#ive had pocket rice in my head for days now

[skelekins]

>:O

Snaps chasing Kelek around, and Kelek goes 'oh shit rice!' points and makes Snaps look.

Follows it by "pocket rice~" and throws rice at the back of his head before fleeing. The next time it happens Snaps is like ">:} im not falling for that"

so Kelek chucks a bitty Rice at Snaps face while yelling pocket rice

[clearlydiamondz]

Make Up For It

Erik Stevens x OC

Part ONE

p.2

---------------------------

After a year of not seeing Erik, Jada has been faced with him in a sticky situation. 

Warnings: Blood, Mention of Medical Procedure

--------------------------

Jada laid back into the bathtub, letting the smell of the sweet candles fill her senses. She needed this.. in so many ways than others. After working 12 hours all week this week in the ICU, she was finally off for the next three days. She spoiled herself with some crab legs and dirty rice. She caught up in some of her reality T.V and her favorite anime (7 Deadly Sins), and now she was relaxing in her bath tub. 

She was dozing off until she heard the noise coming from her downstairs. Instantly she jolted up. At first she just thought it was her imagination until she heard whispers. She got out the bathtub before walking into her bedroom and grabbing her pistol that her brother King, got her to protect herself. She wrapped the black robe around her body before slowly opening her door. 

She walked down the stairs, holding the pistol taking it off of safety. She turned the corner to hear the talk get louder. “I thought you said she was off these days?” She recognized that voice. It was her brother.

“I thought she was here.” She recognized that voice too. How could she not? That was her ex-boyfriend. Erik Stevens. Gosh she missed him. How could she not? They’ve been together since high school. She was his right hand women while he ran his empire. But after a really bad break up, she cut all ties with him. Now it’s been almost year since she last seen him. 

“Bruh let’s just dip.” That was a voice she did recognize. 

She turned on the lights before saying, “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in each of your knee caps.” she said. That was until she saw Erik and the other boy holding her brother up. “What the hell happened to him?” she said putting the gun on safety and placing it on the side table. 

“We were at the club, next thing you know gun shots were being ring. He got hit.” Erik said as she closed her eyes. He was lying out his ass. 

“Lay him down on the couch.” he was laid down as he groaned. She unbuttoned his shirt seeing the wound. “What time did this happen?”

“Not even 30 minutes ago..” her brother said as she nodded licking her teeth. 

“So you guys think I’m stupid.. right?” she said looking at the two of them. 

“What are you even talking about?”

“If this happened 30 minutes ago, why is there brown dried up blood already around the wound. And you can see around the area where the skin in starting to die.”  she said pointing it out. “I know you like the back of my hand, you’re lying to me.” she snapped standing up pointing at Erik.

“We ain’t lying it’s-”

“I’m sorry.. who are you?”  she asked the random man.

“Oh, I’m DJ.” he said as she looked between the three of them. She stood up.

“Tell me what happened.” she said looking at the three, as Erik rolled his eyes.

“Bruh we’re not fucking lying.” 

“Okay.. play dumb then. I’ma play along with ya ass.” she walked to her kitchen, grabbing her house phone dialing 911. “Wait wait, don’t call 911!” King exclaimed. He looked at Erik nodding his head. 

“We were doing a raid between one of the rivals, it went left. They hit him and we just came back into town.” Erik said as she closed her eyes. 

“Why didn’t you guys go to a fucking hospital!” she yelled at him as King scoffed.

“And risk going to jail. No thank-”

“Shut up King! Do you not understand that you could have died! I don’t give a fuck about none of that shit!” she snapped at him. King sat back, listening to his sister. “And the fuck am I suppose to do? I don’t have supplies here?” she asked Erik tilted his head in confusion. 

“What about the emergency kit we had.”

“I threw it out. Supplies in there was expired. And why would I keep knowing that you-” she stopped herself before looking at her brother. “You need to take him to the hospital. The wound is already getting affected.” she told them as King groaned. 

“Jada look, I understand you’re mad at us but-”

“This does not have anything to do with being mad, look at my fucking brother Erik.” she snapped at him.

“Jada… please. I can’t go back to jail man.” King said to her. She saw the tears building up in his eyes as she scratched her forehead. “Someone stay here with him, we can go to the pharmacy up the road to get supplies.” she said turning around. She walked back up the stairs to get dress.

“I’ll go with her.” DJ said as Erik scoffed. 

“Nah nigga.. I see the way you lookin at her and that shit ain’t happening.” Erik said. DJ stared down at Erik crossed his hands over his chest. “You tryna fuck my-”

“Aye.. first of all that’s my fucking sister you’re talking about. And two, I’m right here.” King said as Erik rolled his eyes. Jada came back down with grey stacked sweatpants, a black tank top, and black flip flops. She had a white rag in her hand before walking to King. She took off the button up as he winced out. 

“Hold this on his wound. I don’t know how much blood he lost so let’s try and keep what he has in his body please. Put pressure on it.” she told him. He followed her instructions before grabbing her keys and her gun placing it in her waistband. 

“Nah, we are driving my car-”

“Do you really think you’re in the position right now to make any decisions?” she cuts him off. Erik smacked his teeth listening to her. He’s not even going to lie, he miss this. She was the only one on planet Earth that he allowed to talk to him like that. 

“Plus, if what you said is true, there are people from the raid all over this city looking for you. You’re car is probably being searched for as we speak.” she said making her way to the garage. They got into her car, as she backed out of the driveway. They rode through the dead city, the car silent. 

“You know I didn’t mean for him to get hurt.. right?” she gripped the steering wheel, before nodding. 

“Erik I know..” she said looking at the road. “But you didn’t have to lie..” she reminded him. 

“I just know how you get when it comes down to him..” 

“Yeah but you also know that I don’t like being left in the dark.” she said pulling into the parking lot. She found a close parking spot before stepping out. He followed her inside seeing her grab the things she needed. 

“We need to stop by the hospital. There’s a couple of things that we need to get that they don’t have in here.” she said. 

After paying for everything, they made their way to the hospital. “Stay here.” he instructed her. “No I need to come with you.”

“Erik It’s fine.. I got this,” she walked into the 

“Excuse me, who are you?”

“Oh I’m the lead for the ICU unit. I left my charger in the break room and came by to pick it up.” she said as the nurse looked her up and down. 

“Yeah. Hopefully it’s still in there.” You know how people can get with their sticky fingers.” she joked as Jada chuckled. She went to the supply closet before grabbing some of the items she needed. She made her way out to the car to see Erik sitting in the car. 

“You got everything.” 

“Yeah, let’s head back.”

After this little procedure, she had them put him in one of the spare bedrooms she had in her house. She told them to leave the room so she could have privacy with her brother. She sat on the floor on the side of the bed as he looked at her. “I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend you day off.” he said to her as she nodded.

“I’m so glad you know so..” she said to him as he chuckled. 

“I’m sorry that I lied to you..” he randomly said as she chuckled. 

“I’m just glad that you’re alive...” she told him as he nodded. There was silence before he spoke up. “You know Erik still wants to be with you.” he said as she scoffed. 

“Erik is the least of my worries right now, no offense.” she told him as he chuckled. 

“I’m serious, give that nigga a chance. Do you know how much he’s obsessed with you? Asking me every other day are you okay? Do you need money? Like damn call her your damn self.” he mocked him as he chuckled. Jada looked down on at the ground playing with her hands. 

“You need to rest. I’ll be back in a few hours to refill your IV.” she told him. She kissed him on the forehead before turning the lights off and walking out his room. Erik stood on the other side of the hallway.

“How’s he doing?” 

“He’s fine, he didn’t loose that much blood thankfully.” she said. 

“That’s good.” he said putting his hands in his pockets.

“I need to talk-” “Can we talk?”

They both said at the same time. They both laughed before she said, “Let’s go to my bar and have a drink?”

They walked to her bar as she grabbed two whiskey glasses, pouring some Hennessy into each one. He grabbed it before taking a sip. “I miss you..” was all she said before he looked at her leaning against the counter. He smirked bringing the glass to his lips. 

“That must’ve been really hard to admit.. huh?” she hit him in the arm as he chuckled. He placed the glass on the counter before looking her up and down. 

“I missed you too... that whole situation spiraled outta control honestly. And it’s a shame that shit had us to stubborn to not talk to each other for almost a damn year.” he said as she sighed looking down. 

“What does that mean for us?” she asked him as he walked closer to her closing the gap. He basically towered over her making her weak in the knees. 

“I feel like we both know.” he whispered to her. “I don’t know about you, but I got a lotta of making up to do.” he said hooking his index finger along the strap of the tank top. He let it hang off her shoulder as tilted her head over. He placed soft kisses on her shoulder as she sighed in pleasure.

“I have to makeup for a birthday, valentines day.” he whispered. He undid the other strap. 

“Erik..” she whispered as he pulled away from her. 

“Can I make it up to you?”

[ivyuns]

landing in my heart: closer

genre: angst, slight fluff

word count: 2.3k

warnings: location is in north korea, jealousy, guns, car crashes, kinda rushed lol

part three of landing in my heart

landing in my heart information

“what did you just say?”

“i would appreciate if you put the gun away from my fiancee”

“she belongs to division 11. and for those who doesnt know, shes unable to release her personal information. now if you mind, my fiancee is exhausted from her recent mission she came back from” jisung told everybody. on point, your body falls onto jisung’s shoulders, acting as if you were actually exhausted.

jisung takes you to his property till you two are out of sight until jisung clears his throat. “you can let go now” without hesitation, you let go and immediately asks whats division 11 is all about. telling you everything, you enter the house with jisung trailing behind you.

jisung takes you to his property till you two are out of sight until jisung clears his throat. “you can let go now” without hesitation, you let go and immediately asks whats division 11 is all about. telling you everything, you enter the house with jisung trailing behind you.

jisung offers you a cup of water and telling you to drink it to calm down. you gladly accept it as he takes a deep breath. “house inspections happens randomly, but i didnt expect it to happen today. im sorry”

“well, im sure you were equally surprised by it too, so no worries. and you showed up on perfect timing too” you smiled at him, drinking the water then looking around. “by the way, are you hurt? are you okay?” jisung asks while hes checking up on you for any hurt wounds. looking up and making eye contact, you see how his eyes were full of worry. shaking you head a no, you smile at him and was distrubed by knocks on jisungs gates.

