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miraculous-ninjabird · 4 years ago

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@ezlikessharks and I did another collab and this is my half of it!

You can find his half here

And the fic on AO3 here

Title: Communication

Rating: G there is 1 swear word but that’s it

Words: 1511

Kai+Nya+Lloyd sibling fluff

Lloyd isn’t really sure what he’s watching. Nya and Kai are sitting across from each other, and they seem to be communicating. Though it’s not any kind of communication that Lloyd is familiar with. There is lots of head tilting and subtle hand gestures. In addition to that, they are firing back and forth in a language that he was also unfamiliar with. If Lloyd didn’t know any better, he would have said they were using the Old Tongue. Except that was impossible because nobody spoke the Old Tongue anymore. Kai makes an aggressive gesture, and Nya throws her hands in the air.

“You take that back!” She huffs. Kai laughs.

“No way! I meant what I said. Totally true.”

Nya shoves her chair back and storms out of the room. When she pushes her way past Lloyd, he can hear her muttering about ‘good for nothing older brothers’. The whole time Kai is still cackling.

….What in the First Master’s name had he just witnessed?

Over the next week or so, Lloyd keeps one eye on the two of them. It turns out what he had witnessed wasn’t just a one off occurrence. Nya and Kai seemed to have a whole language worked out. He noticed that they actually seemed to use it the most on missions or during combat. That explained why they always seemed to be so in sync. All it took was a tilt of the head and a precise movement of the hand from Nya, and Kai was off. Or a single unfamiliar word combined with a sweeping wave has Nya leaping to Kai’s aid, working together like they are one person. The whole thing was very impressive. Lloyd couldn’t help but feel left out.

Why didn’t he know about this secret language? Wasn’t he part of their family too? That’s what Kai and Nya always told him anyways. So why did he feel like he was being excluded? Was he supposed to ask about it? Or was it something he was just supposed to figure out on his own? Or maybe it was so special to them they didn’t want to share it?

What to do, What to do? On one hand, he wanted to know what it was all about. Really, really badly. On the other hand, Lloyd didn’t want to intrude on something potentially private. He tended to steer clear of anything that could cause conflict between him and his siblings. The dynamic wasn’t new by any stretch of the imagination, but he still feared being too nosey could drive them away. That was the opposite of what he wanted.

Another two weeks pass, and Lloyd’s curiosity eventually wins out. At least partially. He runs a finger along the titles lining the shelves in Wu’s library, looking for something specific. It takes a while, but he does eventually find the book he is looking for. Plucking it from the shelf, he smiles. This should have some of the answers he’s looking for. With the intent to retreat to his room and study it, he tucks it under his arm. Just as he steps out the library door, Kai comes charging down the hall at full speed. Nya is hot on his tail.

“Out of my way!” Kai shrieks, attempting to skid to a halt. It’s no use. His socks get no traction on the polished wood floors and he slams right into Lloyd at full speed. The two of them go crashing to the ground in a heap. Lloyd’s book goes sailing right into Nya’s waiting grasp. Which would have been impressive except for the fact that Nya is also unable to stop in time and ends up tripping over the two of them. She lands heavily on his back and Lloyd lets out a gasp as all the air goes rushing out of his lungs.

“You know? We really should have better reflexes considering we’re all supposed to be ninja,” Kai mumbles.

“I caught the book. That has to count for at least something,” Nya counters.

“Yeah, but you’re still here on the floor so any points you earned from that are automatically deducted,”

“No way! That’s not how that works at all. Lloyd! Tell Kai I’m right!

“How about instead of that, you stop arguing and Get Off,” Lloyd grunts, struggling to catch his breath.

“Shit. Right.” Kai scrambles to his feet. He offers Lloyd a hand, which he gladly takes as soon as Nya lifts her weight off him.

“We didn’t think anybody would be over here. Sorry.” Nya grins sheepishly.

“I’m sure I can come up with a way for you to make it up to me,” Lloyd assures, dusting himself off. “Can I have my book back?”

“Oh, sure! What’s it for anyways?” Nya asks, handing it back. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you read anything that wasn’t a picture book.”

“First, that's offensive. They’re comic books. Not picture books. And second, I do too read book-books! It’s not my fault you never pay attention. This one is about the Old Tongue. I wanted to learn more about it” Lloyd puffs, trying to hide his embarrassment at getting ‘caught’. He’d just been curious to see if that was the language they were using. He wasn’t planning on telling them about his research. His siblings don’t seem to notice his internal struggle.

“The Old Tongue?” Kai perks up. “If you want to learn about that, Nya and I can help. We both speak it and I can guarantee learning from one of us will be way more interesting than whatever that book has to say.”

“Wait, you mean to tell me you actually know how to speak it?”

“Fluently,” Nya confirms. The book slips out of his hand, clattering to the floor. That was not what he was expecting to hear. Just because that was his theory didn’t mean he thought it would be true.

“Where in hell did you learn how to speak that?” He reaches down to collect the book. “I thought it was a dead language?”

“It’s not as dead as you might think. It’s not common, per say, but we grew up around enough people who spoke it that we both know it,” Nya explains. “In fact, it’s the first language I ever remember using.”

“When we were younger, we would use it to talk without others knowing what we were saying. But it was common enough the two of us ended up developing another, separate little system based on it instead.” Kai adds. Lloyd feigns surprise. This was his chance to ask about their secret language!

“You made up a secret sibling language?”

“Yeah! Would you like to learn?”

Lloyd’s heart soars, excitement coursing through his veins. Of course he wanted to learn!

“Yes!” He blurts a little too quickly. Kai raises a single eyebrow and heat rushes to his face. “I actually noticed something about a month ago. I wanted to ask you about it but it felt weird. I thought maybe it was private or something and I didn’t want to offend you or something. So I was going to try and watch you to figure it out on my own...that’s what the book was for.”

“Wow Lloyd. Way to make things sound weird” Nya teases gently.

“In all seriousness though, you should have said something.” Kai drops an arm over Lloyd’s shoulder. “It never really occurred to me to show you. Nothing against you. We don’t have an issue teaching you, right Nya?”

“Nope. Kai here doesn’t think much, obviously, but I’ve been planning to show you for awhile now. We’ve been busy and there hasn’t been a good time. That's all.”

“Excuse me?” Kai gasps. Lloyd giggles at his indigent expression.

“You can’t be offended when it’s true.” he points out. Nya smiles smugly

“Ganging up on me? So unfair. You’re both such ungrateful brats.” They all stare at each other for a moment, before bursting into laughter.

“Alright then! Are you ready for this?” Nya asks once they get themselves under control.

“Totally,” Lloyd nods, trying to keep his excitement under control.

“Sweet! We can start right now. Let’s go back to my room,” Kai begins leading them back through the monastery. As he does, he starts explaining. “The language itself is only a very small part of it. Hand signals are the important part. So I’ll show you some of those first…”

Kai’s explanation was confusing at best, and Nya often had to jump in and clarify. By the time an hour had passed, Lloyd was no closer to understanding than he had been at the beginning. Turns out things were even more complicated than he had originally thought. Learning was going to take some time.

Despite the setbacks, he can’t help the stupid grin that stays stuck on his face for the rest of the day. Quality time with his siblings was always something he looked forward to, and he was going to appreciate every moment of it. This was going to be fun.

#ninjago #kai smith #nya smith #lloyd garmadon #the smith siblings #malcolm’s writing #Ez is so fun to work with!!#I had a great time on this

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ambersky0319 · 5 years ago

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Cinomed Chronicles : The Rulers

Masterpost

Chapters : Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three |

Summary : In the far off world of Fandahli are kingdoms, most peaceful. But on one continent, Vola, two kingdoms are fighting a war that seems never-ending with both rulers constantly at a sword’s end. And on Earth, where things seem to be going well for everyone, one young woman suffers a torture worse than death. Another woman not far away waits for death, all hope gone until a spark ignites her will to fight once more. It isn’t long until their tales intertwine.

Taglist : Haha- no one reads my original content but if you’re interested in this story I’ll gladly make one!

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Not an effort-filled picture but it sums up this chapter- dear god help her

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To say that people were overworking themselves to please the Hayes family was an understatement.

Always rushing around the halls, servants bending backwards to keep their visitors happy. It was astounding to Evanna how quickly the mood in her kingdom shifted, even if it happened annually. The chefs were doing their best to make the food perfect and every time the words ‘your majesty’ left someone’s mouth while addressing Evanna, she felt like a new layer of dirt coated her skin.

She needed to keep the smile though, she refused to let it slip. When the King and Queen of Hayes - the rulers of the largest kingdom in Vola - visited you, you have them nothing but smiles and anything they asked. All the smaller kingdoms knew that messing with them would have been a grave mistake, quite possibly the last mistake they'd get the chance to make.

But within the walls of her study, she was safe. Enchanted long ago by one of her ancestors, only she could enter unless specific permission had been granted. Even in her room people would waltz in to tell her about some news, constant guards needing a decision to be made. Her study was untouchable in comparison.

Evanna poured herself over books, skimming their titles until she found the proper one. Some so old their covers could break if pulled too swiftly off the shelf, others new with the font shining harshly in the soft candlelight. Sometimes, if she felt enough inspiration, she'd add to her own books. Evanna filled the pages with poems, some long and some short.

Seldom able to visit her beloved escape, Evanna cherished her time there more than ever. Even if it was for only a short time. If she managed to read or write one line, she felt at ease.

There was a knock at the study's door, the sound echoing through the bookshelves and only making her headache worse. Still she rose to her feet, the knock anything but unfamiliar. Pulling a smile she could only imagine to look as forced as she thought, Evanna answered.

She slipped out and let the door click shut behind her, meeting Gideon's gaze for the twentieth time in the past few hours. "Your Majesty, if I may, why do you only choose to try and find me when I find time for a break?"

The King laughed, just as loud as about anything else he did. Evanna pretended to laugh along, before her smile faltered a bit. "But really, what is it that I can help you with?"

"It's the guards, they refuse to let us see the Traitor this year."

Evanna's smile disappeared completely, and she folded her arms over her chest. She still felt weird, not wearing the light but tight metal armor.

"As they should. No one but the royal chef, Erin, and myself are permitted to speak with him."

"Was it not different last year?"

"That was last year, your Majesty. A lot can change in one year." Evanna clamped her hands together. "I apologize that you cannot actually see Kendle today. But you should start getting excited, the hanging's in two days after all."

The words slipping past her lips burned, tasting of ash worse than what lingered outside. Evanna hated the fact that she needed to encourage people to be excited for the Hanging. She frowned, glancing around at the lack of guards. "Where are they all? They normally don't leave their posts without instruction."

"They went to help the rest of Tongyi in the festivities." The King held his head high, a sense of pride radiating off him. "Under my instruction, after all. They needed to stretch their wings."

Evanna really, truly wished it wasn't Kendle they'd be hanging in a few days.

"Very well then," her smile was tight and her voice strained slightly, "if you'll excuse me, I must go get-"

Bells ringing drowned out the rest of her words, a confused and almost pained look appearing on Gideon's face as they chimed louder and louder. Then silence swiftly followed, and Evanna rushed past the king to her room just down the hall. He was hot on her tail.

"What's happening? Oh stars I can still hear those blasted bells-"

"Stay. Here." Evanna was suddenly in her armor, having it on faster than any guard Gideon had ever seen. Her sword glinted dangerously as she opened the nearest window. "And for once, actually listen!"

Before Gideon knew it, Evanna had flung herself from the castle, wings extending and she disappeared from his sight.

She looked over the kingdom, looking for where they’d been attacked. Evanna’s heart pounded in her ears. No one ever told Gideon what to do, but she had little faith in his combat techniques. The queen cursed under her breath, finding no new breach in the walls and no guards. No Sadian was in sight, nor any other scouts or soldiers from other kingdoms. Evanna however did see a child be pulled into a nearby house, and she landed in front of it. The bells had stopped chiming - whoever had shot the warning arrows was nowhere to be seen - and instead a silence cascaded over her small kingdom.

She knocked on the door, sword gripped almost too tightly in her hand. Her shoulders already ached, her legs prickling as medicine wore off.

Of course, Evanna thought almost bitterly as she knocked again. Need to keep up with it.

The door opened with a creak, and an elder Dali peaked out at the queen. She blinked almost owlishly at Evanna, noticing how the younger woman was becoming impatient.

“Ah, my queen!” She finally cried, her eyes seeming to widen more. “Is- Is he gone yet? Did they get ‘em?”

