in France. (I swear I can't NOT have Alver as French. He looks like he would eat a baguette and correct your pronunciation of "croissant" - I know you think the same now)

Here, Choi Han is Choi Jung Soo's nephew. Choi Han goes to Drumstrang btw.

Ron and Beacrox are still serving the Henituse family. (Cale also feels guilty for saying bad things to them as a child)

Bansen is a muggle, but Lily turns out to be a half-blood. This is one of Cale's main reasons for going against Voldemort - a world where Voldemort wins means a world where Bansen and Lily can't live.

There are a ton of things that I haven't even mentioned: like how many people Cale (unwittingly) befriends at Hogwarts; Cale also stress bakes (which makes him share whatever he ends up baking with other students, which results in him being liked because who would turn down baked goods?); Cale is friends with most of the Elves and they like Cale because he is nice; Cale and Hagrid become good friends because they share their adoration for magic creatures; Ron admits that Cale has "balls of titanium" after he approached Fluffy without fear - and ever more so after meeting Aragog; Blaise feels like he is the only truly normal and sane Slytherin whenever he watches Cale;

I want to introduce Raon, Ohn and Hong, but I dunno if they should be introduced from year 1 or if I can introduce them during Year 6.

Cale, as always, destroys White Star's evil plan in 2 years tops while juggling graduation and studies. For reference, taking down Voldemort basically took 5 years, so yeah, WS should be ashamed since his minion was harder to deal with.

You read that right, Voldemort was thrown down the road he went by White Star. He was the one who actually gave Voldemort the information about Horcruxes.

I want to mess with the canon because canon is dead to me for the most part. This also means I want to make new ships. I wanna put Draco with Ginny (it will work out later on, I feel); Harry either with Hermione or Hannah Abbott; Neville Longbottom with Luna Lovegood; Cale might get together with Susan Bones (political power couple these 2 are); Ron either with Hermione (like in canon, if Harry doesn't end up with her) or Lavander Brown. Trust me, I know the ships are weird but if the narration works, the ships will also work.

Harry and Cale kinda end up like brothers - mostly because they have the same amount of bad luck and they end up in the same shit-show together.

Cale feels indebted to Fred and George Weasley after the prank from year 4 because he was in Hufflepuff robes instead of Slytherin robes when Cale went against Voldemort, so he was kinda saved from a lot of trouble. Cale literally tells them "Whatever you need, whenever you need it, as long as I can get it - it is yours".

Lee Soo Hyuk becomes again the leader of the "Supernatural Prevention Team" after Kim Rok Soo becomes Minister of Magic. He is still laughing since Kim Rok Soo ended up with even more paperwork to do than him. (This usually ends with Rok Soo giving him more paperwork to do)

Rok Soo might end up with Severus Snape... at least as an implied relationship. They have been friends since Jour basically forced them to become babysitters for her in Hogwarts and implicitly trust each other.

Lucius is more loyal to his family than to Voldemort here, which results in him just turning his back to Voldemort once it is clear he is dealt with. He never wanted Draco to end up as a Death Eater and is very proud he never did.

After the confrontation with Voldemort at the end of Year 5, Draco can perform a Patronus Charm. His Patronus is a Falcon.

And yes, Draco actually gets friends and a personality beyond being just a bully in the first 4 books/movies. Like seriously, let him be a child, and he can change for the better goddammit. (Cale will be a good influence on Draco, but, essentially, Cale is bad for Draco's heart rate because he is damn crazy)

Kim Rok Soo's Patronus is Runespoor. Choi Jung Soo's a St. Bernard. Lee Soo Hyuk's is a Crow.

I haven't planned out Year 6 or 7 yet but I do know that White Star quickly became a problem for everyone.

Also, during years 6 and 7, the Thames family and the Pevrell family became more important. I know I want Death to still be intertwined with White Star and the 2 families. (And yes, Death is still very much a whining child that wants either Cale or Harry to take his place like in the TCF/LCF canon)

Cage and Taylor are working at St. Mungo's Hospital. They are the ones that create the potion for Harry.

Dumbledore will answer for the bullshit he pulled - especially, for putting Harry with the Dursley's and keeping him there, whether he knew about the abuse or not. He will also answer for the whole "Sirius's missing trial" thing.