“captain han! are you there?!”

jisung goes to open the door and sees the village women, who had heard about the news about you and offers him food. feeling like he couldnt hold any plates, they offer him to help him and take it into the house until you appear behind him.

“o-oh! nice to meet you, captain han’s fiancee” one of the women says. greeting them back, you grab one of the plate full of food from jisung. before you two could go, they ask you where your last mission was, what was it about and how was it. expecting to answer all their questions, you replied as “im sorry, i cant have my information out there”. the women gasp, shocked at they way you talked to them.

jisung tells them to go home and have a good night. doing what theyre told, they walked away and you close the gate. “is captain han really in love with her?” “is this a one-sided love?” “look at her hair, it looks so messy!” hearing all the comments they made about you made you stop your tracks, as long as jisung. gritting you teeth in annoyance, you two continued to go inside the house and ate the food they made for you two.

as you two got ready for bed, jisung made you sleep in the living room as he slept in his room. talking though the closed door, you asked him if he ever went to switzerland. “sorry if im being nosy. but i saw piano sheets and an application form from switzerland. did you have a girlfriend that you would play the piano to?” with no response from him, you drifted to sleep.

after the years go by, yiseo is back in pyongyang. passing the gates, yiseo bumps into minseok, who smiles at her and lets her go first. yiseo smiles back and proceeds until she sees her uncle, myeongseok. “ah, look at my yiseo. you lost a lot of weight during your studies in russia.”

“damn, its always the north korean women who have the best taste” minseok tells himself, but as his bodyguard hears him, he tells them to be careful of what he says. minseok then tells him he will pay him an extra 10,000 won if hed stop nagging him, but hell pay minseok 10,000 won if he nags to him again.

as yiseo and myeongseok stops at their car outside the airport, she realized what happened to the other car. “uncle, wheres the other car?” she asks. “oh, i had to lend it to jisung” “are you going to pick it up or is he bringing it back here” “im sure i can go there and pick it up after my recital tomorrow” “huh?! are you sure? i didnt even mention you were coming back to him because he never asks about you” “what kind of woman doesnt remember her fiance?”

the coal mine.

cheolgang enters the coal mine and enters the wire-trapper room after greeting his soldiers. the soldiers gets up from their seats and salutes cheolgang. “ive seen you all work hard, thank you”. manbok hears cheolgang and immediately salutes him. cheolgang tells manbok to follow him into the back exit.

“sir, what brings you all the way here?” manbok asks. “ri muyeok’s brother is now in the outpost. so i need you to wire his house. theres a women in there and im using it to ruin his family” as cheolgang finishes. manbok gets flashbacks about jisung’s brother.

7 years ago.

“you see, my little brother is studying in switzerland right now” muyeok says in the car with another soldier. “mmhm, hes a piano genius with a full scholarship. but everytime i call him, hes always sorry. maybe its because one of us had to follow our dads path” muyeok replies. “did you wanted to be on the piano path?” “nah, i wasnt into it as jisung was so i took this path” the soldier nods his head. “but he told me when he gets back, he’ll play a song for me, so im excited for that. i bet itll put me in a happy mood”

manbok, who listens to their conversation, helping cheolgang with his favor; killing muhyeok. telling where the driver to go, they collied with muyeoks vehicle. hearing the crashing noises made manbok go numb.

everyones outside the village, looking though jisung’s car, full of excitement. eavesdropping from the gate, jisung comes behind you and tells you hes leaving. “wait let me walk you out. so those women can see what i actually look like since it was dark outside” “no, theres no time for that. also, here. tie it up” jisung gives you a handkerchief. “tie what up?” jisung turns you around and ties your hair up, securing it with a double knot.

heading out of the gate together, you pretended to play the good wife and walked jisung out of the house. before he could leave your sight, you grabbed his wrist and told him to pat you hair, as if you two were being real about your engagement. he then pats your house as everyone is disgusted at your actions. you then tell him to wave at you in which he did. waving at him back, he turns around and heads to the base, bowing at people.

the village women from last night shows up to jisungs house after bad talking about you, inviting for a kimchi battle, you refuse.

back at the base, all soldiers are in an array. “hwang hyunjin, lee felix, kim seungmin, and yang jeongin. all of you but the four of you, head to the shooting range”

with everyone gone but the five of them, they meeting in jisung’s office. “so what did you tell them” hyunjin asks. “i told them shes my fiancee” everyone gasp loudly. “guys just be quiet right now. we just need a plan for her to get back on the boat”

as the four men walk to jisungs house as jisung himself goes to where the accident happened. as he talks to the soldier that was the guard for the place couldnt see what exactly happened since it was dark but he took note on how empty the cargo was and how the front the truck had armor. a very sharp armor.

in south korea, sehyeong calls the people who are helping him track down minseok, telling them to go to the places where he think hes hiding at. at the family meeting, both sehyeong and sejun continue to fight over who would be the next heir. sanga recommends the la vie en rose should be over if your disappearance is longer than expected.

in the village, you can see how hard life is as a north korean. telling the boys that youre off into the house to get potatoes, you noticed a little boy stealing one of the jackets. as the boys saw, they quickly ran towards the little boy and manages to stop him, as a bag of rice falls off of his pocket. “let me go! i need to feed my sister who hasnt eaten in 3 days and because of that, she cant open her eyes!”

making everyone come back to the house, you grabbed food from the cupboards as hyunjin is speaking nonsense. “you really act like this is your own house. youre giving away food thats not even yours to some boy whos lying” after putting the food into a tote bag, as well as a small blanket, youre stopped as you see jisung. “captain han! hes faking it!” hyunjin yells out. “no im not!”

“shut up hyunjin” you shut him up. jisung tells the little boy to wash his face and hands before eating so that he can prevent getting sick. after he washes he face and hands, he runs towards his little sister, who is sleeping alone under cardboard and a small sheet covering it. finally happy to feed his sister.

after that is finished, everyone gathers around and spends time with you before you leave tonight. “okay everyone! today i will give you awards to claim once we meet again” “awards!? are you a general or something?-” “and the first award goes to yang jeongin !” you say as you cut off hyunjin. “now you have two choices. you can use your prize as we see each other again or get it now. when we meet, youll get 100 million won, or get 8 corn now” “ill get the corn!”

“second prize goes to lee felix! your prize when we meet again is have lunch with jiwoo or get the tv right there” you pointed to jisungs tv. “look-” “dont worry, hell pick the first one” you whisper back to jisung. “ill pick the first one” felix gets up and claims his award.

“third one goes to the most handsome is ... kim seungmin!” jisung looks at you with disbelief. “you can have a blind date with miss korea or any award youd like” “ill choose none” nodding you head, you agreed seungmin is like the boys in south korea.

“okay thats all-” “wait what about me” hyunjin asks. “seriously? fine here, have this shampoo, conditioner, and bodywash” as you threw him the bag full of the products jisung got you earlier. “what the- captain han you really bought her this?!” “she said it was essentials”

after announcing the awards and coming to the end, jisung gets up as jealousy is on him, and goes out of the house. following him behind, you take him to your thank you gift for him; tomatoes after giving the seller half of jisungs potato sack since you didnt have any money. however, jisungs not impressed since he doesnt like tomatoes and doesnt properly treat it well. “whatever, just water it and say 10 nice things to it”

the night comes and everything leads to the end. the 4 men are back, eating corn on the mountain near the base with the moon shinning on them. “i feel sad now” jeongin speaks, stopping the silence. “after all the complications, its now the end”

you and jisung go inside the car jisung borrowed from myeonseok. heading to the dock where youre finally going home. taking off the handkerchief jisung gave you for you hair and folding it, you put it in the middle. “thank you for everything. i mean it” you told him. “we wont see each other again, right?” “probably” jisung answers. “its such a shame that you live here.” “its a shame that you live there” you chuckled at his joke, creating silence in the car once again.

parking the car near the deck, felix’s dad comes out of his boat as you two walk out. giving him the ticket, he asks if its just you. “no, the two of us. ill return after she is on the other boat” jisung says as you widen your eyes at him.

going onto the boat and sailing into the middle of the ocean. “since we probably wont see each other again, my name is yoon y/n” jisung looks at you with sincere eyes. “my name is han jisung” jisung smiles.

“ah, im a member of the haeju yoon clan. haeju is in north korea right?” “im a member of hanju han clan” “the irony!” both of you laugh, making jisung feeling happy after a while.

suddenly, a flash a light flashed the boat. “stop the boat!” yelled the other boat who was trailing behind felix’s dads boat. you and jisung hid under the boat as the boat was stopped. the police were investigating the boat. “were here to see your honesty and see if youre trading goods or smuggling humans to other countries” “why would i do that?” the police stomps on the blue hallow board, which was where you and jisung were hiding.

“open up!” was what you both heard underneath. “jisung! what do we do?! youre a soldier you should know what to do. geez” you silently yelled out. “in south korean dramas-” “what?! this is no time to talk about this” you freaked out. “im going to do something. now look at me and dont be startled. look at me and nothing else”

with that, jisung slams his lips into yours as the door opened.

additional ending:

after you leave jisung alone with the tomato plant, jisung bends down and tells 10 nice words.

“sunshine, happiness, rose, friends, breeze, cheekies, family, flowers, love, and piano”

[cherishedkids]

waiting || tokito muichiro x reader

anime: kimetsu no yaiba  warning/s: sad, spoilers from the manga, character deaths, description of gore words: 1,349 pairing/s: tokito muichiro x reader request: “ hiiii may i request angst with fluffy ending for muichiro x reader who was also a demon slayer but died a few days/weeks earlier than him??? then both of them are reincarnated in the present and they became a couple again 👉👈 “ - anon

A/N: sorry for the wait!! ive been trying to get back into my groove,,, there arent much muichiro gifs so i hope u dont mind if i reuse them??? plz enjoy anon!! 💕💕

--

Blood.