“Get who?” Evanna opened the door further, casting a glance down the street just in case. “And where are all the guards?” The elder opened her mouth, before being cut off by a sudden wail from inside. She left the doorstep immediately to aid, cooing softly at the child. Evanna huffed silently. “Mara! Where are my guards? I heard the bell and-”

“Your majesty! Please!” Evanna jumped as a young man appeared beside her, dozens of blankets bundled in his arms. “Keep your voice down, no one knows that we’re all here, alright? And we just got the babies to sleep.” He closed the door, effectively trapping Evanna inside with them. Then he passed off the blankets before giving all his attention to Evanna. “The guards are all after the Traitor, as well as whoever broke him out.”

“Kendle escaped?” Evanna hissed, despite any relief she would have normally felt, she knew Kendle was not one to just let out of your sight. “Surly someone saw him leave the dungeons.”

The man shrugged, hugging himself and casting a solemn look at the quieting child. “Mama Mara was the only one around, and then there was an explosion in the forest and some shouts and all the guards left- y’know, since most are still in the medical ward healing. Mama Mara can’t seem to recall who it was, though. I’m sorry.”

“Which way did they go?”

He frowned. “My queen, you cannot seriously be thinking of-”

“Tell me where they went. That’s an order.”

“East,” he sighed.

Evanna was out the door within seconds, taking off once more. She squinted, seeing no smoke towards east. However there wasn’t any smoke in any other direction either. A shiver shot up her spine as the sun began to dip behind the horizon, painting the land gold.

"Great," she muttered, "just great." After dark, she knew they wouldn't be able to return home. No one ever made it back after dark until the next morning, sometimes they just never came back.

After flying for a short time, she heard distant shouts and flew closer to the canopies. The sun was sinking faster and faster below that distant line. The voices got louder and louder but it was clear it wasn't all the guards that left.

She just hoped they'd turned back.

Evanna tucked her wings in and covered her face as she dove into the treetops, catching herself on a branch. Peering down at who were arguing, her voice caught in her throat.

Kendle, tied up and screaming at the top of his lungs. A small fire not far away- a camp. And then four of her guards, two arguing, one watching over the escapee, and the other had his hands clamped over his ears. Evanna squinted at the supposedly deranged man, wings clamped to his sides. Tears streamed down his face as he ripped his vocal chords.

"He's coming! Thanks to you he's coming! It's all your fault! He's coming!" Kendle choked out another sob, shaking his head frantically. "He's coming…"

Kendle spotted Evanna, eyes widening at the sight of her. He fell silent. Evanna jumped from her branch, landing with just a small thud. Her gaze flicked to the guards, the arguing two having also fallen silent. All four watched Evanna as she crouched in front of Kendle, reduced to a shaking mess of tears.

"Hey Kendle…" Evanna's voice was soft, the tone you'd use to calm a distraught child. The guards took a step forward, then another, only halting as Evanna raised a hand. Kendle bowed his head, clamping his mouth shut in an attempt to silence himself.

"Your- You- My queen, I'm- help-"

She shushed him lightly. "Deep breaths." Evanna placed her hand on his shoulder, rubbing lightly. He melted under her touch - how long had it been since anyone had even come near him? - and took deep breaths, still trembling violently.

"Now, relax. Okay? You'll feel better." He nodded slowly, looking up through his bangs. She brushed his hair aside, moving to sit beside him. "Whenever you're ready, you can explain, alright?" Kendle nodded again, his wings twitching slightly.

"Your Majesty, why are you being nice to this… this traitor?" The guard's voice was young and hushed as they gazed upon Evanna and Kendle quietly.

Evanna didn't even look away from their prisoner. "Kendle-" she stressed his name, "-is still Dali. Traitor or not. Besides, if we ever want information, we need him calm."

One of them snorted. "This guy? Calm?" Evanna ignored him, instead she moved her hand to rub at the joints between his wings.

Kendle's spine straightened at the contact, before he slumped into Evanna's side. She cooed gently. "You all must be tired. Sleep."

"But what about-"

"I'll take first watch, everyone just rest up, alright?"

"Yes, my Queen."

Like a young child, Kendle had fallen into a deep slumber in seconds. Evanna's skin crawled at the thought of putting this young man to death. And for what? She never knew. It was always the people that chose who would be that year's Traitor. Her guards were more hesitant to sleep, deciding to lay down on the opposite side of the campfire.

Evanna exhaled slowly, feeling the stabbing pain that shot through her shoulders. Kendle began to shake in his sleep, curling further into her side and under her wing. It was going to be a long night.

She had only gotten an hour of sleep by the time the sun began to rise. The fire had dwindled until it was nothing but ash, and the only one to wake up during the night was Kendle.

He shifted against the tree, a light groan escaping him, stomach twisting tightly as hunger raked through his body. Kendle squinted at Evanna, who had moved away from him in favor of stretching her wings out. He bowed his head again, feeling the rope burn his tanned skin.

"My queen, he's coming. Surly you know. He's coming on my death day- he will not hold back." Evanna frowned at his words, looking back and tilting her head.

"Who's coming?"

Kendle swallowed thickly, his mouth dry. "You don't know…?" Evanna shook her head. His eyes grew wide. "No, no no no no no. That… that's not good. Oh stars that is not good."

"Uh, Kendle?" He snapped his head up, eyes brimming with tears. Evanna crouched in front of him. "What's not good about who coming?"

"I can't- if, if I say he'll kill me."

"You're already going to die, Kendle. People want to see you hanged. What can be worse than that?"

He shook his head and made an attempt to reach out, grasp her shoulders, but failed as the rope rubbed harshly against his skin. "So much- so much is worse than hanging…"

"Fine," Evanna sighed. "You don't need to tell me who's coming. But who let you out?"

Kendle remained quiet for a moment. "Why was I thrown in there in the first place?"

"Huh?"

"The cell- why did they even- Jonah!" Kendle lit up suddenly, jolting in his restraints. "That's why I escaped! Jonah- where's that boy? I didn't see him leave. My queen, where's Jonah?"

"Jonah…?"

"Or for Rikki's sake!" Kendle lurched forward at Evanna, catching himself before he could collapse. "Jonah! That little… that little prince! The one with sharp teeth! That little brat let me out and then booked it-"

His shouting had finally woken her guards, and he only continued to struggle in his bonds. "Please, you must help me find him- he will make him come! Jonah is making him appear!"

"Kendle, sit back and-"

"If you say relaxed, I swear to every deity out there, you will be bitten."

"Oi! That's it, you do not threaten the queen!"

"I have a sword too, sir."

"That doesn't mean-"

"Stay out of it-"

"But he-"

"No!"

Evanna stared down the guard that had drawn his sword. The guard slowly backed off, and Evanna released her tight grip on her own weapon. Exhaling slowly she looked back to Kendle.

"This is Prince Jonah we're speaking of, yes?" Kendle nodded hurriedly. "He let you out."

"Moments after an-"

"-explosion?"

"Yes! Yes! I never said I wanted out! The boy claimed he could let me out and then the guards were hot on our trail, and it was nearing dark and then they caught me but I couldn't see Jonah and then you appeared and… and…" Kendle shook his head, hands starting to shake. "Please, we must find him. He will make everything so much worse."

The guards stared on in utter disbelief as Evanna got to her feet. "I'll find the prince. You four," she barely even blinked at the guards, "make sure Kendle gets back to the castle. In one piece. And give him food. Understood?"

"Yes, your Majesty," echoed back to her. Evanna took off without another word.

In the light of the sun, it was far easier to see where the explosion had occurred. The flames had clearly been controlled since no more remained, the ash heavier than any place in Tongyi. She lowered herself over the destruction sight, wings causing a small flurry of burnt tree to fly up into the air. Evanna couldn't remember what was around this place.

She finally landed, the ground far too soft and flaky. With each step more ash blew into the air. The trees still standing were scorched black, and the ground fared no better. Evanna almost started choking on the ash when she took a deep breath.

Her skin pricked nervously when there was a small snap, clearly not a snap of a fallen branch. Hand resting on her hip, just near her sword, Evanna began her walk towards where she'd heard the sound. She tried to keep her footsteps quiet, occasionally slowing to look at something. No noise followed the small snap, none that she found out of the ordinary at least.

Her sword was drawn as she rounded the tree, fully prepared to strike. The gold faltered when a small squeal of fear greeted her, a small creature cowering away and closer to the bones of-

Oh.

She sheathed her sword, recognizing the child as a werewolf. They weren't uncommon after all, but most werewolves stayed with their clan. They were covered in ash, fur color indistinguishable. Soft whimpering escaped them as they shuffled closer to the tree.

Evanna glanced around, spotting no adult werewolf. She frowned, looking back to the pup. "Alright, um, I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Here." She removed the sword from her hip, setting it as far away as she could.

The pup still watched her in terror. Evanna let out a soft sigh. "Was… was this your village?" The pup whimpered again. "Is there anyone else?"

The young werewolf looked back to the remains of the undoubtedly older werewolf, ears drooping and tail curling around themselves. Evanna took that as a no. "Can you speak?" A nod. “Are you willing to speak?” The pup shook their head.

She looked back to the burned village. How just an explosion could have caused this she didn’t know. If she had time, she would have tried looking for more survivors. “I’m from Tongyi, do you want to come with me?”

The pup hesitated, looking over towards what Evanna could only assume to be more remains. Charred flesh doused in ash greeted her when she followed the pup’s gaze. Then they nodded, taking a careful step towards Evanna, then another.

“I’m going to carry you, alright?” Evanna reached for the pup, waiting for the nod before picking it up. It curled into her chest, smearing the ash deeper into its fur and leaving a light coat upon Evanna’s chest plate. Evanna took a slow breath, grabbing her sword once more and taking off as carefully as she could. The pup yipped as the air rushed by them, starting to shake in Evanna’s arms. She held them a bit tighter, staying relatively close to the treetops.

Finally, after almost three hours of flying as slowly and carefully as she could, Evanna landed at Tongyi’s gate. The air was still stained with ash, but it was still far better than breathing in the heavy smoke and fresh ash from the destroyed forest. Her lungs hurt, and she could only imagine how terrible the pup felt, fast asleep in her arms and coughing occasionally. Evanna’s wings ached, every movement like a dull knife stabbing into her back.

“Evanna!” She looked up, feeling the grogginess finally hit her. She cracked a smile as Erin jumped from the wall, landing in front of her without much trouble. “Where in all of Vola have you been?”

Evanna knew Erin wasn’t furious, not really - but the show he put on for their visiting monarch was quite convincing. Hands on his hips, eyes narrowed, all the while a hint of worry and excitement glinted in his eyes. The pup stirred, a small whine escaping them, and Evanna just nodded for them to head inside the kingdom. “I’ll let you know once I take care of this little one.”

“Is that a-”

“Yes, now pipe down before you wake them.”

Erin walked beside Evanna, peering at the pup curiously. He kept his voice low as they walked to the medical ward, where Evanna believed the nurses could look over the child and be sure they were still healthy. “Kendle was brought back three hours earlier, why did this take you so long?”

“Long way from the explosion to where I found Kendle and the guards,” she hummed. Erin slowly nodded, holding the door open to the medical center of Tongyi. "Hey Dolan?"

The healer in question looked up sharply, eyes widening for just a moment before narrowing. "Queen Evanna Mays the fifth, where in all of Fandahli have you been?" He snapped, snatching something off a table.

"Not relevant, just tell me out here." Evanna waved off his question, and instead placed the pup on the bed Dolan stood near. "I need you to look over this kid, make sure their lungs aren't damaged and that they haven't been injured and all that."

Dolan huffed, glancing to Erin who shrugged before turning to the pup. He took a quick step back as the werewolf began to wake up. "You brought back a werewolf. A werewolf, Evanna! You know they won't be happy!"

Evanna glared, and her voice lowered to a sharp whisper. "Their village was burned down, and as far as we know no one survived. Just listen and look over them, alright? Once they're taken care of, I'll try to see if the nearby village would be willing to take them in."

"Nope, nuh-uh. You aren't going anywhere for awhile." Erin crossed his arms, frowning at Evanna.

"And you're going to stop me?"

"Evanna darling, I'm the only one that would try to stop you." Evanna huffed softly, before finally caving. Because he was right. "Now, gonna assume you need something for pain?"

"'Scuse me?"

"Doubt you're feeling too well after that flight."

"Oh, yeah, right."

She took a seat beside the pup, who had finally woken up completely. They curled up closer to Evanna, the soot on their fur staining the sheets below it. "You're gonna be fine, kid." Evanna said gently. She carefully ran her fingers through their fur. "Trust me."

The pup whined softly, and although it trembled they let Dolan pick them up to wash them off.

Erin returned after a few moments, holding out a syringe. Evanna held out her arm for him. They were quiet for the most part as he injected the numbing serum. The medication was strong, and almost immediately she could feel her muscles begin to relax. He took a seat beside her, rubbing his eyes.

"So… you decided to just camp out with those stupid, stupid guards all night?"