Yes, I am giving Sirius therapy. You can't expect him to take care of Harry without going through therapy first, can you? Some other kids will also get therapy through osmosis from Cale himself.

I will also explore Jour's time at Hogwarts as well - probably in a separate series, like a prequel. Also, the reason Kim Rok Soo, Choi Jung Soo, and Lee Soo Hyuk are in Britain is because their families fled Korea after the Korean War that ended in 1853. Kim Rok Soo is around 34 when Cale is starting Hogwarts, just for reference.

Cale is very mature for his age, and Kim Rok Soo kinda hates it because, to him, Cale is still a baby, and he needs to be protected. But fate said a big "Fuck You" to both of them.

This is all my brain is capable of rn. This damn thing took 2 weeks to write - because I couldn't stay and write it in one go like many of my other ideas.

So what do you think? Good? Bad? That I am high on magical mushrooms with this?

Hopefully, you had fun with my ramblings despite the length of this idea.

Either way, I hope you have a great day/night and that you take care of yourselves!

See you soon (because I need to recharge after this),

- TooManyPlotBunnies- Send Help

[adventuringblind]

Drive with you Forever

Chapter 2.1:

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Summary: Max and reader go shopping

Warnings: mentions of neglect and abuse

Notes: I was thinking of that scene from Stranger Things of Max and El in the mall while writing this.

Previous <-

Masterlist

Clothes are something that she’s never had a lot of. Hanna had taken her to get new clothes as soon as they got to Germany. It felt weird having new things. Things she got to pick out that weren’t ten sizes too big.

The store was overwhelming and she decided she didn’t particularly like shopping. She basically lived out of Seb’s old Ferrari shirts. The fact that she is now growing so much didn’t particularly help the clothing situation either. Proper nutrition means she can actually grow like a teenager should.

Max had noticed her particular hatred of the store early on. Seb had to drag her to go get new shoes after she’d worn hers so much she’d put holes in them.

That’s why he started offering to go with her. Maybe it was just to many unknown people. Maybe she didn’t know how to navigate the world of fashion.

Max went with the Vettle family the next time she had outgrown her clothes. So much to the point she was wearing his. It did nothing to help the crush he had on her that was growing at a steady pace. That pace is more rapid than he would like.

They went early in the morning to hopefully avoid people. She’s still shaking despite the lack of crowds.

“Can we go look around?” Max asks Seb. A hit of mischief swirls on his features.

Seb is a little hesitant. If only because leaving a fifteen and seventeen year old to their own devices is scary enough, and Max tends to make some impulsive decisions. Hanna instead gives them the go-ahead. “Just don’t do anything Seb would do, and you’ll be fine.” The older male feigns a look of hurt as Max drags the poor girl away.

“To look at clothes, obviously.”

“Where are we going?” Her voice is everything to him. She’s so quiet and gentle. He’d settled a few months into knowing her that if anyone were to ever hurt her, he would consider murder.

She groans. Max’s baggy t-shirt hangs loosely from her torso. As much as he’d love her to be in his clothes all the time, his dad may wonder why all his clothes are going. A conversation he would like to avoid having for now.

"One day maybe you can share my clothes, but for now you still need your own." Max can't help but notice the light blush that tints her cheeks at his words.

"I don't like it here."

"Mind telling me why?"

"Well..." She hesitates. As if debating whether or not to tell him. "It's just that every time my dad went to the store he brought back, uh -" She cringes.

Max squeezes her hand in reassurance. "I get it. But now we're going to make the store less scary."

Max drags her around racks of clothing. Nothing crazy, she looks at t-shirts three sizes too big and exclusively jeans made on soft materials.

"Now we get to try things on."

She reels backward away from him. Frantically shaking her head no. "It's small in there." He assumes she means the size of the normally cramped dressing rooms.

He thinks for a moment, doing his best to find a solution. "I think I have an idea."

~

When she woke up this morning, she didn't picture herself sitting outside the male dressing rooms.

Max has taken it upon himself to try on the clothes for her. Every few minutes, he comes out in a new T-shirt that actually fits him and jeans that definitely don't.

It's funny to watch, and she can't help but giggle every time he comes out in a different set of clothing.

"I think I pull this look of quite well!"

She laughs hysterically at the comment. Max looks like he can hardly move. "Max I- I think I want to try things on."