There was nothing else that Muichiro saw except for the red liquid. The anger that resided within him was far worse, burning up everything and everyone in his path. He was covered in it, not sure if it was his or if it belonged to the demon in front of him. But it made no difference. By the end of this battle, the both of them were going to die.

He looked at Kokushibo in the eyes. Although his arm and leg was gone, Muichiro did not feel weakened by the pain. In fact, he reveled in it. It was the only thing keeping him awake, aside from his sheer willpower. Any moment, he would die of blood loss, but it was a fate he was not afraid to face. He was willing to sacrifice himself, for the sake of the corps, and for his fleeting dream of seeing you again.

His sword was already deep inside the demon, and all he waited was for the killing shot by one of his comrades. He was already feeling weakened and his head was spinning. It was fine. He was going to see you soon.

The hard ground below him did nothing to cushion him after the demon was defeated. He laid still on the ground, as his allies gathered around him, but he knew what would happen. He didn’t want to escape it. Death was always an option. It was one you chose, and it was one that he would be chasing now.

You stared at death in the face, but it attached itself to you, not wanting to let go. He swore revenge, and he did. The strongest demon, next to Muzan, was dead. His ancestor was defeated. You could rest easy now.

Tanjiro’s face was in front of him. The older boy’s eyes, full of concern and worry.

“Muichiro, hold on--”

He coughed, and the both of them knew this was his last hour. “There’s no need, Tanjiro, I…”

In the blinding light, all he could see was you. You beckoned for him to come forward, and he rushed forwards, refusing to waste a single moment.

“I’m coming for you, ___.”

Those were the last words of Tokito Muichiro, relayed by Tanjiro to the others. He recalled tears coming out of his eyes, as he tried to reach out for someone, his only hand shaking, as his life slowly dimmed. 

-

Soft hands touched his cheek, thumb rubbing circles. When he opened his eyes, he saw curious but familiar ones staring back at him. You smiled at him, one that he dearly missed. His head was on your lap, and you sat on the ground. There was nothing else around, only darkness. But you were all that he needed.

“___,” He whispered out, and the name coming out of his lips almost felt strange. It had been a long time since he last uttered it, but he repeated it multiple times. “___, ___, ___!”

You just nodded with him, and he got up from his position. He sat directly in front of you, and he cupped your cheeks with his hands.

“It really is you,”

Your hand came up to wrap around his. “Of course, it’ll always be me, Muichiro,”

Tears came out of your eyes, and he wiped them away. “Don’t cry,”

But you laughed at that, as you seemed like you were looking at a mirror. He himself was crying! “Look at yourself first,”

He embraced you, pressing you against his chest, seemingly never wanting to let go. “When we get reincarnated, I’ll find you,”

“I know,”

“I’ll make you happy and spend all my time with you,”

“I know,”

“We’ll be together forever, away from all this… bloodshed,”

“I know,” All you could do was reply with the same two words, as you were afraid that if you spoke anymore, your voice would crack. You didn’t want to cry anymore, so you did your best trying to cherish this moment. 

“Wait for me,” He whispered out, as a bright light enveloped the both of you.

--

Muichiro sighed for the umpteenth time today. His brother, Yuichiro, had forgotten to bring their lunch boxes, so he was forced to walk all the way to the cafeteria today. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, fidgeting with the coins he had. He could buy a few rice balls, or a burger, but neither of those appealed to him. 

“Man, what a pain,” He muttered to no one in particular, and turned a corner. It was almost deserted, save for a few people conversing with each other. Yuichiro had already gone ahead to the canteen with their group of friends, as he was asleep in the middle of the class. He grumbled, thinking why his brother didn’t think of waking him up for lunch.

It would be alright with him, but he shuddered at the thought of wrestling in line just for mediocre food. It was nothing compared to the cooking of his own mother, and there was no doubt in his mind that he would be in a bad mood today.

He came to a halt, as someone passed him by,  their shampoo leaving a pleasant scent behind. He wasn’t really sure when he saw this person, perhaps in a dream? But their face was one that he was mesmerized by. Judging from their uniform, he was in the same batch as he was, but he hadn’t noticed them before.

His eyes lingered on them, as their figure walked downstairs, never noticing him. Something inside him wanted to meet this person. His objective forgotten, he raced to talk to this person. He would never approach a complete stranger like this, but there was something about them that just reminded him of home. 

Was this love at first sight? His chest was weak, and his breath was becoming unstable. It sure didn’t feel like love. He didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling, but it did feel like he had just found something that used to be lost to time. Like he was honoring something his ancestor had entrusted to him. God, he sounded like a lunatic.

He had finally caught up to this mysterious person, and with bated breath, he asked. “Excuse me, can I get your name?”

When your eyes met him as you turned around, he swore he could feel his heart skip a beat. All that they said about feeling love was true. A hundred butterflies swarmed around in his stomach, his heart was beating like crazy, and his face was getting warmer by the second. It was all because of a single person.

“Oh, it’s ___… why?” You said, and he repeated the name in his mind. Familiarity surged through his body.

“Would you like to get lunch with me?” He put everything on this one question. He wasn’t thinking about being rejected--in fact, he wasn’t even sure if he was thinking. His focus was only on you.

You blushed, and you nodded, letting him lead the way. Under normal circumstances, you never would have agreed to a stranger asking you to lunch, but the second your eyes landed on him, it suddenly felt like everything was going to be alright. For some reason, in his presence, you felt at ease, and that you could trust him right then and there.

“May I also get your name?” You asked, waiting for his answer.

“My name’s Muichiro.”

It was a story you often told to your friends, and your children, if they were willing. There was familiarity in both of your eyes, and you just hit it off right away. Muichiro would half-heartedly dismiss it, saying that he was the one who saw you first, and you just followed along, but the both knew there was something deeper to it.

There was no question about it, it was a love that hoped for a better future. One with no deaths and only happiness before it. It was a hope that wished for better days. A hope that the both of you kept alive.

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: *falls off his chair* juyeon

Genre: BIG ANGST + drama with chaebol/lawyer juyeon

A/N: NOTE THAT THIS IS A TRIGGER WARNING. I can’t include the reason because it’ll be a spoiler BUT THIS IS FICTITIOUS SO DON’T COME @ ME PLEASE

A/N pt 2: there isn’t much juyeon in this chapter so skip it if you just want some juyeon one shots

Links to other parts:

I Never Wanna See You Again

Frustrated (light smut)

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut)

Stigma

Bourbon

Highway To Heaven (smut)

I Like Me Better

All Time Low

~

“so much for ‘i love you’.”

“are you sure you want to get on a more-than-twelve-hour flight to freakin’--” sunwoo grabs your passport and flips it open. “Amsterdam?” 

you snatch the passport back, shoving it into the pocket of your knee-length coat. 

“you ran from your family once...” chanhee looks at you with pleading eyes. “are you sure you want to run from this one?”

looking up from the passport, luggage next to your legs and surrounded by your friends, you scan the big, block letters that spell ‘departure’ across the entrance to the hall. 

“i’m not running. i just need to think.”

“the last time you were on a plane, you hurled from the turbulence,” eric scolds. “and it was a three-hour flight.”

you roll your eyes and raise a brow at your friends. they were all just finding ways to convince you stay instead of watching you leave the country just days after you find them jobs that were extremely high-paying. 

the calls you made were probably setting off a thousand alarms that would alert both your parents, since you were relying on the contacts you had as a chaebol. it was just a matter of time before they’d figure out that you left the country or something. 

“so what if i hurl? i’ll be fine when the plane lands.”

chanhee’s features were strained, and eric sighs, pulling you into a hug and giving you a brotherly rub on your head. 

“call us when you get there and tell us when you’re coming back, we’ll come get you.” eric releases you and sunwoo gives you a gently punch to your arm. you nod and look to chanhee, your arms already reaching out to him. 

chanhee takes a small step backwards, eyes looking like he was hurt. you knew he was upset with you for blowing things out of proportion with juyeon. if you didn’t try to defend him, the whole argument with juyeon wouldn’t have happened. but it was a fact that he crossed the line, and it had nothing to do with chanhee.

“if i let you hug me, then it means there’s a chance you’re going to run and i’ll never see you again.”

your arms remained stretched out but your head droops to the side, pouting a little and walking towards him regardless.

“i’m not going to run, chanhee,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “and even if i do, i’ll come back just to see you guys. you have my word.”

you hear him sigh in resignation and his arms find your lower back. “i’ll hold you to that. i’ll hunt you down myself if you disappear off the face of earth.”

you snicker as you pulled back, constantly swallowing your saliva so you don’t burst into ugly tears. 

you settle down in your seat and the passenger next to you greets you kindly. the skies outside the window next to you provided you the warmth and a strange feeling of freedom, but there was so much weight in your heart, you were worried the plane wouldn’t even take off. 

you recall the first time you were on a plane. it was a private flight to paris with your parents when you were still a kid. you spent half the time throwing up because of the turbulence.

the second time you were on a plane, it was with eric, chanhee and sunwoo to a nearby country. they watched you hurl out your meals like a fountain and though it might’ve been a little mean and annoying in that point of time, you look back now and realise that all they were trying to do was to make you laugh and get your mind off your motion-sickness.

you wouldn’t be who you were today if it weren’t for them. 

had they not dragged you onto a plane, you’d probably still be scared to fly with your motion sickness. but thanks to them, it didn’t matter anymore. it doesn’t matter if you threw up, all you needed to do was think about them and you’ll be fine. 

you watch the sunset below the clouds that look like cotton and marshmallows, the constant whirring of the vehicle was slowly but surely getting to your head. the pressure of being in the sky was squeezing the juices out of your brain and making your eyes tear up. your ears were slightly blocked, so blasting music didn’t really help.

you feel the familiar ball of stomach acid push itself up your throat and into your chest, and you barely get the words out to the passenger next to you before she shifts and lets you out. 

you watch the half-digested grains of rice and fruit spew out through your lips and into the toilet bowl, the material on your knees soaking up whatever liquid that was on the floor. might’ve been pee, but who cares?