"They weren't that bad, there's bound to be a brain cell in them somewhere."

"Evanna."

"They were just apprentices, if I'm correct. They'll learn how things work soon enough."

"Evanna-"

"And at least they were sensible enough to listen to me, unlike some Dali."

"They killed Kendle, Evanna."

Evanna froze mid-stretch, and she flicked her gaze over to Erin once more. "What?"

"When I said they brought him back- he was already dead."

She stared at him for a moment, before cursing loudly and booking it towards the door. "Evanna!" Erin's steps thundered behind her own as they fled from the facility.

Tongyians stared as they raced past, the last of the festival preparations being made before sundown when dragons were to start arriving. Evanna slowed at the training center, which doubled as their guard academy. Erin stopped at her side, bending over and wheezing.

"What the hell?" He yelled, throwing himself into a coughing fit. "What does it matter if they ended his life sooner rather than later?"

She ignored him, instead taking a deep breath to try and calm her racing heart. Faster and faster it beat with each passing year, it was a wonder she had yet to drop dead. He repeated his question, but instead of answering, Evanna pushed open the grand doors to the academy and strode in.

Erin groaned as he watched her wings, her shoulders just barely visible but quite clearly rigid. He glanced back in the direction of the plaza, squinting as the sun beat down on him from above. Finally he entered, following his queen up the steps to the viewing platform.

"-miracle you even survived, my dear, you really shouldn't rush out for such things!" Lyre was there, grasping Evanna's hands while looking over any exposed skin for new scars. Erin wiped the annoyance from his face at the fact she was treating Evanna almost like a child.

Evanna just allowed it to happen, her eyes not on the visiting queen but on those training below. Even from this high up the sweat could be smelled and the clashing of swords and shields echoed up to the highest floor still far above them. She seemed to be looking for someone, Erin guessed one of the guards from the previous night.

"Queen Lyre," Evanna interrupted her scolding. "Where are your sons? Prince Jonah and Dani?"

Lyre tilted her head, frowning lightly. "Actually, I don't know where Jonah is. Dani is out in the gardens with his father though. If I may ask, why?"

Evanna smiled softly, shaking her head and pressing a light kiss to Lyre's knuckles. "I was merely curious. I'll leave you to watch them train now."

"But I haven't even finished-" Evanna waved slightly before descending the stairs once more, nodding to Erin as she passed him. "Oh… is she always so difficult?" Lyre looked to Erin, almost pouting.

Erin chuckled genuinely. "No, Your Majesty. She's merely had a rough few days. Planning the entire festival yourself is no easy task." He took a step back towards the stairs. "Now, I do believe I should go with her. Have a lovely day, and hope you enjoy the festival." Erin bowed, before turning on his heel and leaving the queen alone.

She huffed softly, leaning over the rail once again. Sweeping her eyes over the crowd of Dali below, she found whom she had been watching originally. A young Tongyian with short blonde hair, almost as golden as the purist sunbeams. Lyre smiled wide, watching as the Dali fumbled once more against their training partner. She saw them hit the floor in frustration, and couldn't help but feel a spark ignite in her heart.

"Don't worry child," Lyre folded her arms over the railing, "soon enough you'll be the most powerful."

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miraculouskpop · 7 years ago

Text

MKP Series | The Beginnings

☆ Miraculous KPOP | AU Series ☆

Title: The Beginnings

Characters: Amber, Sehun, Jungkook, Jungyeon, Lisa and Jimin + Kwamis

Synopsis: Before they were ever heroes, they were simple people. A basic introduction to everyone meeting their kwami for the first time.

Words: 4941 ( yeah it’s freaking long whoops )

A/n: This will go according to the Miraculous Ladybug timeline/canon where Marionette, Adrien to Alya and eventually Chole will receive their miraculouses, and then AU listing of who receives their miraculous first.

🐞 Amber / Ladybug 🐞

Wait.... Wait.... Wait.

Something’s not processing correctly. Or is she perhaps hallucinating? Amber blinked a few times, and that thing still wouldn’t budge from its position. The moment she laid eyes on this drastically different... spotted looking creature with those freakishly huge blue eyes gazing at her, Amber had reached the deep end. She’s insane, she has finally lost her mind! She figured her intense scheduling and homesickness couldn’t be that bad, but yes, it’s severely bad. So, so bad to the point she’s literally seeing things that shouldn’t be seen.

And then, it opened its mouth.

“Hello! My name is Tikki-”

“Oh my god!” Okay, she didn’t mean to overreact like this, but it‘s rather inevitable. The thing just freaking like, opened its oddly human shaped mouth and talked to her! And she’s suppose to remain calm? The girl backed away as her mind reeled with questions, and more importantly, how to GTFO this dorm quickly and safely as possible. The thing seemed suddenly concerned by its rather worried look, “Oh, no! It’s perfectly okay! You’re safe with me.” It smiled.

Okay, what the hell is going on here? “How can you even speak? Why are you here? And what exactly are you?” Amber’s hand fell on the desk behind her, fingertips brushing against what felt like a book. She quickly grabbed the book and swung at the creature, but it missed by the margin. The thing now appeared upset with its hands- well, no, but it might as well be called hands, resting on its hips.“I would gladly answer all of your questions if you could please calm down. My name is Tikki, and I am a kwami, okay? I am a goddess the embodies the power of good luck! I am presented specifically to you because you are selected to be the next Ladybug.”

The next...”what?” How does- what, why?

“You see, remember when you helped that man from earlier today?” The question had Amber’s mind reeling back from this morning. In fact, she do recall assisting an elderly man across the street even when she was running late... “Yeah, but what does that has to do with anything?”

“You helping that person showed great consideration that most people do not have these day. He decided to select you as the next miraculous holder because of that simple act, which is why you received the earrings on your bed.” The girl glanced at the red polka dotted earrings discarded on the edge of her bed and raised an eyebrow. “Errm...great...? But I don’t even wear earrings, so...” She trailed off. C’mon, it really doesn’t fit her masculine style. She always worn majority of her clothing monotone with rusted color, and not to mention her hair doesn’t exactly compliment those earrings, anyway.

“Amber, those earrings weren’t given to you simply for no reason. You will be gifted with supernatural abilities far greater than you can fathom!” Wait. How does this thing- okay, kwami or whatever, knows her name? “Well, I can give them to Krystal or Sulli. They’ll love it, and I’m just a simple girl who’s trying to survive life right now.” A fleeting thought made Amber pause. Abilities? This was already surreal enough as it is, but becoming a superhero? That’s one of her hidden desires she’d kill for whenever she’s reading Marvel comics. Imagine that, a rookie girl like herself trying to attain fame while adjusting to a new country and trying to maintain her own identity while fighting crime. Sounds like an interesting plotline, but still, none of this makes sense and everything’s happening all too suddenly.

“Amber...” The kwami flew towards her so abruptly that the poor girl nearly went cross-eyed. “This is serious. This is not a dream, nor a hallucination. I am a hundred percent real as any other person with the exception that I am not a human being.”

...She must’ve lost it.

“No Amber, you did not lose anything. In fact, I believe taking the role as a new Ladybug will greatly boost your confidence level as a person and find characteristics that you yourself might be surprised by!” Everything felt too unrealistic to be considered as definite truth, and yet the more Amber thought about it, the more she felt curious. However, within the midst of curiosity held deep reluctance. She wasn’t exactly popular by male standards and many people were not fond of her presence... Accepting this offer will only add more responsibilities and insanity to her already chaotic life.

Even so, the child within herself sprang free at the possibility of being more than average. Someone... important. With a sigh, Amber folded her arms and gave the ladybug a careful look, “Okay, fine.” She said, “I have no idea what’s going on and I can’t say I believe you at the moment, but uh, I’ll pretend that I do.” She’s hoping to wake up an minute now... any minute...

“Great! I’ll tell you all about it. But first, you need to wear those earrings.”

“No.”

“Amber...! You have to wear the earrings.”

“Over my dead body. Do I look like an ultra feminine Sailor Moon to you?” Amber showcased her point by flashing her rugged black hoodie, cap and shorts.

“Why would it matter when inner beauty is key?”

“...No.”

“You won’t be able to transform until you wear them.”

“Well, I can have my roommate wear them unless really needed.” She didn’t want to deal with the hassle of wearing accessories. It’s already painful enough being coated with pounds of foundation and makeup... “Devastation is near, and if we allow him to destroy the country then it’s only a matter of time before he conquers the entirety of this world!” Tikki exclaimed. Although too many questions invaded the girl’s mind, but she didn’t allow the thoughts to fester as she slowly placed each earring into her ears with a dreaded sigh.

“Okay, fine... what now?”

“Oh Amber, this is a wonderful progression! I am so happy you have accepted your new role as Ladybug. Let me explain that in order to activate the miraculous is to call me by my name, and say, “Spots on!” And I’ll transfer into the earrings to give you power.” Amber pursed her lips in thought.

“So, you want me to say it now?” Her roommates and managers is literally across the room, and here she is talking to a mystical ladybug? Okay. Tikki nodded eagerly, “It would be the first stepping stone to greater things. I’m sorry for rushing you, but I thought maybe this way could influence you...”

“Sure, I guess.” She felt a little embarrassed about this, but...”Tikki, spots on...- woah!” Amber didn’t get the chance to blink before a streak of red zipped across the room and into her small pair of red earrings.

🐺 Sehun / Wolf 🐺

He’s tired. Very tired. So tired it feels like sleep is clinging onto his body similar to that of hungry leeches. All he wanted to do is plop onto the bedsheets and pass out, but he knew his manager would not approve of him sleeping without at least taking a shower. Well, it’s not like he usually sleep without showing regardless. But whatever. God, what time is it, anyways? Sehun glanced at the clock and nearly did a double take. Crap, is it eleven o’clock already? He could’ve done other things if it wasn’t for his hyungs nagging him to stay...

The boy closed the door behind him with a sigh. His baggy clothes felt suddenly sticky and wet along with his stringy bleak hair falling between his face.

Ew.

A loud growl rippled through Sehun’s stomach as he frowned. Neither did he realize how hungry he was until he walked towards the kitchen in absolute happiness, only to then find the refrigerator completely empty. “Great...” Sehun grumbled as he closed the refrigerator door, then whipped out his cell to send his hyungs a text to pick up some more food. He checked the cabinets to find a few packets of ramen noodles stashed near the corner, so it’ll have to do for now. In the meantime, he should probably prepare for bed. After quick shower, the young boy went to the kitchen to prepare some ramen. While waiting for the water to boil, Sehun gazed at his cell phone for any response from his friends. Well, guess he say former friends now. After being scouted by SM and accepting their offer, none of his friends have been supportive of the decision, and perhaps it wasn’t the best choice he made. Even so, Sehun figured that maybe it’ll all work out in the end.

Guess not.

He didn’t mean to cause a rift within the friendships, but none of his friends had responded to him lately, so... it kind of hurts. Maybe this is his entire fault. He just wanted to be something more than...- nevermind. He sat his cellphone on the countertops and snatched the black box laying idly on the table. He happened to find it on his bed this morning and never bothered to opened it. Perhaps one of his hyungs gave it to him as a gift? Curiosity peaked his interest as he opened the box.

It’s a watch. Looks pretty neat. Sehun looked at the object a little more until a flash of bright light blinded him. With a high pitched squeak the teenager dropped the box. What was that? Did a light bulb blowed? He felt a little embarrassed for responding rather... badly, but the moment he glanced at the counter something completely grasped his attention.

Wolf. Thing. Flying?

No. Nevermind.

...And yet Sehun cannot look away.

It’s staring at him with those bright yellow eyes. Nope. Not real- “are you going to continue staring at me like that or do I have to introduce myself?”

“What the absolute fuc-”

“Ah ah ah...” The thing tsked, “No swearing within the perimeter of my presence, please.” Did- did it just talk? Sehun gawked at the flying animal thing as fear suddenly gripped him tightly. He couldn’t move, and even if he wanted to speak no words seemed to utter from his mouth.

“Let’s get things settle here. My name is Apollo, and I am a kwami god gifted with tremendous power of power and protection. I shall be your new guardian since you have opened the box. And that,” it pointed at the watch, “Will be your new miraculous to wear in order to transform into the appropriate hero.”

...What?

“W-what- why are you talking?!” OhmygodIamseeingshitwhatthehellisgoingon- “This is a trick, right? Someone’s pulling my leg...”

“No legs are pulled here, child.”

“Why are you talking!”

“Am I not allowed to speak?”

“No! I mean, I don’t even know what you are-”

“I just stated that I am a kwami.”

“Like I know what the hell that is!”

“Perhaps if you opened your mind and closed your mouth, then you can finally comprehend my words.” The thing ( yes, thing. ) retorted. Sehun felt immediate irritation creeping on him the longer he stood. This is severe amount of BS someone did, and whoever the person is Sehun hopes that person’s ass gets kicked to another dimension.