His eyes light up at her suggestion. Proud of himself for making dressing rooms seem less scary. "How about I walk you in since nobody else is here, and then I'll be right outside if you need me."

The next hour ensues a great many things. Namely, both of them are trying on weird outfits they put together and clothes that are definitely lacking in comfort. Both kids are out of breath when Hanna and Seb find them.

"I take it you two are having fun?" Seb laughs at the ridiculous clothing them have on. The girl shakes her head yes with vigor. "As great as that is, did you find anything you can actually wear?"

She points to the neatly folded stack of clothing. Seb and Hanna sigh in what she assumes is relief.

"Meet us at the register in a half hour, yes?"

"Yes, sir." Max nods his head towards Seb. When the two are out of view, they keel over once again in laughter.

Dressing rooms become much less scary after that. Mostly because Max goes with her every time and dillegently guards outside in case she needs help.

~

[cazort]

I've seen a small number of people on Tumblr advocating for voting for Jill Stein, the green party candidate, and a lot of them seem to take for granted the idea that she is better than Harris. None of them really make a convincing case for her, they just seem to assume that she is, particularly on the issue of Palestine.

But here's the thing. I don't even think she's a good candidate. Like I consider her borderline unacceptable, whereas I consider Harris to be a genuinely good candidate. It's bad enough that if I were in a state like Maine or Alaska that had ranked choice, I'm not even sure I would rank Jill Stein above Kamala Harris.

Why don't I like Jill Stein?

Inexperience. She has only held one political office, the town meeting (like city council) of Lexington, MA, a city with population under 35,000. This community is an extremely affluent community that leans very far left; in 2020 nearly 81% of the community voted for Biden and under 17% for Trump. Interestingly, in this own community where she served as a local elected official, in her 2016 run she still only got 1.3% of the vote, so she isn't even popular in the one place she has the most experience. She has never held state- or national political office and she has lost every other election she has run in. Her lack of experience is related both to her ability to win (people are unlikely to vote for someone who lacks experience) and her ability to do the job if she were to win. And it's not unrealistic for independents and third-party candidates to get elected to bigger offices. There have always been a few in US congress and it would be more attainable to get into a state congress; a few green party members have done this recently: Shane Robinson served in the MD state house until 2019, Henry Bear and Ralph Chapman in Maine. One, Fred Smith, even got elected in Arkansas as a green party candidate although he later changed back to a Democrat. The point is that there are even people in her party who are more experienced.

Disregard for the consequences of her actions. She threw at least one national election, the 2016 Presidential election, for Trump, and we are still suffering the consequences. Jill Stein's actions contributed to outcomes including the loss of abortion rights, all sorts of horrible environmental consequences, all sorts of negative consequences for immigrants, and a long list of other problems. This scenario is fully preventable; it could be prevented for instance by calling on your followers to only vote for you in states with ranked choice and non-swing states, and then giving a conditional endorsement of the next-best candidate and calling on your supporters to vote for them in swing states that lack ranked choice. She could have made this call and prevented the calamity we lived through, but she didn't. This shows great irresponsibility.

Age. She is already getting very old; she is currently 74 which is only 7 years younger than Biden and 4 years younger than Trump. Age was one of my biggest objections to Biden, was a big factor in me disliking Trump, and is a major reason I think Harris is a big improvement. And Jill Stein is much closer to Trump and Biden in age than Harris. Age is a big concern for me because older people are likely to be or become out-of-touch on many issues and also may experience cognitive decline.

Platform. Jill Stein's platform is objectively worse (and weaker) than the national/global green party's platform. One of my favorite things about the green party is that they tend to take a systems approach to environmentalism, through things like carbon tax which work with the market rather than against it. In countries where the green party has a significant number of seats in the legislature, like Germany where they control 117/733 seats in the Bundestag, they often end up cooperating with pro-business parties like Libertarians and even the center-right party on some issues, and this makes them better able to achieve their goals. But Stein takes a more stereotypically liberal "tax and spend" and regulatory approach making her not much different from the mainstream of the Democratic party in this regard. I.e. she supported the "green new deal" which is supported by many Democrats and to some degree by nearly all Democrats. This approach makes it less likely she would be able to appeal to and/or cooperate with moderates and independents.