“miss, are you alright?”

“yeah--” you belch out a disgusting scent, a mixture of vomit and food. “i’m okay.” 

you grab a handful of tissue and wipe your lips, leaning back on your heels before losing your balance when the plane shakes a little. your back hits the wall of the cabin, and a headache rips through your temples. 

you grit your teeth and groans of pain unconsciously pour out through your lips, your hands now pressing into your ear as the pressure in them become physical pain. 

“miss! are you okay? do you need any assistance?”

“i’m fine!” you snap back. “it’s just a little... headache--”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“stay with me forever.”

“i can’t pretend you’re not the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“i love you.”

you vision widens and start to focus, but you frown to yourself when you process nothing besides a plain, white ceiling with amber lights lining the edges. 

you inhale a deep breath and you give your nerves a moment to find your fingers. you blink so slowly, you were wondering if you were paralyzed or if your brain was just processing it super slowly.

“you’re awake.”

that voice.

turning in search of the source, your eyes catch a glimpse of the room you were in. there was a table in the corner of the room, a television mounted to the wall, and the floor was carpeted with a cream colored rug. 

you process the views before you spot an IV drip, and it was hooked up to your left hand. the blanket was riled up to your stomach, and the scent of the room knocks some sense into your thinking. 

you were in a hospital ward.

“where am i?” you breathe lightly, shutting your lids and rolling your eyes under to make sure you weren’t in a dream. 

“in amsterdam, where else?” 

“what date and time is it?” you look behind him and note the pathetic amount of afternoon sunlight spilling through the blinds that were closed. 

“i don’t know how that’s going to tell you how long you’ve been here, but you passed out halfway on your flight here. you’ve been in this bed for more than thirty hours.”

you suck in a sharp breath and cover your eyes with one arm, the disgusting scent of medicine and antiseptic making your lungs hurt. 

“how did you know i was here?”

dumb question to ask.

“it was a little difficult to ignore the calls you were making to my sub-ordinates and colleagues and partners. adding on the fact that your mother called to scream at me about you getting on a plane here,” your father gets out of the sofa next to your bed and walks around to the table, pouring a glass of water. “i wasn’t very keen on hearing her out until she told me your flight was to amsterdam.”

he brings the glass to you and holds it out.

“it was tricky to pretend that you aren’t my daughter... who also happens to have motion-sickness but still gets on a flight alone.”

you scoff, sitting up and taking the glass only because your throat was killing you. “fun to know that i need to get on a plane to get your attention.”

your father scratches a temple and waits for you to finish the glass of water.

“enough attention for me to cancel my meetings and fly here from croatia. i left the moment the airline called me to tell me my daughter passed out on the flight your mother was telling me about.”

you gulp the last bit of water and hold it to your chest. he gestures for it, and you reluctantly let him take it away from you. 

it reminds you of all the times his house staff waited on you and how bad it made you feel. but you were always happy knowing that they were comfortable working in that house. 

“so, do i get to know why i had to cancel my meetings to find you here, in a ward?” he lands the cup on the table and refers to the sofa seat next to you. 

“solo trip to get away from city life. i simply passed out from the turbulence a long-flight was putting me through.”

he’s probably not going to buy that.

“that’s not very healthy.”

you scoff, lying back down into the bed and running your hand through your hair. “of course it’s not healthy. anymore throwing up and i’ll erode my own digestive system. if only i could fault someone for my throwing up.”

silence. 

“so... whose is it?”

“what do you mean ‘whose is it’? i was born with a weak gut, so i guess it’s mine.”

silence. 

“i’m not talking about your motion-sickness, y/n. i’m talking about the 15-week foetus inside you.”

the what--

“15-week foetus? what are you--”

oh.

no.

“you didn’t know you were pregnant?”

your heart felt like it was going to explode and a wave of ache rips through your chest. 

“if it’s a 15-week-old foetus, shouldn’t you have already missed like two or three periods?”

your fingers find your temples and you shut your eyes tightly. you start to feel your eyes getting wet and your nose turns sour as you desperately try to find any strand of possibility that this wasn’t happening. 

“i was... working. i thought it was just the stress--” all of a sudden, you see nothing but juyeon’s face in your head. your eyes were sealed shut but you saw nothing but him. 

and now you were carrying his child. 

“huh,” your father calmly watches you go through a whole mental breakdown. “you’re not wearing a ring, so i assume the baby’s father isn’t my son-in-law?” 

you turn to look at him with tears impairing your vision. 

“your mother told me you were engaged over the phone. you can imagine my confusion when you turn up here, on the other side of the planet, alone, pregnant and without a ring.”

this can’t be real.

“get out.”

your father sucks in a sharp breath through his nostrils.

“you can fly back to croatia and tell mother not to poke her nose into this. i’ll deal with it on my own.”

he nods in your peripheral vision, your eyes only staring at an empty space on the ceiling. you shut your eyes and let the tears roll down the sides of your face, curving its way into the crevices of your ears. the sound of the shoes thumping softly against the carpet tells you he’s leaving and you hear the door swing open.

“call me if you need anything. i’m still your father after all.”

and with that, you hear the door shut. 

you let yourself sob quietly, the reality sinking into your bones and you swore you could hear your heart beating in your ears. your hands find your abdomen, and you question why the product of your love with him was presented to you not in the form of casual dates and a simpler romance, but a baby, in a world of money you wanted nothing to do with. 

you pull yourself together after about an hour of crying, and through swollen eyes, you find your luggage and bags behind the sofa seat your father previously sat on. fumbling around your bag, you were relieved that your phone had not been turned on the entire time since you boarded the plane. it would still be close to full battery.

your home screen becomes flooded with notifications of missed calls. from eric, sunwoo, chanhee, your mother, even your manager, and him.

you swipe away everything and let the phone adjust to the timezone and boot up, and once it was good to go, your first instinct was to call chanhee. 

“where have you been?! your flight landed like... a billion years ago!”

“chanhee--”

“you better have a damn good explanation for fucking disappearing off the face of the fucking earth when you literally told me you won’t--”

“i--”

“where are you now, huh?! strutting down some random street in amsterdam thinking about coming back like, never?!”

“chanh--”

“believe me, i WILL get on a plane and fly to amsterdam just to strangle you myself!”

“chanhee, i’m pregnant.”

the other end of the line goes silent and you wonder if he hung up or something. 

you hear him breathe into the receiver and that was your cue to finish your story.

“i passed out on the flight and now i’m in a hospital in amsterdam. my father’s in the country because the airline called him about me but i don’t know how long he’s staying,” you pause, bracing yourself to repeat that cursed word reality has decided to offer you. “i’m three months pregnant.”

silence. 

you look down at your hands that were absent-mindedly fiddling with the corners of your blanket. your hair was messy and draped over your shoulders. your eyes struggle to remain wide open after the excessive crying in the last hour. 

“... does he know?”

“no. even i didn’t.”

“what are you going to do about the baby?”

you purse your lips, pain rippling through you when you realise you had to make a decision that would change your life forever.

“i assume you’re not planning on telling him?”

it was your turn to fall silent.

you don’t want to be a shitty person for hiding this from him, but neither did you want him to have an opinion on what you should do with it. 

“i think you should know that he’s been searching high and low for you. sangyeon and jaehyun told us that he’s been to your place and the only thing he hasn’t done is call the bureau director.”

“i’ll tell him after i decide what to do with it.”

“and?”

“i’ll tell him--”

“i know what you’re thinking of doing.”

you feel your facial features strain and compress all into each other, your thumb brushing the skin on your finger where the ring should be. 

“you’re thinking of aborting it and telling him right before you get it done, aren’t you?”

he wasn’t your best friend for nothing. 

“i know it sucks... the situation you’re in. and i don’t want to be the one who guilt trips you into keeping it just because it’s his or that it’s a life. so forget about him, and think about yourself before you decide to do anything. it’s yours as much as it’s his, and i know you have the means to raise it on your own, both financially and emotionally.”

chanhee’s words crush your last attempt at holding yourself together, and you bury your face into your free hand with the phone held to your ear. 

“you’re hurting, and i know there’s nothing i can do to make you feel better besides give you what you need right now, and that’s space and emotional support,” a pause. “so call me when you’ve decided, and i promise i’ll see you soon.”

you sniffle loudly into the receiver, sure that he heard you. nodding to yourself, you thank chanhee and hang up, letting whatever fluids you had left inside you pour out through your eyes. 

THE NEXT DAY

“thank you, it was a great stay,” you smile at the hospital receptionist, handing her the black and silver card that your father left behind. it had your name on it, but this was the first time you’ve ever used it.

you promised yourself you’d return the money when you earn it back. you didn’t want them to use this as a hold to keep you by their side. 

“the bill’s already been paid by your father, miss,” she returns a bright smile and hands the card back to you.

ugh, one step late. 