“We kwamis are presented to people who carry heroic qualities about themselves. Well, unfortunately, not all of the kwamis per-say, but most of us. However, there are people who abuse kwamis for self gratification, so that is why the master guardian shields all miraculouses from the public.”

“Okay, great, nice, but can you find someone else to harass? I’m trying to eat and go to bed, so-.” A second later, the wolf thing hovered directly in front of Sehun with its topaz eyes searing into his soul, “You. Are. Appointed.” It emphasized its husky voice on each word, “Do you honestly believe I am going to waste my infinite time with an obnoxious human being like yourself? Please, if that’s the case then I would’ve been freed from this unnecessary obligation!” It barked, “But of course, I have my mandated responsibilities just like you humans do, and so, it is not an option for you to reject me.”

“What are you saying?” Why does it feel normal talking to this thing? The thing released a long drawn out sigh. It backed away from Sehun slowly and stood on the table, “Me Apollo. Me a kwami. I give powers. This? MIR-AC-ULOUS...” Sehun growled. This piece of crap is obviously insulting his intelligence, isn’t it? “Okay, whatever, stop it.”

“I’ll cease to belittle your minuscule intelligence once you grasp the basics of communication. Oh, and by the way... do you happen to have tea? Goodness, after decades of being trapped in that miraculous I’m rather famished!” It flew in and out of the cabinets until a box of green tea packets fell on top of Sehun’s head.

And here they are at the table with a bowl of ramen and a cup of tea. How did this even happen? Honestly, at this point Sehun cannot even remember...

“So, that watch is actually some mystically enhanced jewelry piece?”

“Ah, not quite. Most jewelry pieces are small and dainty. I take pride of this watch! An enormous progression of history if I must say so myself.”

“Right... I’m going to be a...?”

“Miraculous wielder and protector of other active miraculouses. An occurring through divine or supernatural intervention, or manifesting such power. ”

“Kind of like a shounen hero?”

“Whatever you see fit.” The kwami, Apollo, stated before lapping up the bits of hot green tea. Sehun laid back within his chair as he allowed the information to process. Hm...hero, right? It reminds him of those typical shounen- well, moreso shoujo animes where there’s tiny talking animals introducing a new power to the main characters. Perhaps it’s the same thing with these uh, kwamis, right? Actually, why is he becoming comfortable with this? He should’ve called the cops on this little freak and have him experimented on. But then again, he’s not that heartless...

“Alright, whatever, fine. I’ll accept.”

Apollo looked up in surprise, “Hm, quite an immediate response. Are you sure you don’t need anymore time?” He asked.

“Nah. Honestly, I got nothing to lose besides my already draining sanity. And besides, it’ll give me something better to do than train. Didn’t you say you weren’t going to take “no” for an answer, anyway?”

“Hm, indeed. I had expected a series of denial and rejection from you, but I was wrong.”

“Great.” Sehun removed the watch out of the box before fiddling with it. He noticed the intricate designs encased around what appears to be a figured wolf within the center. The roman numerals rotated around the wolf with little and big hand aligned at twelve. Eventually, he slipped the watch onto his wrist and relished the coolness of it.

“Are you interested in testing your abilities?”

“I don’t see why not.” If he’s going to become one, might as well get used to this. Then again, he’ll have to see once he wakes up tomorrow.

“Very well. Then call me by name, and then say, “Howl through.” I will enter into the-”

“Apollo, howl through.”

“But I’m not-finished!” The poor wolf kwami did not receive the chance to finish his sentence before he was sucked into the watch.

🐱 Jungkook / Kwan Kat 🐱

As far as Jungkook can remember it’s been exactly seven months, twenty-eight days, thirty-two hours, six minutes and forty seconds since Ladybug and Wolf appeared on the scene. The moment he knew that there’s something more than life itself. He became a huge fan of the heroes and started a Naver fansite dedicated to the two, taking up majority of his time just like rookie idol training and school. Perhaps even more than school itself.

Whenever an attack happens in the city, Jungkook quickly excuses himself and whips out his camera to take good quality photos of the duo and akuma. On most conspiracy websites, it’s been theorized that akumas originate far from the city... a possible manipulator of some sort? It’s recognized that the perpetrator feeds off toxic emotions of anger and sadness. It kind of reminds him of those villains where they attack from a distance, almost as if...

“He’s using us as pawns.” Everyone groans around him.

Jungkook frowned, “What? It’s the only way possible. After all, no one have managed to find the culprit behind these possessions?” He can’t help it! There’s so many possibilities out there, and the only resource he has is Ladybug and Wolf. Note to self: make sure to interview Ladybug and Wolf soon... “C’mon Jungkook, there’s other things to talk about besides them. Can’t you see they’re way out of our league? Let them handle it.” Jin said.

“I know, but...”

“But nothing! You’ve been talking about it nonstop since the incident happened months ago. Do yourself and everyone a favor and stop. You probably think they’ll bend their knees for someone as average as us? Yah, give me a break!” Yoongi scoffed as he scooted out of his chair. The other rookies glanced at the round table as Yoongi continued to lecture Jungkook, “I have yet to see them interview anyone, and frankly, I doubt they care about us, let alone you. They believe they are so special because they have powers? Yeah, no.”

“...They...have normal identities, too...” Jungkook shrunk in his seat slowly as Yoongi relentlessly berated him until the elder walked away in frustration, leaving the poor boy alone in silence. With a sigh, the maknae pushed away his food and left the table. He could feel the anger rising in his chest reflecting over the incident. The further he focused on it, a sense of dark energy radiated from his mind...

They’re wrong.

He cannot be moved. Or else it’ll consume him, too.

Is he dreaming? No, he can’t possibly...

There stood Ladybug and Wolf. His heroes. On top of the balcony asking for him, Jeon Jungkook, to help them personally? The boy wiped his eyes as he edged closer outside the window. But honestly, what can he do? He doesn’t have much to offer them, let alone anyone else, so...-

“We’re not asking if you’re physically capable. We’re interested in your willingness to help us.” The wolf boy stated.

“B-but what can I do? I wanna help... though, why are you guys asking me? There’s so many people out there that’s better than me! I’m just a freaking fanboy!” And everyone teases him about it at school. Ugh... just thinking about the humiliation yesterday still recoils deep in his stomach. He’s not good at talking, either! Won’t he just embarrass them if he decides to help? Jungkook was lost in his own thoughts he never noticed Ladybug closing in on his personal space until he looked up.

“True. We could find someone better, but a friend of mines gave me a recommendation about you. I think if you stopped doubting yourself, then you can go far. So, are you interested or not?”

Is he? This might be his one time offer, so- “yes!” Yes, YES! Jungkook nodded as Ladybug smiled, “Good. Here, you’ll need this.” The heroine pulled out a tiny black box and handed it to the teen. Without a second thought Jungkook opened the box, only for a spark of light to startle him, “Woah!” The light disappeared, and the boy was met with a flying black kitty with protruding green eyes.

“Ah! I finally awaken...!” The little kitten yawned, “Geeze, tell that master he needs to give us play time. Being locked in that box can surely strain my body. I don’t have nine lives for no reason, you know?” Jungkook looked at the cat in confusion, “Uh...” he didn’t know what to exactly think, but before he could voice his concerns the cat looked at him nonchalantly.

“Name’s Plagg. Kwami here that gives powers of destruction and uh, I like cheese. You know? Typical hero stuff.” The cat flew around him in what seems to be skepticism, “Hm... You look pretty decent for a fifteen year old boy. I’ll give you credit. Anyways, wear that black ring and I’ll give you my powers!”

“I-”

“Hey, not trying to rush, but we actually have to deal with some batshit akumas screwing everyone over, so can you speed it up?”

“Wolf! You could at least wait another minute.” Ladybug snapped at her partner. Jungkook quickly pulled out the ring and slid it on his index finger.

“Now what?” Excitement flourished through his veins as his heart grew erratic by the second.

“Now you say my name, “Claws out!” you’ll be the next Kwan Kat.” The cat said. Jungkook glanced at Ladybug and Wolf with their expression reflected his own of eagerness and pride.

This is going to be amazing!

“Plagg, claws out!”

🦊 Jungyeon / Pako 🦊

Okay, so,

Jungyeon was suppose to be babysitting her cousins. Not fighting them. However, some shit happened while they were acting like the little shitheads they were and transformed into bigger shitheads. Of course, it’s terrifying to watch them destroy her house, and then proceed to destroy the outskirts of the city, so it’s pretty bad.

However.

Ladybug, Wolf and that new black cat dude is on the scene beating her cousins assess in ways that’s probably problematic if they weren’t demon creatures. It’s also disappointing that she’s stuck here trying to do something when in fact she’s unable to do anything. And then, she watched her cousins multiply. Two to four, four to eight and eight to sixteen. They’re like cells going through osmosis, they won’t stop! Okay, this is really bad. And it’s her fault! “Oh no... what am I suppose to do now?!” Jungyeon can’t stop panicking. How is she going to explain to her aunt about this situation? She’ll never be trusted again!

“Jungyeon!” Huh? She felt a pair of strong arms scoop underneath her legs and the poor girl found herself screaming on the top of her lungs.

“Shit! Quiet down will you?!” Wait, it’s the Wolf kid! Hop, leap, jump, Jungyeon found herself far away from the city as she saw Ladybug and that black cat. Wolf set her carefully on her feet and plopped a black box in her hand.

“Take it.”

“What the?” She was completely dumbfounded, but it didn’t take a blind man more than three seconds to piece together the information.

“You’re only borrowing it since I sense the necessity of it. After we’re finish you must return it back to us.” Ladybug stated.

“Oh, okay. This is where I become a hero, right?”

“Pretty much.”

Well, if you can’t beat them, join them. With a simple shrug, Jungyeon flipped open the box and watched a red fox appear from it.

“Hi! My name’s Trixx and-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Magical thing that give me powers. No time, gotta kick ass so sorry.”

The little fox folded its arms with a huff, “Well, rude much?” It muttered.

Jungyeon hooked the necklace around her neck, “I need a power up,” She beckoned.

“Ever heard so much of a ‘please’?”

“Please, and thanks.” A large explosion took everyone by surprise.

“Okay, fine. Just call my name and say, “Let’s pounce”-”

“Trixx, let’s pounce!”

🐝 Lisa / Honii Bee 🐝

“Pollen, what do you think of this dress?”

“Hm...” Lisa watched the little bee observe her carefully, “Well, I think some pink would go nicely with it.” the kwami said.

“Very much true. I wear way too much yellow for my own good...” After finding her tiny friend a month ago, things been rather exciting for Lisa to say within the least. And she started loving the color yellow. Yellow outfits, yellow bedsheets, yellow jewelry and she even dyed her hair yellow. Unfortunately, her stylists demanded she changed her hair to red...

The obsession with the color yellow is disturbing everyone around her, but Lisa doesn’t see much of a problem. After all, it only embodies her friendship with the buzzing insect. Of course, she had to keep this friendship a complete secret. Maybe it’s a good thing she accidentally found that hair pin! “Come on Lisa, you don’t want to be late. You have to meet with your managers at the photo session today!” Pollen motioned the girl out the door before zipping into her yellow purse.

Even when she could fight along side the miraculous team, she preferred going solo. Especially at night where she can be free than any other person...

Hehe.

🌌 Jimin / Feather Juno 🌌

He noticed.

He’s not that stupid.

The frequent absences, the piling excuses, the nervous body language.

If one thing Park Jimin knew it was understanding the minuscule details. Generally speaking, he would’ve confronted Jungkook long time ago, but he decided to wait patiently.

“Jimin-”

“I’m sure it can explain itself better than you can, Jungkook.” Was he pissed? Somewhat, but not quite. However, his patience was thinning and he’s tired of the lies.

“...I’m not suppose to tell anyone.”

“So you don’t trust me, huh?”

“That’s not it-”

“Sure sounds like it!” Okay, he lashed out. He didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help it. Jimin watch the maknae cower beneath him as frustration nearly consumed him whole. “Why don’t you trust me? Am I not your friend? Your brother? Or... you don’t want to confide in your friends anymore?” He whispered. He felt hurt.

Jungkook remained tight lipped.

Fine then.

Jimin haven’t spoken to Jungkook since. And it’s only been what? Four days? Until that happened. And by that, Jimin means another akuma attack. It’s been a freaking year and he’s still not used to this. Regardless, Jimin found himself pressed against the fence by this apparent monster with its hot breath smothering his face.

Wow, guess this is how he’s going to die, huh? He haven’t even apologized yet...