Lack of a realistic plan to win. There is a realistic path for an idealistic third-party candidate to win the presidency, and it is through getting ranked choice implemented in more states first, thus removing the spoiler effect. And it particularly through embracing TVR (total vote runoff) over IRV (Instant Runoff Voting, which Alaska and Maine use currently.) Jill Stein hasn't even mentioned TVR, and although she has voiced support for ranked choice, it is not a point that she emphasizes particularly strongly. She is not active in the Fair Vote movement which is the largest movement to implement ranked choice in most states. To me, this sends the message that she's not really in it to win, she's just here to make a statement.

She's not a serious candidate, not a good candidate, and not an acceptable candidate.

I don't say this lightly, but I think that if I wanted to, I could mount a more successful third-party campaign for the presidency than she has. I think I would be a better candidate for president than she is. And I think I could make a more realistic path towards those goals than she has.

And I don't even think I'm particularly good. I know other people who could probably even do a better job than me. This is not saying I or these other people would be good candidates. It's more saying how I just see Jill Stein as being inadequate.

And this is why I think Jill Stein is a really lousy candidate. She is not the idealistic third-party candidate to break us out of the two-party system.

And when you see this, you see that all the people pushing her as "the only good candidate" are really pushing anti-vote propaganda. They are trying to manipulate the left into throwing the election.

This election cycle we have a legitimately good candidate: Harris. She ticks all the boxes. She is younger than Biden. She is more progressive yet while being rooted in reality enough to bring in moderates. She has called for a ceasefire in Palestine, and has been critical enough that she's attracted ire and backlash from the Israeli hardliner and AIPAC-funded crowd. And her track record as Attorney General when you start scrutinize it, is surprisingly and refreshingly good. Go look it up and see for yourself.

[aphfanficwriters]

Monthly Members' Fics — Jul 2024

Life for a Life by dysphoriahighschool (America/Canada) Matthew travels to Scarlet Hollow, North Carolina for his aunt's funeral and to comfort the cousin he'd never met. Matthew's mom had left the town years ago and hated the place as much as she missed it. As he gets closer to uncovering the town's secrets, Matthew thinks he's understanding why, but a deal with a ghost might end up putting a stop to his investigation.

The Next Me by Anonymous (Germany & Prussia) This is important, listen, listen now—I don't care about how late it is.

Witch of the Wood by Skoati (Ketzexi) (nyo!America/England) Amelia gets accused of witchcraft.

Don't think twice it's alright by Mossy_man (America/Canada/Russia) Meet your nemesis and fuck? Sounds like good idea.

Take me in your mind, love by Mossy_man (Russia/Turkey) Ivan follows a beautiful stranger home.

Making Up for Lost Time by Delgumo (nyo!America/Canada) After being separated as small children, Matthew and Amelia reconnect.

Breaking the Dragon Head — Chapter 4 by NashTea (Fishandnear) (China/Russia) Set against the backdrop of illegal and deprave scientific advancement, where debauchery runs rampant; Ivan Braginsky, inner circle member of a secret criminal organisation dubbed as "World Meeting" have finally made his move onto the founder, Wang Yao. Ivan seeks to crack apart everything Wang Yao strive to hide and destroy in his past, haunting him as the ghost he have forgotten. Disgruntled associates forcibly recruited under Ivan's team have started stirring too, waiting for just the right time to bring Ivan down. Mafia AU - Rochu

fly a diamond night by Tentaculiferous (France/Liechtenstein, Liechtenstein/Switzerland, one-sided France/Switzerland) In the Kingdom of Diamonds, everyone's role, whether a lowly two or the highest King, is set in stone by fate immutable. So is one's innate nature as a submissive, dominant, or switch. Basch, with his prickly personality and dislike of following others' orders, is a poor choice for a sub. The fates must have been drunk when they assigned his nature. But when his hoarder tendencies get to be too much, his submissive nature may prove useful for once.

And the crown tumbles down by Tentaculiferous (America/England) Political power lost, shackled to an obnoxious and despicable king, Arthur spirals a bit. But a mind can be a terribly fun thing to lose.

Up there came a flower by Tentaculiferous (America/England, Canada/England) One of a Queen's most sacred duties is to provide their kingdom with little princes and princesses. But Arthur has passed year after year without managing to conceive a child. He's sick of the gossip and snickers and sneers, and of his flat belly. He's had enough: his barren years are ending now. If King Alfred can't provide an heir, maybe his brother can.