“in fact, he informed us that he’s booked you a place to stay in a hotel nearby. it’s a five-star hotel so there’s everything you need there, and if you feel uncomfortable or in need of medical assistance, it’s only a five minute drive here from the hotel.”

you provide her a weak service smile as you chuck the card back into your wallet. 

the receptionist calls you a cab and sends you on your way to the castle-looking hotel. the hotel staff get your luggage and belongings up to the room while you roam around the lobby and the compound. you find yourself outside the building, now walking along the path next to the river bank. 

couples were eating and drinking the evening away, the orange beams from the sun shining down on you and elongating the shadows of the birds that fly past above you in the sun’s light. 

you find yourself in a secluded spot where the river opens up to the sea after spending nearly an hour just walking along the water line. 

the only source of light around were the street lamps, and the water extends so far out, you couldn’t even see the horizon. you hear someone walk past every now and then and they kindly greet you. the friendly culture here was making you feel so comfortable, you couldn’t help but laugh at chanhee’s worry about you staying here forever. 

you pull out your phone and dial for the abortion provider of the hospital you stayed at, and for a second you worry about the medical bills. 

but it was quickly washed away once the abortion provider picks up, and you start inquiring about abortion protocols. your eyes travel out to sea as the person on the other end of the line feeds you the information that you were going to need to look over again once you’ve returned to the hotel.

your mind flashes back to the night juyeon proposed to you after you told him about your family. and you truly wonder...

life has a way of putting you in places you were meant to be.

Part 11 (final): Gravity

[scary-lasagna]

Trust || Part IV

"Tim was always defensive and stubborn, but you could tell there was so much more precious information than he was letting on. It was information that you needed, something that could possibly save your life. And he was being quiet about it. Why? "

Yandere!Hoodie/Brian x Reader

* * * You woke up with another person in your bed the next morning, unfortunately having to share with Tim. Jay moves too much in his sleep, and it was aggravating for the both of you.

But now the smell of tobacco and nicotine was making you sick. The best option was a simple breath of fresh air. You could only hope that you weren't met with a camera like last time, or worse, a red rope and a newly bought knife.

You kept the door open to the building, breathing in the fresh morning air. You even closed your eyes for a few peaceful moments.

Upstairs, though, Tim noticed your absence as soon as your foot touched the wood of the floor. But after getting up to see what you were up to, he paused at the open computer.

It was the only source of light in the room, so it was hard to ignore when it was half-lit due to a notification blocking the white screen.

Clicking on it, Tim saw it was from that ToTheArk account. It was black and white, a style most of the videos held, with static lining the edges.

It was a person, standing in the window, with [Y/N]'s red jacket. 

"Ṭ̷̓h̵̟͋ȇ̶̘y̷̒ͅ ̸̦̑a̵̖͝r̵̥̔e̶̢̍ ̶͓̈́n̴̩̍o̷̲͝t̴̝̀ ̸̤̆t̷͕̏ö̸̭́ ̴̨̿b̸̥̋ê̶̪ ̶̰̿t̶̰̃r̶̨̓ṷ̴͌s̴̩̔t̵͓̀e̴̯͆d̶͇̚.̵͈͆"

Not to be trusted? Yeah, thanks, Tim knew that already. That's why he was out of the warm bed in the first place. He ignored the video, for now, deciding on watching it later after he herds you back inside. 

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, feeling the cardboard of his smoke in the left, and the smooth texture of the picture in his right. He should give it back, Tim didn't mean to take it, but he panicked when he got caught.

Heavy footsteps thumped against the dull and dirty fabric of the carpet. 

However, they were not Tim's.

__

A flash of red was the most warning that you got before being dragged to the ground. The rope lassoed past your vision and secured around your neck. A pair of leather hands grasped your frantic arms and pulled the rope around them behind your back. 

And the cool metal of a blade pressed against your neck, "Walk." When you didn't move, the captor simply encouraged you with a harsh push on your spine. You recognized the car as Brian’s. It was one that you always ate McDonald's in after coming home from a class.

You were pushed through the car door, buckled up, and driven off. In the side mirror, you saw Tim, supposedly yelling as he stomped on the dirt and pulled at his brown locks in desperation. Jay joined him with the usual camera he carries, and you caught a glint of it from the lense that caused you to see spots for a short moment.

"Where are you ta-"

"Don't talk," Brian said, glancing side to side before making a turn. You didn't need to ask. You knew he was taking you to Rosswood. Oh god, he was going to kill you. Your own boyfriend. 

The one who you've spent so many long nights with. The one who's slept in your arms while you run your digits through his hair after he had a nightmare. The same heartbeat that calmed your insomnia on most nights would now be the one to cease yours.

Not many people were at the park, the clouds in the sky predicted rain for the day.

The ropes burned your skin, even when you weren't trying to free yourself. "Can I at least say goodbye to my friends and family?"

"No." He picked you up and aided you over a log before setting you back down to walk.

You tried to start a conversation again, to hopefully get an insight of what he'll do so you can start planning ahead, "Where are we going?"

"Shhhhshsh." The man hushed you, turning gently towards you. "Just trust me, sweetheart. Have I hurt you yet?

"Yes. I can recall a few times, actually."

His lips pursed, "Then that'll teach you something." He grabbed your elbow, quickening your pace through the woods in hope to beat the rain. It was hard to keep your balance with your hands tied behind your back.

You passed the cement building you met in before, and waited by a cellar door that the hooded man was attempting to open.

You thought about the words he said the last time you met.

"I'll make your life a living hell if you don't learn to love me."

Maybe if you started pretending now, he'd take it easy on you. Hopefully. "How about Hoodie?" You pondered aloud, causing the dirty blonde to freeze with the crowbar.

"Hoodie?" It was like he was testing the name, wondering how good it would sound once you first say 'I love you' to him. "Yeah, I like it." He spared a soft smile, one that wasn't Brian's. 

The cellar door popped before banging open with Hoodie's help. He held out his hand, flexing his fingers as he stared into the cellar. You could run. You could escape now. So why were you obeying him and allowing him to help you into his dark and creepy basement?

Maybe it's because you thought Brian was still in there, that he'll find a way to take control and help you. You wanted Brian, you wanted to cuddle on the couch with a shitty movie that neither of you liked. You wanted to feel the tender kisses along your neck, and his large hands sculpting around your curves. 

But you couldn't. Brian isn't here now.

Another fucking damp room. If you left rice in here for a few days, it'd be tender.

"It's not the best but it's the safest place."

"Safe from what? Alex?"

"Literally anyone." The scraping of the heavy bar sealed your only exit besides a window next to it. "C'mere." He mumbled, approaching you and fumbling with the rope. 

On the way through the rough terrain, your jacket struggled feebly to stay on. Hoodie ran his gloved hand gently over the bruises and you couldn't help but flinch away from the sharp pain his touch caused.

"I'm sorry, I don't know my strength sometimes." He whispered, stepping into your line of sight. He was still covering his eyes with the mask, and yet his mouth was free to feel the damp air of the cellar.

You reached up, slowly and placed your hand on his cheek. How could you not feel something for this man? It's the same one you've been dating for almost a year. But he feels alien. 

The tips of your fingers inched under his mask and took advantage of Hoodie leaning into your touch. His gloved hand made his way over yours but didn't attempt to stop your advancements.

"I've watched dormant all of these years." Your captor spoke up in a gravelly voice. "I knew you had to love me. But patience was the key."

You could now see the three freckles that flecked under his left eye, along with the baby hairs around his ear.

"I had to find a way to keep you to myself, without Brian." Your eyes twitched at the name but kept on your journey of taking the mask off. No sudden movements.

"I can tell you still think he's here." His large hand gripped around your fingers. You gulped as he pried your hand away from his skin. "He's not here [Y/N]. I'm in control now, don't you see? Can't you trust me to take care of you better than him? To love me?"

"Br- Hoodie, I don-" "He was always letting you go out with people, your family," His tone sounded disgusted, and his grip only tightened. You were starting to grow worried that he might crush a digit. "And he was always letting everyone touch you. He wasn't worried about losing you." The blonde tilted his head up to look at you, and for the first time, you could see the shape of his eyes through the fabric. 

You didn't say anything, you couldn't. Because if you did, you would scream. Scream for mercy, scream for help, scream to just scream. It was hopeless because now you're going to be trapped down here, if what Hoodie says is true. Your eyes must have revealed your thoughts, because his grip loosened, but guided your hand back onto the mask.

You shed the fabric, and what you saw was not Brian. You dropped the stiff cloth that was stained with both blood and sweat. Hoodie's eyes were sunken in, and rimmed with dark circles like never before. Sure, Brian had trouble sleeping, but not like this. But it was the color of his eyes that unnerved you. What used to be a comforting chocolate brown was now replaced with an eccentric auburn.

He sported new scars as well, and his hair was a tad too long for your liking. You wrapped your arms around his neck, you wanted to smell him. To find a trace of your lost boyfriend. It was there, but faint. The smell of the basement overcome the smell of Maplewood and smoke that you knew so well. You used to love sitting in front of that woodfire stove at his place, just to smell the sweetness of the air.

Hoodie didn't allow you to pull away but rather kept you close as he buried his face in your hair. You looked behind him at the dark basement. All of the carpets were torn up and the bricks were painted back. A few paintings and pictures hung here and there, but nothing fancy.

Except for a picture of you sleeping that hung over the TV. That one stood out. 

"Hoodie, if we're to live together we need to sort some things out." You needed to start playing into the illusion more. Flip the cards and give the captor a little bit of hope.

"I-I know that." He nodded, parting the embrace, but not too far. "I've written some down for you." The bastard almost sounded hopeful.

"Not just for me, babes." You craned your neck to look up into his auburn eyes. 

He shook his head with a chuckle, "No, I'm the one in control. I don't get rules." 

"Then I suppose I won't provide you with my end of the deal." You shrugged, unsticking yourself from his grasp. You didn't even get three steps away.

"Deal?!" You whipped around with frightened eyes. You keep forgetting you can't tease as you did with Brian. "This isn't a fucking deal, buttercup. You're here because I'm protecting you.  And you will love me, you'll cherish me, and you'll be grateful that you get it this lucky. Because I could’ve done a lot worse in getting you here."

Your chest tightened and your arms flex with your increasing heart rate, "I hate you. I want Brian." You kept your voice level. You haven't spilled any tears yet and you weren't planning to.

"I'm not Br-"

"I. Want. Brian!"

The hooded man stared at you, and if you blinked you would have missed him launching off of his right foot to fight you to the ground. Kicking, screaming, and even biting were futile. You were stuck against his warm body, and his arms locked themselves around you as you thrashed.