A sudden force whipped the monster away and Jimin found himself on the muddy ground, inhaling large amounts of air as his lungs burned. He looked up to find a black cat with solid grey eyes staring at him, “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Y-yeah...- wait, where’s Jungkook? Ah! He’s still in there! I-I have to do something!” Jimin suddenly remembered.

He’s scared.

The young man pushed himself to his feet and tried to run, but the cat clad in black snatched him by the wrist.

“What are you doing? Let me go!:” Jimin practically screamed, and yet the cat shook his head, “Jungkook’s fine.”

“How do you know?! You know nothing of him!”

“Have you considered looking in front of you?”

...

No. That’s... that’s not possible... is it?

“It is, actually.” The cat smirked. And now looking at it, the features and hair, earrings and outfit seems to- “J-Jungkook?” Jimin stuttered.

He’s shocked.

“Yes. I was wondering how long it took you to figure it out.” The cat boy snickered and flicked his belt-like tail in amusement, “Just address me as Kwan Kat, and everything will be okay.”

It wasn’t okay.

It took Jimin a complete week to process things. Sure, he speculated many things, but he never concluded his maknae was Kwan Kat. Now it brought fears Jimin never knew existed within himself until now. Nightmares of his Jungkook dying a horrible death, and he wasn’t there to save him. Worse, Kwan Kat sacrificing his life to save him, when he has nothing to contribute to society. He couldn’t bear to face Jungkook, not now, and when he did...

“Hyung, you can’t tell me to give up my alternative lifestyle because it’s unsafe!”

“How can you willing risk your life knowing it could be your last? You have so much to live for!”

“And that’s why I’m living it. To protect everyone around me and-”

“Have you considered the possibility of dying a horrible death? Abandoning your friends and family because you wanted to play hero?”

“You see? This was the reason I couldn’t tell anyone, especially you, Jimin.” The words hurt worse than a knife’s dagger, but Jimin stood his ground.

“Fine, but you gotta bring me along with you.”

“What? No way.”

“I have to make sure nothing happens to you.”

“And what if something happened to you? Then I would’ve failed my job as protector.”

“Then... we can fight together.”

“Here.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a miraculous box. I asked Master Fu if I could borrow a miraculous, and it took a lot out of me just to make him budge. You can help on certain occasions just like Jungyeon, but it might not be often.” Jungkook placed the box inside Jimin’s hand, “I picked out a pendant because I felt like it suits you. So, you’re going to help me today. Don’t abuse it.” The maknae warned as the elder opened the box.

“Eep!” Jimin nearly dropped the box the moment light flashed, and out came a...? “Well, aren’t you a handsome young man!” the thing squeaked.

“What are you-”

“Kwami. Mystical god that bestows supernatural abilities. I see Jungkook decided to select me today, wee! It’s been eons since I last seen the world. Okay Jimin, ya ready for playtime?”

“Uh-”

“Alright kiddos, who woken me from my nap?” Plagg maneuvered out of Jungkook’s back pocket with a firm frown, “Kook, you better buy me more cheese today.”

“Ugh, you gotta be kidding me! I don’t have any money right now.” The boy whined in annoyance.

“Your problem, not mines. Oh, sup Dusuu, I didn’t see you there. Strange way to have our reunion.”

“Plagg, it’s great to see you again, brother!”

Okay.

This is... not normal.

“Come on Jimin, I’ll tell you more about it.” Jungkook finished with a smile.

16 notes · View notes

wellesleyunderground · 7 years ago

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Wellesley Writes It: Chelsea Ennen ‘14 (@ChelseaEnnen), Writer and Editor

Photo by Shannon L Hasenfratz.

Chelsea Ennen holds a master’s in Contemporary Literature, Theory, and Culture from King’s College London and double majored in English and Theater at Wellesley College. Her writing has appeared on The Female Gaze, The Tempest, The Mary Sue, Publisher's Weekly, Kirkus Reviews, Avidly, and HelloGiggles. She is the Fiction Editor at the Kaaterskill Basin Literary Journal and works in book journalism. Follow her on Twitter (@ChelseaEnnen) for updates on her creative work and inane pop culture commentary. Interview by Camille Bond ‘17, Wellesley Writes It series editor.

WU: Welcome, Chelsea, and thank you so much for interviewing with us! Your academic experience and written work reflects a serious interest in feminism, pop culture, and literature. How does your work handle these themes, or how do they intersect in your work?

Something the head of my department in grad school said to us once is that if you’re really thinking about something a lot (whether it’s because you like it or hate it) there’s probably a specific reason why, and if you can articulate that reason you’ve got a good thesis for an essay. That’s the attitude I take towards my academic and freelance writing. When something, be it a movie or book or whatever, sticks in my head, why is it stuck there?

When you look at the pop culture from any particular time or society, you’re looking at their values. Who do these people think of as heroes? Who are the villains? What do they see as a problem to overcome, and what form do solutions take? What kind of identity is considered the “default”? Who is deserving of love, success, visibility?

I feel like I hear people dismiss pop culture as “just a book/movie/TV show” less and less these days, but when I do hear it my blood just boils. Art, and especially the business around art, is and always has been political. To try and assert otherwise is a political statement all its own. To be able to consume art and not notice the politics of it, to not be affected by the politics of it, is also deeply deeply political. So while I don’t necessarily have a political critique to make in every piece of writing I publish or every thought I ever have about something, I find that’s the side that sticks in my brain the most.

WU: Your written work has been featured in an impressive assortment of publications. Are there any published pieces that you’re particularly proud of?

One that comes to mind is the War and Peace essay that I wrote for Avidly, mainly because I wanted so badly to publish something about reading that book and I pitched it around for months looking for the right fit (never give up, kids!). Another couple are the Alien: Covenant and Transformers: Lost Light essays I wrote for The Mary Sue. Both those pieces really represent the kind of thing I wanted to do after leaving academia, where maybe what I want to say isn’t really suited to an academic essay but it’s something I think is worth saying or something I’m enthusiastic about. There’s something coming up in a couple months that I’m EXTREMELY jazzed about but it’s too far out to talk about it yet.

WU: You’re currently working as a Fiction Editor at the Kaaterskill Basin Literary Journal, which was founded by Wellesley alumna Dana Mele. Can you tell us a bit about the journal, and how you got involved with the project?

When I had finished my dissertation but had another few months until I officially had my MA, Dana posted something in one of the Wellesley Facebook groups (I think Wellesley Writes It?) saying she was starting this journal and did anyone want to help. I reached out to her and she’s been letting me serve as the fiction editor ever since! It’s been a lot of fun, the website describes us as loving “the strange, the experimental, the disastrously gorgeous, and the simply lovely” so we get some really bold, cool submissions. It also forces me to read more short fiction, which is always a great idea! (Side note: Dana’s debut novel, People Like Us, is coming out soon and is getting a lot of positive buzz, you should preorder it!)

WU: How does your editorial work inform your voice as a writer, and vice versa?

I seem to be one of those rare people whose creative work often benefits from my editing work. For one thing, editing also means reading and it’s always helpful to read more, but I’m always taking mental notes. What is this writer’s style like? What am I changing about it, and why? What do we do differently, what do we have in common? And as a writer I’d like to think it helps me to be more objective about what I’m doing, because I have an idea of how an editor looks at things. Nothing can replace having other people read your stuff and give you feedback, and book editing isn’t the same as the editing I do, but it’s good to be able to self-edit as best as you can.

You also work as an editorial assistant at Kirkus Reviews. What have you learned from your experience working at a book review journal? How, if at all, has the position changed your understanding of the industry as a whole?

My job at Kirkus has given me a fairly deep understanding of contemporary publishing, and it was amazing how quickly I was able to gain that knowledge. Not because I’m some kind of whiz kid, but just from the breadth of books we cover. We publish reviews two months before the book is published so we get them in really far ahead of time. And I very quickly got to this point where I flick through the New York Times book review supplement and I recognize everything. I know all about what my mom’s book club is reading, or the new biography my dad ordered. And feeling like a publishing-insider is pretty cool, but as a writer it’s helpful to have a pretty wide knowledge of what kinds of things are getting published, and what the big dogs like Penguin Random House are publishing versus what smaller presses are publishing.

WU: You earned a Master’s degree from King's College London. Your dissertation, titled "Entertaining the Offered Fallacy: Pop Culture, Postfeminism, and the Function of Uncertainty in Feminist Narratives,” earned a Distinction and was accepted into Indiana University of Pennsylvania's 2016 English Graduate Organization Conference. Can you tell us a bit about the focus of the project?

The summer before I left for grad school I watched the HBO series Big Love and I was so fascinated by it, but I couldn’t articulate exactly why. Over time as I kept reading literary theory in my seminars, particularly feminist theory, I was able to whittle down what I thought really worked about that show and see other places where I saw the same thing.

If you look at academic (and nonacademic) feminist criticism of contemporary pop culture, you see a lot of...criticism. A lot of deconstructions of why all these properties that market themselves as being progressive are actually incredibly regressive. Go on Twitter for any number of seconds and you will see fifty of these articles, I myself have written plenty of them. And they’re great! They’re important! Keep writing them!

But I found myself wondering if achieving a contemporary feminist narrative was even possible. What would it look like? How would you account for intersectionality? Contemporary oppression is all about pretending it doesn’t exist, that racism is over/women are equal/the poor are just lazy, whatever. So how do you shine a light on that hypocrisy as a whole instead of picking at one small aspect of it? What I found was these different pieces of media, like Big Love, that used a bit of fantasy in an otherwise realistic work, and that bit of fantasy called everything else, including gender norms, racism, capitalism, materialism, etc. into question.

WU: You’re currently workshopping a finished manuscript for a novel. What is the genre of the novel? What steps will you pursue after workshopping?

It’s contemporary fantasy, and I hope it comes across as quirky and even a bit odd. I’ve been influenced a lot more by fantasy writers like Jasper Fforde and Susanna Clarke than, say, Tolkien. I like things that are a little weird. I actually finished workshopping/editing it recently, and at long (long) last I am sending agents query letters! Which is all very exciting but a slower-than-frozen-molasses endeavor. I’ve gotten a full manuscript request, which was wonderful and totally unexpected only a couple weeks after sending, so it was nice to have some kind of confirmation that I’m not sending things into a void. I’ve also already gotten a couple rejections, which is also great, usually they don’t have time to notify you at all! Every single individual stage of writing a novel and trying to get it published is one of those ultra marathons where you go fifty miles over a mountain or whatever, so it’s important not to get too bogged down in the process. In the meantime I’ll be starting the next one...

WU: During your time at Wellesley, were there any professors, classes, and/or orgs that you found particularly formative? If so, how did the professor/class/org influence you?

Listen, your mileage may vary, but since you’re asking, I am one of Those People who had an amazing time at Wellesley and would gladly follow any of my former professors into battle. I will name a few specifically, however, if only not to cop out of the question. Nora Hussey gave me a lot of great opportunities early on in the Theater department and I think without those I would have allowed myself to get lost in the shuffle of the bigger personalities who usually do theater-y stuff. And I don’t care what your major was, if you took a class with Diego Arciniegas I bet it helped you with your confidence. I adore the English department as a group but Lisa Rodensky is such a gem of a teacher and a human being, and she went out of her way to be there for me even when I was in grad school. She’s someone whose advice I always think about when I’m having a hard time (I also pull up old emails from her sometimes…), and another person who saw a pretty reserved, timid student and was like hey! I see you! Your voice matters!

Speaking of your voice mattering, I also took private voice lessons with Andrea Matthews, who is just plain cool and so enthusiastic about music and teaching. She’d get so excited whenever I had a breakthrough, which was touching for me because I’d always been so insecure about my singing, which was not very good despite all the high school and community theater I’d done. She taught me how to really engage with the act of singing from an emotional, organic place. The word she’d use was “yummy, it should feel yummy!” which was a really wonderful image. I was never the best singer around the department but I got better and better every semester and ended up participating in as much as I could because I always had so much fun.

WU: What is your approach to self-care?

Exhaustive! I am more or less a collection of mood disorders stuffed into a meat sack, so self care is A Thing and I could talk about it for forever. I should do a podcast about it. One thing I will say, that I wish more people talked about, is that I find it incredibly therapeutic to engage in hobbies where I don’t care if I’m good at it. That’s such a hard pill to swallow for most people, Wellesley types in particular, but it’s soooooo good for you to let go of the need to be the best at everything. There are enough things in your life, especially if you’re a writer, where you care about it and deeply want to improve, and that’s great but that can’t be your attitude towards everything in life, you’ll explode and have no self esteem (in that order).

I recently did a paint night with my cousin, which is basically an episode of Bob Ross but in person and with wine, and we just decided to not to care if the painting looked “right” or like the example. What if we just mixed colors we thought were pretty and had fun and learned something new instead of getting down on ourselves for how “good” or “bad” it was? And we had an amazing time! I painted a wave on the beach! It didn’t look exactly like the example, but no one died and I am still deserving of love!