He stayed like that, hugging you to his chest for a good five minutes. Your limbs were exhausted while trying to put up a fight against your captor.

You finally went limp after realizing your fate. The bobbing of Hoodie's chest made you feel the primal pang of guilt and pity you got whenever you felt Brian holding back sobs in his nightmares after an argument.

And the waterworks started for you as well. You had no fucking clue why he was crying, but you knew why you were.

You'd never see your family again. Your mom would wonder why you left without a call, and your father would miss the weird way you scrunched up your nose while you were in deep thought like he always does. Tim...He'd probably miss bickering with you on the daily, and Jay would have no one to tell him to get some rest after editing for 10 hours straight.

Your hands were numb by now, and you were exhausted from the fight you put on. Hoodie seemed to be done crying as well, because he was carrying you into the depths of the cellar, with tear stains along his thin cheeks.

"This is your room." He mumbled, setting you down on the soft mattress. Each time you blinked it felt like someone poured soap into your eyes. After a few involuntary sniffles, Hoodie leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to your swollen eyelids. 

"You'll feel better after you rest."

[a-blue-secret]

CHAPTER III

BACK TO MASTERLIST

Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV

GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun

PAIRING: taegyu

WARNINGS: none

WORD COUNT: 2.5k+

AN: Nothing that happens here will have a major impact in the long term, but it's important in helping you to get to know Beomgyu a little better.

SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?

Now. This story has been told from Taehyun's perspective for two whole chapters and a prologue, so let's switch it up a little shall we?

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Beomgyu glared daggers at his vizier's black coat tails as they whipped out of sight. He shook his head, sighing. Kang Taehyun was annoying, there was no doubt about that. But Beomgyu had to admit that he had a right to act like that. He knew he was being an absolute pain for the younger. But could he help it? No. Taehyun promised him he wouldn't have to come back to court, and yet here he was, ruling the very same court he vowed to never set foot in ever again. He should have known something was up when Taehyun wanted his service for a year and a day. He should have known. Well, Beomgyu presumed he wasn't thinking straight, because his ex-best friend had turned up at his door after three years of no communication. His common sense was bound to be clouded just a little by the sudden appearance of Taehyun.

Beomgyu glowered, shaking off any more thoughts of the younger. Taehyun had said going out to town was risky. Well Beomgyu was determined to prove him wrong.

"Seojung! You and the other guy- prepare me a carriage. I wanna go into town."

Seojung nodded, before hurrying off to find another footman. Beomgyu watched him go, before setting off back to his chambers. Just in case things did get a little violent, Beomgyu wanted to change into something more practical. He was quite fond of this ivory ruffled shirt, and didn't want it to become ruined.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Beomgyu stared intently out of the carriage door as they rode through the streets. Now he properly thought about it, he hadn't truly been out of the castle in months.

Beomgyu peered at the fields they passed, noticing the diligent farmers working the land. As he poked his head out of the carriage to try and touch the branch of a tree as they passed it by, the carriage went over a pothole in the road, and he was suddenly knocked about, hitting his head on the top of the window frame. He let out a pained grunt, rubbing his head and retreating back into the safety of the carriage, grumbling about annoying coachmen. Though, it was actually his fault since he'd asked them to take the most secluded route, but that was just a small irrelevant detail that didn't need to be discussed.

When he deemed a road quiet enough to step out, he called to the coachman.

“Okay, stop here."

The carriage slowed, and one of the guards stepped off his horse to open the door for him. Beomgyu was slightly annoyed at the entourage of guards that were obligated to follow the carriage. He'd wanted this to be a low-key trip, but as the King, it seemed that he had to have several people follow him at all times.

Beomgyu stepped down into the streets, blinking slightly at the sun. They'd stopped in a quiet alleyway, where there were little people. He looked around him, took a few seconds to get his bearings, before setting off into the streets. Glancing behind him, he gave a slight huff of annoyance when he saw two guards trailing about three metres behind him.

Beomgyu, after Taehyun's words, had been prepared to be mobbed and crowded round as soon as he stepped into the public areas. However, much to his surprise, something else happened. Most people ignored Beomgyu. While it did feel rather strange to not be stared at, this oddly gave him comfort, as it made him feel like he’d returned to his old life again, instead of the extravagant palace life he now led. He looked around, and noticed why he was being ignored. There were lords even more extravagantly dressed than he was. Beomgyu scoffed a little as he saw a lord strut by, covered in shining golden fabric which caught the light as he walked. Beomgyu could immediately tell the fabric was nothing expensive, and smiled to himself.

He wandered around the streets, spotting the odd market stall every few houses or so. He stopped at one, and the lady managing the stall did a double take, before clumsily standing up to bow several times.

“Your Highness!” she stammered. “I- is there anything I can do for you?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Beomgyu said, smiling, gesturing for her to sit down. “But maybe, uh,” -he placed a finger on his lips- “about the Highness stuff? I’m not really meant to be out of the palace right now.”

“Of course,” the lady stuttered. He smiled at her, looking at the rice cakes a little wistfully. The castle had excellent chefs, but nothing beat the taste of homemade tteok. The woman saw him looking, and offered the rice cakes to him. “Would you like some?”

Now, it was Beomgyu’s turn to stammer in surprise. “I- I… would- would that be okay?”

She smiled, picking up one in a napkin. “If you would like, Your Greatness. I have not sold any all day, so they may be a little hard though.”

Beomgyu hesitated, before giving in and accepting the napkin. “Thank you,” he beamed. She bowed.

“It was my pleasure.” When he tried to offer her money, she shook her head. “Oh, I don’t need payment. It is payment enough for you to have come here.”

Beomgyu paused, but seeing the woman was firm, he sighed, putting away his money. “If you insist.” He looked around. “And if anyone asks, no I did not buy tteok from your stall. It’s a secret, okay?” He tapped the side of his nose and winked slightly, before calmly walking away.

He took a bite out of the tteok, and almost melted with happiness. It was a little hard, but it just made it taste even more real. Everything at the palace was too perfect. It all tasted as if it were manufactured to perfection. Beomgyu didn't know how Taehyun coped with it. He finished off the rice cake and dusted off his hands. One guard wordlessly stepped up to Beomgyu to take the napkin from him. Oh. He'd forgotten they were there. Beomgyu mentally shrugged. Oh well. They weren't that intrusive, now he thought about it. Perhaps they were okay.

He waited for the guards to catch up. When they didn’t, Beomgyu looked over his shoulder to find they were still in the same position, a few metres behind him. When he motioned for them to hurry up, they just stared stoically back at him. So this is how it is, huh? he thought, reluctantly turning around. Well.

He walked around the streets, receiving many shocked gasps from citizens who recognised him. For the most part, however, he was ignored, and it was completely fine by him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

"Ooh." Beomgyu stopped at a stall, spotting a cool ruby brooch.

"Ah, you are interested sir?" the man spoke with a thick European accent. He must be a trader, coming over from other lands. "It is very precious, very precious. Lots of money."

Beomgyu picked up the brooch, running his fingers over the indentations and small ridges in the stone. It was beautiful, there was no doubt about it. "How much?" he asked the man.

"Uh…" The trader pointed to Beomgyu. "What money you have?"

"Huh?"

"You. Money. What money?"

"Oh, how much do I have?" When the man nodded, Beomgyu patted his pockets. "More than this is worth, I think."

The man took the brooch from Beomgyu, bringing it up to the light to squint at it. "This brooch, worth lots sir," he said. "Maybe…" He put the brooch down, and counted on his fingers. He frowned, thinking, before showing Beomgyu ten fingers. "Maybe more?"

Beomgyu smiled slightly. He was slightly confused as to what the trader meant, and tried to slowly back away. "It's very nice," he said, "but no thanks."

"Are you sure? Very pretty sir, it is very pretty."

Beomgyu shook his head politely before walking away. The man shrugged, and set the brooch down on his table, adjusting it until it was in just the right position.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

"What should I do?" Beomgyu wondered aloud, kicking up the sandy road as he walked. He looked behind him at the guards. "Wait, I just realised I don't know your name," he said to the other guy. He walked up to them, glad that they stayed still and didn't decide to step backwards. "You're Seojung, but I don't know who you are. What's your name?"

"Jisung, Your Greatness."

Beomgyu nodded. "That's cool. My mum was going to name me Jisung, you know. But,” he said, spinning around, looking around at the trees, “I suppose I quite like my name. Choi Jisung doesn’t sound as princely, does it?”

The two guards didn’t say anything, but Beomgyu, tired of being silent for so long, carried on talking.

“I can’t really talk so freely in court. Well, I still can’t talk freely out here, but in the palace all I do is just bicker with Taehyun.” He walked up to the tree, pulling down a branch slightly to smell the blossom. “It’s sad, really. We used to be best friends, but now we’re just like enemies. I really want us to be friends again, but…” Beomgyu sighed. “He’s betrayed me too much for me to think we can be close again.” 

Beomgyu looked back at Seojung and Jisung. “Wait. I shouldn’t have told you that.” Beomgyu cursed in his head. They might be stoic and silent now, but he knew that they’d have no trouble gossiping about all they’d heard to the other guards. He thought for a moment. “Okay, there’s nothing else I can do. You guys are now promoted to my personal guards. From today onwards, you have no more contact with the lesser guards, and must discuss things with my other personal guards. I think I have two more? Yep. Bang Chan and Jung Inhyuk. And, since you’re now one of my personal guards, you have to talk to me.”

The two men looked at each other, before looking back at the King. No one had been promoted on such weird terms before. They both bowed. “Thank you, Your Greatness.”

“So! Where should we go?” Beomgyu mused aloud. “Do you know where we are? Come on, you’re allowed to speak. It’s fine.”

“I believe we are near the Hak-gil market, sire.”