I also really like playing first person shooters (Titanfall 2, anyone?) because that kind of goal-oriented quick-moving target-based activity is actually really helpful for certain kinds of anxiety. And boy howdy do I need to not care if I’m good at those! I just set it on easy, never play online, and don’t worry how many tries it takes to hit all the evil robots.

WU: What advice would you give to a Wellesley student or alumnx seeking to improve their writing skills?

Reading and writing, both, a lot, LIKE SO MUCH, is the biggest thing. It’s so big that even though I know it’s what everyone says, I’m still saying it. Read fiction, read nonfiction, read stuff you like, read something you know you’ll hate (or maybe just sample it, your time is valuable). If you have an impulse to write something, do it! Make the thing! Get it out of your head first and then worry about fixing it up later. Do some garbage journaling about how you can’t think of what to journal about. It all helps.

WU: How would you like to grow as a writer and/or editor? Do you have any writing-related New Year’s resolutions?

I would love to finish my next novel not necessarily more quickly but more smoothly than the last one, and for freelancing I would love to branch out and get published in places I haven’t been published before. For editing I want to strengthen my grammar skills. There are some things I keep having to check with AP every time I see them and I’d like to get those to stick! I also really need to make my website, I’ve been putting it off for ages. Partially because I could also use a new set of headshots. I’ve been using the Wellesley ones since I got them senior year and, dare I say it, those are perhaps a bit too old now... Anyway, no one likes to think about the businessy side of writing that includes using Twitter every so often and having a website, but it’s important stuff!

#Wellesley writes it #wellesley writes it series #wellesley underground #wellesley college

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sassycassie-s-writing · 7 years ago

Text

Dream Vacation

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Vine/YouTube/Thomas Sanders

Rating: G

Original Idea: @moonlight-lyrics asked if I’d make the dream she had into a one-shot!

Notes: (Masterlist)(About Me) Yes the title is a play on the request type---fight me I thought it was funny. This was interesting. It’s been a while since I wrote in second person. Still, hope you enjoy! (It’s also slightly longer than usual. That seems to happen a lot with requests.)

“Dream Vacation”

^^^^^

You browse Tumblr boredly, scrolling down your dash. You’ve passed the same post three or four times now and you're starting to wonder if you're having déjà vu or you're just falling asleep.

You're jarred from your rabbit hole of spiraling thoughts by your mother calling your name.

You look up and jump to go answer her call. The tone of her voice made you curious. She sounded excited. You were sure there was plenty that could make your mom excited, but what was it that she wanted to involve you in?

“What’s up?” you ask curiously, joining her.

“I just got a call from your aunt,” she replies with a mischievous grin that you definitely inherited from her.

“Uh… which one?”

“The one in Florida.”

For a moment, you're concerned. You rarely hear from that aunt—given the distance and all. But the look on your mom’s face suggests that it’s not a bad thing, so at least you know that your aunt probably isn’t hurt. You're pretty sure your mom wouldn’t be excited about that.

“Why’d she call?” you inquire.

“She wants you to come stay with her for a couple weeks!” your mom announces.

A smile splits up your face and you squeal. It has been way too long since you’d seen your aunt! Plus, FLORIDA! What was it nicknamed again? The Sunshine State? That would certainly be a welcome break from the rain you’d been experiencing.

“That’s awesome! When do I get to go?”

“In a week. So we gotta start getting you packed up just to make sure we don’t forget anything. She said she’d send a list of things you should bring, but let’s throw some clothes in your suitcase first.”

Feeling your heart racing, you follow your mom to your room and help her pack.

^^^^^

The plane ride was long. You weren’t sure how long, but it seemed to last forever. Partially because you had a long way to travel, and partially because you were so excited to see your aunt and be in Florida. Maybe you’d even go to the beach! You tried to get some sleep, but even for your small stature you were a bit cramped—not to mention the old lady next to you was snoring so loud it sounded like a saw on a tree trunk.

Needless to say, you were glad when the plane landed. You grab your carry-on bag—a backpack with three books in it and several kinds of snacks—and get off the plane. You blink in the sudden harsh white lights of the airport and follow the signs to the exit area where your aunt should be waiting for you.

She is. She greets you by calling your name, holding up a poster board with glitter spelling your name. You run down the escalator in the airport and across the roped-off area to get to her.

Both of you nearly topple over as you throw your arms around her.

“It’s so good to see you!” she exclaims as she drops her sign to her side and leads you over to the baggage claim to get your suitcase.

“You too!” you enthuse.

The two of you chat idly while you wait for your suitcase to spin around on the carousel. You find out that her dog is still alive and well but she’s moved to a smaller house than before so she doesn’t have to clean so much.

But mostly she asks about you—how you're doing, what you're up to, that kind of thing. You eagerly supply answers, filling her in on years of your life.

Once you get your suitcase, you wheel it out to her car and she drives you both from the airport to her house. It’s a bit of a long drive, but you enjoy the scenery. The house is pale yellow and semi-attached to the one next to it. You take your suitcase inside. In the living room, your aunt has set up an air mattress with a bedsheet and duvet over the top.

Your aunt instructs you to sleep. You gladly obey. The flight was long and you need to adjust to the time zone.

^^^^^

When you wake, you're struck by how quiet it is. You feel well-rested but something doesn’t seem right. Why is it so quiet?

You get off the air mattress and brush out your hair. As you're finishing, it hits you.

Your aunt’s dog. If he wasn’t barking, then the nametag on his collar was jingling as he plodded around. But there’s nothing.

You call your aunt’s name.

“Yeah?” she shouts from upstairs.

“Where’s Sparks?” you ask.

“Oh he’s probably with the Sanders boy next door,” your aunt dismisses offhandedly. “If you want to play with him you’ll have to go knock and check. He lives on the other side of the wall. If Sparks isn’t there he’s probably napping under the tree out back.”

You blink, staring at the front door. Sanders… Florida… dogs… could it… could it be?

No. It was probably just a coincidence.

Still…

You decide to go investigate.

Taking a deep breath, you walk out into the Florida heat. It’s probably not actually all that hot, but the humidity makes it feel hotter than it is. The air is muggy and seems to cling to the inside of your lungs as you inhale and exhale. The sun is bright and there’s a light breeze—which is welcome since it’s cooler than the rest of the stagnant air.

You cross the shared wall to the other door. For a moment you stand still on the front step, one hand raised and poised to knock.

Your curiosity gets the better of you. Even if your aunt’s next-door neighbor isn’t who you think it is, you wouldn’t mind playing with Sparks a little. The dog hasn’t seen you in years and could do with getting used to you again.

Knock, knock, knock, knock! You rap your knuckles sharply on the wooden front door.

Barking meets your ears. You hear little feet patter over a floor and then scrape against the other side of the door. You smile. Looks like you found Sparks.

The door opens. A man is bent down, holding the collar of the familiar yellow dog.

The first thing you notice about the man is that his hair is… purple. There are hints of brown underneath it but mostly it’s purple. He’s wearing a red shirt with a big yellow star plastered across the middle and jeans. “Whoa, whoa! Down, Sparks,” he commands the dog with a voice deeper than you expected. He looks up at you with brown eyes and smiles. “Sorry about him. He’s my neighbor’s—”

“I know,” you interrupt, trying really hard not to freak out. “He just hasn’t seen me in a while so he’s excited. I'm her niece.” You kneel down and let Sparks take a single bound to you. He licks your face over and over. Over the dog’s shoulders and excited barking, you stick your hand out to the man and introduce yourself, giving your name while trying not to reveal that you're a big Fander.

He shakes your hand. “I'm Thomas,” he introduces himself.

You smile, not wanting to lie. “I know. I've seen your Vines and YouTube videos and stuff. I had no idea my aunt was your next-door neighbor.”

He looks surpsied. “Aw! You know about me?” he asks, looking both flattered and excited—the expression on his face calls to mind his character, Patton. Your grin widens and you nod. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you!” He glances back into his house. “Would you like to come in for a little while? I'm filming a video but when I'm done I’ll finally get a chance to play with Sparks. Maybe you can keep him quiet until I'm done?”

You snort. “I'm not sure about keeping this bundle of energy quiet, but I can certainly try,” you comment.

He beckons you inside. You cross the threshold with Sparks trying to jump on you the whole time. “Down, Sparks,” Thomas orders again. This time the big yellow dog listens and keeps his paws on the carpet, though you can tell he doesn’t want to.

You watch Thomas finish his video while sitting behind the camera tripod with Sparks on your lap. You pet his head until he calms down, so he doesn’t bark while the camera is recording. Thomas barely looks at you as he talks about his new hair color and reminds everyone about some upcoming things that are happening while you scratch Sparks behind the ears.

After an enthusiastic, “Take it easy guys, gals, and non-binary pals—peace out!” he turned off the camera and plopped onto the floor, looking tired.

Sparks bounded off your lap and into his—nearly knocking the tripod over.

After another couple minutes of awkward interaction, the two of you felt comfortable enough to talk about something other than the dog. Although, you suspect he could talk about dogs for the rest of his life without running out of things to say.

It’s cute.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he requests. Even though he’s looking at Sparks, not you, you assume he’s speaking to you, not Sparks.

So you tell him. You tell him about your hobbies, some of your dreams and ambitions, some things about your family and friends, how you discovered him, that sort of thing. A few times you're not sure if he’s listening or not since he seems to be focused on Sparks, but he asks such specific questions about what you’ve been saying that you know he has been paying attention.

“Now it’s your turn,” you inform him.

And he returns the favor.

It was strange, meeting someone you’d admired and looked up to for so long because he lives next-door to your aunt. Suddenly it felt a bit like you were old friends catching up after a long time apart. Not that you were complaining.

You stay at his house for the rest of the afternoon, just talking and playing with Sparks. You barely mention anything about YouTube or Vine again, and after a while you both seem to forget that you're a Fander. You just become Ms. Next-Door’s niece who’s being friendly and funny, talking and laughing like any friends.

When the time comes for you to go back to your aunt’s for dinner, you give him a hug and takes Sparks with you, promising you’d come back sometime soon just to hang out again.

Thomas smiles and waves as you head back next-door before closing his front door.

Your trip to Florida was already looking very promising.

The vacation of your dreams.

#Dream Vacation #Thomas Sanders #Thomas Sanders Imagine #Thomas Sanders FanFiction #thatsthat24 #thatsthat24 imagine #thatsthat24 FanFiction #YouTube #YouTube Imagine #YouTube FanFiction #Vine #Vine Imagine #Vine FanFiction #YouTuber #YouTuber Imagine #YouTuber FanFiction #Viner #Viner Imagine #Viner FanFiction

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nyami-tee · 7 years ago

Text

hidden by a quiet wonder

Before he can leave, Iwaizumi’s voice stops him, loud and clear. “Have you ever read The Little Prince?”

Tooru shakes his head. “I had a copy when I was younger, but I never read it.”

Iwaizumi smiles, crooked and sweet. “I recommend it.”

(alternatively: the one where oikawa reads a book and gets more than he bargains for

also: oikawa’s birthday fic)

read on ao3 or under the cut

“Back again, I see.”

Tooru looks up from the shelves to meet hazel eyes. He smiles sheepishly, finger tracing the spines of the books absentmindedly. The owner, Sugawara doesn’t look angry. Surprised, maybe, but there’s a fondness in his eyes that suggests this isn’t the first time a customer has come back looking for more.

“If you wanted similar genres to the ones you took out last week, I could find some,” Suga offers, and Tooru shrugs.

In all honesty, he’d only come back because his English seminar required him to find an obscure book to analyze for his next paper, and since Karasuno Books was the closest bookstore to his dorm, he naturally chose it.

“Actually, I’m just browsing,” Tooru says, one eyebrow raised in defiance. He doesn’t like people interfering with his business, and he won’t let Suga of all people be the first in a while to break the wall.

Suga looks unimpressed, one hand resting against the wooden bookshelf as he leans on it. He stares at Tooru for three long seconds before he reaches up and grabs a book off the shelf, seemingly at random. He dusts off the cover, reads the title and nods affirmatively. Looking up, he holds out the book, shaking it enticingly until Tooru grabs it. Sharing one last glance with Suga, he tentatively looks down at the book. Gold flashes back at him accompanies with teal blue. The title stares up at him.

“ _ The Song of Achilles _ ?” Tooru looks up. “I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken me for another customer. I’m just...browsing.”

“Browsing,” Suga repeats, deadpan. “Of course. I know for a fact that you’re here for a book, specifically for the paper that Takeda-sensei wants due in two weeks.” At Tooru’s dumbfounded stare, he laughs. “I’m not a stalker, don’t worry. You’re the fifth person in here who’s looked perpetually lost. That and Bokuto’s in your class. He’s been talking nonstop about the class for weeks.”

Tooru knows of Bokuto. He’s loud and slightly obnoxious and sits two rows in front of Tooru, right next to Kuroo Tetsurou. If asked, Tooru doesn’t admit that the reason he dislikes Bokuto Koutarou is that he indirectly stole his best friend Kuroo Tetsurou. Not at all.

Tooru sends Suga a bright smile. “Wow, how...refreshing.” He gestures to the book. “Thanks, by the way, Suga-chan!”

Suga smiles, knowing and bright. “Glad to be of help! Now if you want to buy it, I’ll ring it up for you.”

Tooru nods, his fake smile pinching the corners of his face. “Gladly.”

When Tooru gets back to his dorm, he’s not entirely surprised to see an ambiguous figure on the couch. He stares at the lump for a few long moments, willing it away with his stare before he relents, slipping off his shoes and hanging his coat by the door. He doesn’t say anything, just waddles over to the couch and sits down on the lump, harder than necessary.

There’s aloud howl before he’s rudely pushed off of his own couch and onto the floor. Angrily he hits the lump with the bag containing the book, earning a hiss and loud, prolonged “fuck”.

“ _ What is wrong with you _ ?” Kuroo hisses as he extracts the blanket from his head. Tooru crosses his arms and pouts.

“You’re the one going into people’s houses uninvited!” Tooru shoots back. He retrieves his book and sits next to Kuroo. “Besides, I thought you were having so much fun with Bokuto and Sawamura to spend time with me.”

Kuroo runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fuck, you’re still not on about that, are you?” He looks at Tooru, arms splayed across the back of the sofa. “The semester started three months ago, and I’ve offered multiple times for you to come sit with us.”

Tooru rolls his eyes. It’s been an ongoing argument: the dilemma with Kuroo and his friend Bokuto. Since Kuroo and Tooru were childhood friends, he’d thought that they’d naturally sit together during the one class they shared since first year. However, the minute Bokuto and Kuroo saw each other, they’d automatically gravitated towards each other, leaving Tooru sitting next to the perpetually grumpy blond kid. He’s not angry, but he’s had an inclination to being petty and dragging things on for longer than they need to be.

“Whatever,” Tooru grumbles. Turning, he sits horizontally on the sofa, pressing his legs onto Kuroo’s lap. Kuroo sighs but allows it, hands immediately going for the remote. He flips through multiple drama channels before he lands on a volleyball match. Tooru looks up for a moment, spies the unruly hair of his high school rival and scowls. He opens the bag and carefully extracts the book.

The sound of the plastic attracts Kuroo’s attention and he looks over. At the sight of the book, he pales. “Shit.”

Tooru turns the book in his hands. “What?”

“We have that assignment,” Kuroo says the words slowly, as if he’s willing them to be untrue. “We had to pick our books by today. We had to tell Takeda and Iwaizumi our selections.”

Tooru nods, eyes glinting mischievously. “You would’ve known if you didn’t spend all your time talking to Bokuto.”

Kuroo runs a hand over his face, expression verging on a mental breakdown. “Oikawa. Shut the fuck up.” He sits quietly for a moment, expression darkening. Tooru watches the volleyball match with mild interest, stifling his laughter. It doesn’t take long for Kuroo to formulate a solution. He stares at the book in Tooru’s hand for a moment before his smile is back.

“Where did you get your book?”

Tooru, who had anticipated the answer, sends his own sly smile. “I’m not telling you.”

“Bastard,” Kuroo growls, hands reaching for the book. Tooru squirms out of his reach. “Give me the book!” Tooru barely manages to get away before Kuroo’s hands are dragging his legs, long limbs reaching for the plastic bag. Tooru’s reaction time is late, and after a failed pseudo sit up, he falls, landing presumptuously on his face. He watches as Kuroo turns the plastic bag, eyes falling on Karasuno Books’ logo. In seconds his face goes from pained to excited.

“Holy shit!” He jumps up, effectively throwing Oikawa’s legs onto the floor. For a moment, Tooru wonders how he had gotten here, on the floor of his own house. “This is Daichi’s store!”

“Daichi?” Tooru mumbles, voice partially muffled by the floor. He turns so his back is flush with the hardwood. “Sawamura Daichi? As in, your boyfriend Sawamura Daichi?”

Kuroo nods, hands crumpling the bag. “Yeah, it’s a family business but since he’s working to get his graduate done, he’s given temporary management to a family friend.”

Tooru lets this sink in before he looks up. He’s met with a very unattractive view of Kuroo Tetsurou. “Wait, Refreshing-kun and Sawamura know each other?”

Kuroo looks down. “High school.”

“Oh.”

“So, like, did you pick out that book or…”

“Refreshing-kun picked it out for me.” Tooru sits up so at least he has some sort of dignity left. “He took one look at me, and then picked it out. Almost like magic.”

“That’s Suga for you,” Kuroo laughs. He stands up and heads to the door. “By any chance, do you think they’re still open?”

“Maybe,” Tooru hums, he stops when Kuroo opens the door. “What--you _ bastard _ , you can’t just come in here and leave like a stray cat!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Oikawa!” Kuroo calls as he leaves. His signature smirk is back on his face.

“At least _ give me back my keys _ !”

The door slams with a sense of finality.

They both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.

Surprisingly, it takes Tooru a full week before he has any qualms to reading the book. Reality hits him in the face in the middle of class when Takeda-sensei kindly reminds them that their papers are due in five days. Tooru, who had been admiring the TA’s arm muscles had nearly fallen out of his seat in surprise.

Two hours later finds him at Karasuno, head in his hands. In front of him, Kuroo grins, sipping leisurely on his pocari. They stare at each other for a moment before Kuroo smirks, hands capping the drink in his hands.

“You know, you wouldn’t be in this situation if you didn’t stare at Iwaizumi’s arms all day.”

Tooru fixes him with a deadpan stare, hands coming down to sit at his lap. “And how, pray tell, do the TA’s arm correlate to my dilemma?”

“Well,” Kuroo begins.

“Did he forcibly take away my book?”

“No.”

“Did he directly influence me into not reading my book?”

“Well, no.”

“Then how?” Tooru snarls. Kuroo looks at his pocari sheepishly, hands coming to cross over his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, Tooru watches Sawamura and Suga slip into the room, eyes flitting between the two of them nervously.

It’s Sugawara who breaks the silence. He smiles, gently pushing Kuroo out of Tooru’s personal space. Opening the blinds, he sends Tooru a smile. “Why don’t we just leave you here to read? We’ll be in the back room if you need us.”

Tooru looks up, a small smile inching onto his face. “Thanks, Refreshing-kun.” He watches them leave, Kuroo being towed by a slightly scowling Sawamura. Taking a deep breath, he puts his headphones in and opens the book ready to read.

Except that’s not what happens because the title page is littered with annotations.

Tooru gapes, looking at the myriad of blue and black ink. Bringing the book up to his face, he tries to make out the words written in the messy scrawl. Various statements about the theme, motifs and characters are described, and most importantly discussed. The writer’s words have a dry, witty humor to them, and it takes Tooru a moment to flip the page.

The next page looks almost identical to the first, the pages annotated with great detail, pointing out the nuances within the texts, the subtleties that make the writing more descriptive and alluring than they originally must have been. Tooru takes his time reading, taking in the story of Achilles and Patroclus, and digests the insight that the scrawled ink leads him to. Little by little Tooru falls in love with the book, with the words that bring a heaviness to his heart. He doesn’t know how long he sits in the chair, reading of the battle with Hector, the maturity of both Achilles and his partner.

He reads of pride, of sacrifice. He marvels at Brises and her strength, learns from Chiron and his wisdom. He grows alongside Patroclus, who altruistically gives everything, even his life, to Achilles. He seethes at Agamemnon's stubbornness and recoils at Achilles’ pride. Most of all, he falls in love. He cherishes the characters within his heart, feels their heartbreak, their sorrow. He experiences their strife and relishes in their love. And when Patroclus and Achilles meet again, he cries.

He rereads the book again, this time paying attention to the annotations. Whoever had annotated this had an adept understanding of the themes within the book and pointed out specific techniques that the author used in order to evoke emotion. The in depth analysis makes Tooru appreciate the book more, and he finds himself understanding the text more, thanks to the annotator.

Once he reaches the final page, he sees a smudge of blue, under his thumb. Carefully, he peers at it, trying to make out the characters. Belatedly, he realizes it’s a name. The first part is smudged beyond recognition, but he can read the first name clearly.

_ Hajime. _

Tooru smiles.

He writes his paper relatively quickly and hands it in before the deadline. However, he pulls an all-nighter to do it, ideas in his head still fresh in his head. As a result, he’s lethargic the next day in class and falls asleep during Takeda’s lecture on the importance of classical literature in modern society.

He wakes up an hour later to a hand on his head and green eyes centimeters from his. Jolting, he leans back into his chair, recoiling from the close proximity of the other person. It takes a moment for him to realize that the other person is Iwaizumi, and another to realize that class ended a half hour ago.

“Holy--” Tooru begins, standing. He quickly gathers his things, stuffing them haphazardly into his bag. Iwaizumi leans back, mouth quirked up in amusement. “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t sweat it,” Iwaizumi replies, and his voice is deep and soothing, and the source of many of Tooru’s most loved lectures. “Rough night, huh?”

Tooru nods as he zips up his bag. “I’d say I was partying to make it interesting; however, I was just writing the essay.”

Iwaizumi quirks an eyebrow. “The essay? Like, the paper that’s due in a couple of days?” At Tooru’s nod, he whistles lowly. “Damn. Most people would cram the whole thing the night before the deadline, not days before.”

Tooru rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like you ever cram.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tooru shoots Iwaizumi a disbelieving glare. He gestures in Iwaizumi’s general direction. “Look at you, Iwa-chan. You look like the pristine student who never does anything late. You probably hand everything in days in advance.”

Iwaizumi frowns. “Iwa-chan?”

Tooru freezes. He runs a hand sheepishly through his hair before he lets out a short, uncomfortable laugh. “I’m sorry is that too much?”

“No,” Iwaizumi says, mouth curling into a smile. “I mean, it’s annoying, but it’s a slip so it’s not that bad. Also, god, you’ve never been more wrong. Deadlines are my worst.”

“Really?” Tooru hums, adjusting the straps of his bag. “So you hand things in late?”

“More like borderline late,” Iwaizumi laughs. “I manage to get everything in a minute before it’s due. I’m good at formulating ideas and understanding texts and shit, but compiling all those ideas into a paper with one centralized topic? That’s too much for me.”

Tooru laughs. “Really? For me, it’s the opposite. I can’t understand texts that easily, but I can write anything as long as I have a topic and some background knowledge.”

“Damn,” Iwaizumi grins. “I wish I could do that.”

The two fall silent after that. It’s comfortable, familiar, and Tooru wonders why he hasn’t gone up to him before and striked up a conversation. He’s seen Bokuto do it multiple times, has seen the shy girl who sits in the front row do it as well. He’s obviously been missing out because Iwaizumi is so much more than just a pair of well-built arms.

They’re interrupted by the door opening. Takeda sticks his head into the room and makes eye contact with Iwaizumi, a bright smile on his face.

“Ah, Iwaizumi-san! I was wondering if you’d want to lead the lecture for the next class? Keishin’s got a little emergency with Shouyou so I’ve gotta head home and fix that.”

Iwaizumi nods, arms coming up to cross against his chest. “Yeah for sure. Just leave your notes on the desk before you leave.”

“Of course!” Takeda fixes his tie. “Thank you so much!”

“No problem, sensei.” Iwaizumi watches as Takeda closes the door, actions as rushed as his words. At the sound of the door closing Iwaizumi turns his head, green eyes regarding Tooru carefully. “I guess I’ve gotta go prep for the next class.”

“Yes!” Tooru says, too quick, too loud. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, of course,” Iwaizumi replies, a smile on his face. Tooru turns to leave before he's stopped by a hand. “Wait, you forgot this.”

Tooru turns to find Iwaizumi holding his copy of _ The Song of Achilles _ . He’s looking at it fondly, thumb rifling through the pages until he stops on a random page. There’s something in his expression that Tooru can’t exactly page. He stares at the page for a moment longer before he closes the book and returns it to Tooru.

“You annotate a lot for someone who doesn’t formulate ideas quickly.” There’s a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Those aren’t my annotations,” Tooru explains. “I got the book from Karasuno and, I don’t know, the annotations helped me a lot.”

Iwaizumi nods, eyes glinting with amusement. “I see.”

Tooru offers one last wave before he walks towards the door. Before he can leave, Iwaizumi’s voice stops him, loud and clear. “Have you ever read _ The Little Prince _ ?”