“Hm… from here, I think I’ll actually be able to find the way to my house. Come on, let’s go.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

“Ta da! Welcome to my humble cottage,” Beomgyu proudly announced to the guards who still stood a little ways away from him. His arms, which had been thrown wide, dropped to his sides. “Oh, come here will you?” None of them moved. Beomgyu sniffed. “Fine. But you’re still coming inside whether you like it or not.” He pushed open the gate, walking along the familiar path towards his front door, before smiling nostalgically at the mat.

Suddenly, he shook his head. Why was he getting sentimental over a mat? It hadn’t even been three months, for crying out loud. He sighed a little playfully to himself, before turning around to see the guards still standing on the other side of the gate. “Seriously?” he called to them. “This is literally like a game of ‘Red Light, Green Light’. Are you going to stay still? Or will I have to send you back to the beginning?” When his little joke received no response from the two men, he frowned. “Okay look, does anyone have the key to my home? I wanna go inside.” Neither of them moved. Beomgyu was growing a little frustrated by their lack of response.

“You know what? I command you to answer me,” Beomgyu said. “Do any of you have the key to my cottage?”

Finally, (finally!) Seojung shook his head. “No, sire.”

Beomgyu sighed sadly. He walked around to the side of the house, peering in through the window. He could see into his living room from here, and could make out the small table and his bookshelf packed tight full of books. When he squinted, he could make out the china tea cup resting on the table. On the day of the Crown Handing, he'd left the house in a rather messy state, because he thought he'd be able to come back to the house soon enough.

The plan had been simple. Go to the Crown Handing, crown Kang Junghoon, leave court to never come back. Only, he thought, things hadn't turned out to be that simple, had they? He smiled a little bitterly, staring intently at the teacup. And then, after he'd been (unwillingly) crowned, he'd been too busy alternatively sulking and preparing for his coronation. By the time he was King, asking to go back home to tidy it up seemed foolish.

Beomgyu straightened, before strolling around to the front door again. He walked up to it's duck egg blue front, spotting where the paint was forlornly beginning to peel off. Leaning down, he pressed his eye against the keyhole, like a child would do. There was nothing much in the front of his house, but it was a fun thing to do. He took his eye away from the keyhole and looked wistfully at the front door, before stepping away and walking back down the path. “Okay. Looks like we’re going back home.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Back at the palace, Beomgyu was walking to his chambers when he spotted Yeonjun. The Lord caught sight of the King, and came up to him and bowed.

"Your Greatness. Do you happen to know where the Grand Vizier Taehyun is?"

"A King, ignored in his own palace in favour of his advisor?" Beomgyu joked. "As of Kang Taehyun's whereabouts, I'm afraid I have no idea where he is. May I ask, why are you looking for him?"

"Oh, just to confirm a few details of the contract," Yeonjun explained. He bowed again. "Good day to you, Your Greatness." He was about to leave, when Beomgyu stopped him.

"Wait. Since one of the rules is for you to get us to trust you, do you want to start with that?"

Yeonjun hesitated. "Um, I suppose it depends what you have in mind?"

"Some archery, friendly fencing match, maybe a horse riding session? You look to me as if you are very athletic." Beomgyu raised his eyebrows, patiently waiting for Yeonjun's answer.

"Wouldn't your vizier disapprove of you not keeping to your schedule?"

"Pfft. My main goal in life is to annoy Taehyun so this works exactly in my favour. No but seriously, it's okay. I have no schedules today so I'm free to do whatever."

"In that case, I will gladly accept your offer, Your Greatness."

Beomgyu and Yeonjun began to walk off in the direction of the sports courtyard.

"Oh yeah, we're gonna have to do something about that if we want to get to know each other better. When there are no servants, you're going to have to just call me Beomgyu, and I'll just call you Yeonjun."

[sprnklersplashes]

heart of stone (20/?)

AO3

Janis shifts a little on the armchair, giving Maddie more room in her lap and giving herself more space to breathe. They’re sharing one chair in the lounge, Maddie pressed against her chest and her arms around her waist, their eyes on the TV in front of them. Janis had almost forgotten about early afternoon cartoons, or had at the very least believed they were a part of her life she’d never revisit, but she walked in on some of the other kids watching them in and she’s happy to say they have the same effect on her eighteen year old self as they did her ten year old self. Even if she does constantly need them explained to her but hey, she’s old now. She has the sleep schedule to prove it.

“I wish they’d let us watch Netflix in here,” Maddie sighs. “They say we’re not allowed it because too many people would be taking advantage of it, and that since it’s a private company we can’t watch it on a public TV.” She leans her head against Janis’s shoulder. “And because they think we’ll watch age inappropriate stuff on it.”

“That’s a valid concern,” Janis tells her. “Because I just know you watched Insidious last week and then lied to your mother about it.” She squeezes Maddie around the waist, eliciting giggles from the younger girl. “Don’t even try to deny it. Besides, cartoons are more fun than horror movies.”

Maddie hums and doesn’t deny it nor does she disagree, her feet swinging innocently on the side of the chair. Janis rests her cheek against her head, the beanies and scarf gone today. It isn’t-or rather it shouldn’t be-something unusual. While it isn’t exactly common, she’s seen a few people around the ward hatless. Not like they have anywhere to go. Janis is just still getting used to this part, and wearing a hat every day is one hurdle. She supposes she’ll jump that one when-and if-she comes to it.

She heads back to her room a little later-the good cartoons are over and most people, including her, have rounds scheduled pretty soon. She wants back arm-in-arm with Maddie, a gesture she hasn’t taken since her middle school days. There’s a lot she loves about her new friendship with Maddie-it’s probably as close to having a younger sister as she is ever going to get-and one of the best parts of it is how she can fully indulge the inner 13 year old that still lives inside her. She hadn’t realised how fun letting that part of her out would be.

She throws herself down on the bed with some amount of grace when she gets in, twisting roughly onto her back and reaching for her phone with one hand while blindly getting a rice cake out of the packet with the other. She waits while the various social media apps alert her to new notifications-a celebrity posted on Instagram, someone liked her tweet, she’s gotten another anonymous message on Tumblr… the usual stuff, basically. She scrolls through idly, just about to all down the rabbit hole until-

“Janis!”    

“Never mind,” she sighs. When she switches off her phone, her mom is at the foot of her bed, her door still slightly open and her eyes glittering. Janis would simply offer a raised eyebrow and a dry remark, were it not for the two at her mom’s side, a man and a woman a few years younger than her mom, both dressed in white polo shirts and jeans. They give off slight camp counsellor vibes in those outfits. The man carries a cardboard box under his arm, stamped with black crowns, and they have the same soft yet ecstatic grin that the Cancer Centre people do.

“Uh… Hi?” she says, sitting up. She half-raises her arm into a wave. “I’m Janis?”

“Is this a bad time?” The girl asks in a low voice, and it’s not clear whether she’s talking to her or her mom. Any feelings of fatigue or lazy desires are chased away in an instant, and Janis sits up taller and raises her chin, her own smile plastered across her face. Just a hint of spite, enough to get her message across.

“Not at all,” she says, and she slides her phone into her pocket. “What’s up?”

“Oh well, we’re from the Rapunzel Foundation,” the man explains. Janis blinks for a second, and then

“The wig people,” she says.

“For convenience’s sake, you could say that” he replies and Janis’ eyes immediately fall to the box in his hand. It’s not overly big, but then it really wouldn’t need to be.

“Oh,” is all she can say. She swings her legs around the side of the bed and stands up, her hands shoved in her pockets. “Um… so I take it you… have it?” She shakes her head, huffing a laugh in the otherwise awkward pause. “Sorry, this is coming off like we’re in a drug trade.”  

“It’s fine, Janis,” he says. “But yes, we have your wig all ready for you. Well, wigs. We actually have a few you can look at.”

“Cool,” she mutters. He lifts the box, tilting it towards her, and it takes a second for her to nod. She slides back against the wall and wraps her arms around herself, taking a millisecond to check out her mom’s expression. She’s grinning like a mad woman; she thinks the last time she saw her mom that excited was at her last art show. She can’t blame her, she guesses, because it’s a big thing, isn’t it? After weeks of beanies, this is at least something new.

“Now we couldn’t get one that looked exactly like your hair before,” the girl explains. “You had a bit of a unique hairstyle.”

“Inimitable, that was the idea,” she says.

“And we aren’t allowed to dye these wigs for safety reasons,” she goes on. “But… we did make up a few others. Here, take a look.” Janis looks down and finds three wigs laid out on her bed. Her first thought is that they’re scarily realistic. They would be after all; they’re all made of real human hair. That’s why Regina now has a bob despite swearing to her once she’d never do that.

Then comes the terrifying thought-holy crap what if one of these is made from Regina’s hair?

Being bald might be better than wearing Regina’s hair. Scratch that, definitely would be.

She shakes her head. These wigs are darker than Regina’s hair; each one deep black to her brown, and she breathes. Her natural colour. One is long, curling slightly at the bottom. Kind of a Morticia Addams style, she thinks, and the corner of her mouth quirks up. The second is similar, albeit shorter and with side bangs, and then finally one that would reach to her shoulders, or just above, more waves than the first one. She remembers way, way back in middle school, before Regina talked her into another stupid decision. When her hair was dark black and held by sparkly silver hair pins.

“Can I try that one?” she asks, pointing at the third one.

She pulls up one of the visitors’ chairs, two pillows stuffed beneath her to reach the mirror, while the man-Anthony, she corrects-holds the wig behind her and brushes it out. It falls softly against his hand and her own itches to run her fingers through it. But her heart is in her mouth at the same time, and she has no idea why. She thought, when they first told her about getting the wig, that she’d be jumping at the chance. That she wouldn’t have the small but still present urge to tell them to pack it up and go.

“You ready?” Antony asks.

She closes her eyes and nods.

It’s heavier than she thought it would be. Antony’s fingers run along her face as he settles it and she fights the urge to flinch. She’s not good with this sort of contact at the best of times. He plays around with it a bit more, fluffing it and swishing it and who knows what else, as her fingers fidget on the arms of the chair.

“You can open your eyes now.”