Tooru shakes his head. “I had a copy when I was younger, but I never read it.”

Iwaizumi smiles, crooked and sweet. “I recommend it.”

Later, Sugawara finds the book perched up on one of the higher shelves. He hands it to Tooru with a small smile. When Tooru opens it in the comfort of his room, he’s surprised to find the book annotated.

At the end, there’s the name again.

_ Hajime _ .

In all honestly the books give him insight on what kind of person Hajime is. From his annotations, Tooru can deduce that he doesn’t quite like romance. He appreciates it but doesn’t like it when it gets frivolous. He enjoys the sentimental value within books, appreciates the little things that the author puts into the books to make it more relatable. His words resonate with Tooru, much like the book does in the end.

_ The Little Prince _ is simple and heartbreaking. Tooru reads the book quickly. At the end of his first read, he thinks he read it wrong and rereads it over and over again until his vision is blurred with tears. Hajime’s annotations don’t help; rather, they pierce his very soul, offering pieces of the text that Tooru hadn’t noticed before. It’s beautiful, yet heartbreaking and he relives it with every read.

The story doesn’t leave his mind for a long time, and he spends his night looking up at the stars from his apartment window.

English class comes achingly slow, and to make things better, Iwaizumi leads the lecture, his voice booming through the hall. Unlike Takeda, Iwaizumi’s voice makes Tooru want to listen. The deep timbre and slight huskiness in his voice makes Tooru attentive and takes away all qualms of him falling asleep in class. Rather, he takes in every detail of the lecture Iwaizumi gives on modern literature and the influence of Shakespeare.

It isn’t until the end of the class that Tooru lingers, eyes trailing on Iwaizumi’s figure. It takes a moment, but once everyone filters out of the classroom, Tooru knocks on the door frame, causing Iwaizumi to jump up in surprise.

“Oikawa,” he says, a slight smile on his face. “How can I help you?”

“I read _ The Little Prince, _ ” Tooru says by way of explanation. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi leans against the desk, a smile on his face. “Simple and elegant. I knew you’d like it.”

“Really,” Tooru muses, a smile on his face. “Any other recommendations?”

Iwaizumi purses his lips for a moment before he snaps his fingers. “Something a little different: _ Milk and Honey _ .”

Tooru nods as he leaves.

Once again, the pages are annotated thoroughly; however, Hajime’s words are more subdued, more emotional than analytical. Tooru is mesmerized not only by the raw feelings expressed in the poetry but also within Hajime’s words.

It’s a story of heartbreak, of healing.

It’s a story that Tooru reads over and over again, letting the words wash over him. He reads the annotations, relating them to stories he’s heard in real life. He reads over a section that makes him pause.

_ Poetry is the window to the soul _ , Hajime had written in pencil. It’s slightly smudged and hidden near the spine of the book, but Tooru reads it anyways. _ It reflects the feelings of a person, their raw emotion _ .

Tooru has heard those words before.

_ Milk and Honey _ is not only a book about growth, about love. It’s the book that makes Tooru fall harder for the annotator, lets the words wash over his heart over and over until he’s filled with giddy admiration.

It’s the book where he realizes Iwaizumi is Hajime.

When he arrives to class on Monday, Iwaizumi isn’t there.

He’s not there on Tuesday either, or Wednesday, and on Thursday Takeda dismisses the class early due to another incident with his son. Tooru leaves quietly with Kuroo.

“Daichi’s brewing tea at Karasuno,” Kuroo says as they leave the classroom. “Do you want to come?”

Tooru shrugs. It’s about time he stopped moping anyways. “Yeah, sure.”

The two walk silently to the small book store. When they open the door, Sugawara’s there to greet them, eyes widening in surprise when he sees Tooru.

“Welcome!” he greets. “Oikawa, I have a delivery for you!” He brings out a package and hands it to Tooru. “Somebody bought you a book.”

Tooru doesn’t waste time in unwrapping the package, and it’s only moments until the cover of _ The Secret History _ stares back at him. Tooru makes his way to the alcove next to the store, resumes his spot by the window and begins to read.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen Oikawa excited by a book,” Kuroo comments.

It’s beautiful. The annotations are thoughtful and insightful and _ new _ .

At the end of the book, there’s a number and a name.

Tooru doesn’t waste time and calls.

Iwaizumi picks up on the third ring.

“I knew you’d call.”

“Did you?” Tooru asks, laughing. “That was really thoughtful of you.”

“Well,” Iwaizumi replies. “I knew you’d figure out it was me by the third book, so I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You did,” Tooru smiles. “Where are you?”

“I’m at a tournament with the volleyball team,” Iwaizumi replies, a smile in his voice. Tooru grins at that. He’d forgotten Iwaizumi was on the team. “Do you want to meet up when I get back? Bring your books. I’ll annotate them for you.”

Tooru laughs, fingers dancing against the spine. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

#bdayking2017 #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #iwaoi #haikyuu #fanfiction #starlight #happy birthday oikawa!

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topicprinter · 5 years ago

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I will go toe-to-toe with anyone about “business knowledge.” That doesn’t mean that I’ll know more about any given topic, but I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that I will be able hold my own whether they’re a subject matter expert academic or a successful CEO.While that may be extremely gratifying to my skills as a conversationalist, on the complete opposite end of that spectrum I can’t go toe-to-toe with damn near anyone when it comes to annual revenue, customers, money raised, successful exits, or many of the other traditional measures of success in business. Despite my wealth of firsthand experience and the breadth of my “multi-disciplinary knowledge,” if I had to quantify my entrepreneurial success or business acumen using their usual manifestations (i.e. financial statements or the size of my platform), then I would be hard pressed to state my case in a positive light.From the outside looking in, it would be easy to dismiss my “knowledge” as mere talk. Hot air. Empty words.To be honest, that’s been the source of a bit of an existential crisis at times (enough so that it prompted me to write this article). And while no one could fault me for lack of effort, ingenuity, grit or ambition, I have been counseled to “get a real job!” more than once. If you’ve found your way to this article then maybe that is an experience you can relate to as well.I like to say that I have delusional confidence - things do not have to be going my way in order for me to feel confident about my abilities or self-worth. I firmly believe that failure is just as important to the process as success. Together they form yet another aspect to the Yin and Yang of life. And while that mentality may give me a respectable suit of armor to wear in the face of concern from friends and family (not to mention from myself), at what point might that attitude cause me to miss the proverbial writing on the wall and become what Sonny so aptly labeled “wasted talent”?I know I’ve had to ask myself that question before. Maybe you have too.If you’re browsing /r/entrepreneur then there’s a good chance that it’s not because your business is thriving and you need a reprieve from crushing the game. That’s a pretty broad and somewhat unfavorable generalization, but it is what it is and I’ll stand by it. Don’t worry though, I’m not about to turn this into a motivational speaker’s call to action and tell you to go out there and take demonstrable, non-busy-work action towards your goals (because you already know that :p).What I’d like to impart is some knowledge about the game that I’ve picked up over the ~6 years I’ve been wearing my entrepreneurial heart on my sleeve. Unfortunately, as my preamble suggests, this advice isn’t coming from a “winner.” I’m just another player, like you, so take it for what it’s worth… but I’m standing on the shoulder of giants here.There’s a quote from Bill Gates that I’ve come to appreciate more and more over the years. He said that “most people overestimate what they can do in one year and underestimate what they can do in ten years.” If you’re into entrepreneurial lore then this probably isn’t news to you, but my goal here is to bring that esoteric advice down to Earth.Right around this time last year I had a startup that was on the verge of being bought out after a 2-year, mostly self-funded battle to keep the dream alive. It was my second real attempt at a start up (aka “all-in”), and I applied every one of the lessons I’d learned from the failures of my first venture. Nevertheless, I was still defrauded by manufacturers, over charged by suppliers, bullied by payment processors, denied legal protections from the USPTO… if something could have gone wrong it did, and yet I persevered all the way to the negotiation table by overcoming each of those issues along the way.As part of the launch I had planned to write an article titled “What Does It Take To Be Successful? Let Me Tell You What It’s Taken Me To Get Started.” It was going to be part content marketing, since it would have been about the business, but also part motivational battle cry to struggling entrepreneurs everywhere. I wanted to write an article that saying the things I would liked to have heard during the not-so-great moments on the road to becoming a fully funded business.Alas, that day never came.I still plan on writing that article (so don’t steal my title!), but it was Providence’s plan for me to learn about investor disputes and how to defend myself from a legal shakedown instead (yet another topic I can now confidently discuss!).I’ve remained purposely vague on the details because I didn’t want this to turn into a discussion about what I could have or should have done, or how it Is all my fault and that I’m just blaming others for my failures. All of that, while true to some degree or another, is besides the point.My start up’s product was cool. I had a great proof of concept. I’d demonstrated a market “need,” I had a pretty good idea how to market and distribute it, a clear path to profitability - all the things investors are looking for. What’s interesting though, and what stood out to me during that whole process, was that they were much less interested in that stuff because I probably wouldn’t have gotten in front of them without that level of polish to begin with.What really piqued their interest was my story.Whenever I found myself in front of an investor their faces would light up when I’d talk about the adversities I’d overcome. They loved hearing about the struggle. Heads would nod emphatically as I talked about the lessons learned from overcoming obstacles and how I would (try) to apply them going forward. From there our discussion would almost always turns to their own war stories of being defrauded, missing opportunities, making the wrong judgement calls - on and on about failure.They didn’t ultimately invest (otherwise you’d be reading the first article!), but I always got the nod of approval and added someone potentially important to my network. Hopefully it’s like Bill was saying - we might not connect this year, but maybe at some point in the next ten years our paths will cross again.They always say that investors invest in the team, so how does the team become worthy of investment?!Experience. More specifically, I’d say it’s the experience gained from the experiences you’re probably doing everything in your power to avoid (as you should).Don’t get me wrong - the more money you want to raise the more that experience has to include success, but you cannot show grit without overcoming adversity. You cannot demonstrate impressive problem solving abilities without having solved some seemingly insurmountable problems. You’ll be hard pressed to prove that you’re in it for the next x-years without having already toiled through the ups and downs of business for some fraction of that time.Why would a customer give you their money if they were concerned about whether or not you'll be around to offer support after the sale? How can an investor feel that their investment is safe unless the team is has proven themselves? How can the team believe in its leader without that leader having been battle tested? How can you feel confident in taking on more than you’ve ever taken on before without being able to look upon your scars from surviving past battles with pride?If your business isn’t going the way you want it to, or even more generally if your life isn’t going the way you want it to (and they’re often intimately related, amirite?!), then hopefully this article can inspire you to work on gaining some of my “delusional” confidence. The shit moments pay for the successes later on, so long as you accept that to be true and own it. It doesn’t happen by accident or if you keep passing the buck. It takes extreme accountability and a growth mindset.Another great quote is from the poet laureate Homer J. Simpson, who said to his son, Bart, “Son, never try. It’s the first step to failure.”That quote is so powerful it might as well be the guiding principle in most people’s lives. Take a moment right now on this Day of Thanks to congratulate yourself and be grateful for the fact that you put yourself in a position to enjoy your failures, because that means you’ve already taken the hardest step of all - you took a chance.Succeeding is easy. Hell, taking a failure on the chin really isn’t all that bad either because you knew it was always a risk, right? But taking a chance?! Man. That’s tough. Putting yourself out there is the precursor to everything in life, so don’t let anything stop you from being willing to take chances.I’m sure some of the wordsmiths out there cringed at my use of the word “esoteric” for Bill’s advice because it seems so general, but there’s a difference between understanding and Understanding what he said.Capital “U” Understanding takes experience. It takes time in service and surviving the ups and downs of the path less traveled. The seed you planted 10 years ago won’t ever turn into a tree if you didn’t plan it in the first place!A great follow-up to that quote is the Chinese proverb which says that the best time to plant a tree was 20-years ago, but the second best time is today.So! Keep putting yourself out there and rejoice at the lessons you’re gaining from your most recent failure or your current state of stagnation. It’s going to be hard to make it from wherever you’re at now to wherever you’re trying to go - open up any book from the ancient world and you’ll see that that’s just the way it is. Be accountable for your failures and accept them as the price paid for the lessons you’ve learned along the way.Pay that price gladly. Be thankful for the allowing yourself to take the road less traveled.The confidence you gain from this mentality is not actually delusional if you’re being honest with yourself, it’s the only true kind of confidence there is (at least that’s what I tell myself!).You might have to get a “real job” one day, and we all know that means it’ll be the kind of “real job” that makes pursuing your entrepreneurial dreams next to impossible. My advice? Take the job, save more money/motivation than you can now, and get back out there to try again!You’ve got this. Happy Thanksgiving!

#/r/entrepreneur #reddit

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