When she does, the gasp escapes her mouth before she can stop herself. In the refection, she watches as she reaches up and fidgets with the stands that stop, as she thought, just above her shoulders. She looks at it for a long time, trying to work out how it looks. If it looks real or not.

“I look-”

She doesn’t want to say normal. It’s the closest word she can find to it and yet doesn’t want to say it. Luckily, her mom is there.

“You look like Veronica.”

“Oh no I don’t,” she sighs. “I do not look like Veronica.”  

“Sorry, who’s Veronica?” the girl asks.

“My younger sister,” her mom explains. “Janis’ aunt.”

“Who everyone swears up and down I look exactly like,” she adds. “And I do not.” Janis leans back in the chair and twirls the end strand round her finger. “I look good though.”  

“So does that mean you’ll take this one?” the girl asks. “You can still try on the others if you want.”

“It’s fine,” Janis replies. She nods, a little to them, a little to her mom and a little to herself. “This is it. This is the one.”

She doesn’t really leave her room for the next few hours. Or the chair either, for that matter. The only serious move she makes is when she realises her nurse is coming in five minutes and that sitting staring intensely at a mirror is probably not a good way to greet her. She feels strangely self-conscious when the walks in, like the elephant in the room is doing cartwheels on top of her head. She taps her feet on the floor, waiting for the acknowledgement that never comes. She wonders if nurses often do comment on people’s wigs, or if that’s strictly a no-go area.

“Mom?” she eventually asks, a barely-eaten sandwich sitting in her lap and her IV neatly tucked in the corner. “Is this weird?”

“Is what weird?”

“This. Me sitting in front of the mirror all day.” She shrugs and takes a bite out of her sandwich. “I mean… you have to find it weird. I find it weird and I’m the one doing it.”

“Not at all,” she says, and then she breaks out into a grin. “You do look good, Janis. It’s a great wig.”

“Yeah.”    

“And… it’s a bit of a change, isn’t it?” her mom adds. “I suppose it takes some getting used to.”

Janis nods again. To say it’s a bit of a change is an understatement. This morning, it was patently obvious what was wrong with her. Now, while she’s still stick-thin and alarmingly pale and sitting in her pyjamas, she looks healthier. That’s the word she’ll replace normal with, she tells herself. She doesn’t look sick, or at least not really. Not that sick.

Should she be this happy about it? Surely it’s a good thing, right?

“Mom I need you to promise me something,” she says.

“Anything.” There’s a serious tone to her mom’s voice that she shouldn’t find funny but does.

“If I am still sitting here an hour later, smash my head into this mirror,” she jokes. She takes another bite of her sandwich and brushes crumbs out of her wig. She hasn’t done that in weeks, she realises, and while it’s a stupid, tiny thing it, it excites her. The thrill sparks deep inside her chest and makes a laugh bubble out of her mouth. “Or maybe give me an hour and a half,” she adds.

                                                                                               *****

She FaceTimes Cady later that night and there’s no lying about her intention. It’s the same logic as Cady sending her a selfie of the cute shirt she just bought. There’s no harm in showing off.  Especially after she already spent most of today showing it off to her hospital friends. Melissa was polite enough about it, calling it pretty and commenting on how it doesn’t look like her hair from beforehand. But her words are short and carefully chosen, and Janis has to stop herself from staring at Melissa’s hair the whole time. Her real hair that hasn’t fallen out yet. She’s not jealous of her, it’s stupid to be jealous in circumstances like this, but she can’t help but feel awkward about it. Still, Melissa grins at her when she puts it on and pokes her in the stomach, telling her she looks “hot” and even comparing her to Winona Ryder’s 1980s years.

“Now that’s a compliment,” Janis had told her.

Maddie on the other hand is much more animated, stroking it with a careful hand and wide eyes which dart to the hairbrush on the bed three times before Janis takes the hint and hands it to her. She’s a little unsure about it really, but it’s sitting on a stand on the end of the bed and what harm can one little girl do to it? Especially when the one little girl is Maddie.

She checks herself in the camera once more, telling herself it’s the last time. She pulls it down just a little bit only to shift it back again. It sits comfortably on her head, the dark strands falling into her view when she bends down and the bangs ruffling when she blows up. She spent more time than she cares to admit sitting on her bed blowing them earlier today.

“You really need a hobby,” she tells herself, out loud, before she hits the call button. As she waits, she taps her fingers on the mattress and finds herself suddenly aware of the sketchbooks she slid under her bed. She told herself she needs a hobby, but doesn’t she kind of already have one? Or rather, she had one. When was the last time she picked one of her books up? A cold feeling settles in her stomach. Sometimes her life here can get pretty busy, but she was also kept busy outside of here and she always made time to draw.

“Janis!” Cady replies, pulling her out of her thoughts. The audio cracks and crickles as they move through their house, the picture freezing and jumping. “Hey, what’s up, sorry I was downstairs.”

“No, it’s fine,” Janis replies. “Not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Oh, no, of course not,” they say. “Not I was just doing homework at the table. I just got in from tutoring a half an hour ago and I couldn’t be bothered walking all the way upstairs.” The wall behind them turns from dirty white to baby blue, and Cady’s bedroom door with a hundred jackets hanging on it closes behind them. “Okay, so what’s-woah.” Their eyes go wide, and Janis chuckles. “That’s new.”

“Yeah, it is,” Janis replies, pushing her hair away from her face. “I hope you’re talking about the wig and nothing else. Although it would be remiss of you not to notice the new lights around my bed.”

“I’ve noticed the lights. I suggested the lights,” Cady says. They flops down onto their bed, one knee tucked up against them and their chin resting on it. Their smile slowly stretches across their face. “You look good, it looks good. When did it happen?”

“Only today,” she says. “Which is weird because I was told about it a while back. You know it was made from real human hair.”

“Cool,” they breathe. “So is that… is that what your hair was like before you dyed it and shaved it and… did all that to it?”

“All that,” she replies. “You sound like my Catholic grandma.” She ruffles her wig and lets the hair land on her face. “But yeah. If we had met in middle school… pre-Regina, obviously… I would have looked like this.”

“Wow,” they whisper. “Imagine we had. You and me meeting in middle school. You’d have hated me.”

“You’d have hated me,” she replies. “I was Plastic, remember? Or at least, I was baby plastic. And I had some really embarrassing obsessions at that time. Had we been really good friends, I’d have forced you to come to Hot Topic with me.”

“Well thank goodness you’ve outgrown that,” Cady says dryly. They laugh, but then Janis imagines it, a much-younger her with a much-younger Cady, both more innocent in some ways, less interested in high school cliques. It might be pointless fantasizing about it, but it’s fun all the same. “It looks gorgeous Janis. Really. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.” Her cheeks turn pink and warm as she rests her face on her fist. “So how was school?”

“Oh, fine,” they reply. “I’ve… dropped some of my tutoring subjects. Today was my last day with little Ruby.”

“Oh no,” Janis says. “Um… why was that?”

“Well, if you want a visual.” The camera tilts and dips as she gets up, and for a second freezes on her halfway extended past it, before it jumps and she’s holding a piece of paper in front of it, practically covered in black pen and coloured marker. It hurts Janis’ head just to look at. “This is my schedule pre-cancellations.” They switch pages, now showing her a much cleaner page, more plain white blocks. When she looks closer and the camera focuses, she sees ‘free time’ written on them in lilac. “This is my schedule now.”

“Ah, I see,” Janis says. “You pencilled in some free time.”

“I was drowning,” they sigh dramatically, throwing their head back, tossing their hair and waving their arm for the full effect. “Now I’m just floating. Instead of being significantly more stressed than the average senior, I’m just normal stressed.”

“Aw good for you my little stressed fish,” Janis jokes, leaning forwards on her elbow and cupping her chin. “So? Stress huh?”

“So much stress,” they reply. “I just… no I’m coping.” They shake their head and Janis bets there’s a hundred, if not a thousand, invisible formulae and equations dancing in front of Cady’s eyes. “Once I get to winter break, then I’ll be good to go. And then I can direct much more of my attention to you babe.”

“Good, because I’m feeling real attention deprived over here,” she replies, only for the smile on Cady’s face to drop slightly. “Okay, no I’m not. Although having said that, my mom is starting to ease up on me and it’s a little weird. She hasn’t checked in on me in twenty minutes. I think she may be dead.”

“That sounds like a record,” Cady replies. “Oh! Speaking of records, guess what?”

“Um… you just broke the record for whoever can make their girlfriend jump the highest?”

“No,” they reply. “So the Mathletes and I have our first tournament coming up! We qualified for state championships and our first contest is on December 14th. It’s against the Saint Paul’s team.”

“Ah. The private school,” Janis replies, wrinkling her nose. While the main rivalry has and always will be between North Shore and Merrymount, there’s always been a lingering disdain for the private schools they compete against. “Make sure you kick them right in their plaid skirt covered asses. Also how did you get that from records?”

“Well, breaking records is like a contest, right?” they reason. “And I plan on setting the ‘record’ for the Mathlete captain with the most wins under their belt.” They grin then, and there’s a wicked gleam in their eye that while Janis loves, she finds it just a little bit unsettling. “Starting with those spoiled little rich kids.”    

“Oh this competitive streak of yours is so hot,” she whispers, winding a lock of hair around her fingers. It’s almost silky smooth against her skin and out of nowhere she wonders; had her hair beforehand ever felt like this? Her eyes widen as she realises she can’t remember. It hasn’t been that long in the scheme of things since she lost her hair, she just never paid attention. Why would she? Not like she could have seen this coming. If she had, would she have taken more notice? Would she have stopped taking it for granted? Stopped overthinking the way she looks? She supposes she can put those questions to bed now that she has this.

“Uh… Janis? Earth to Janis!”

“Woah, yeah, hi,” she says. She straightens herself up, her back squarely against the bed board, and shakes her head. “Sorry, um, went down the rabbit hole for a minute.”

“See anything nice down there?” Cady smiles, and their tone is light with a slightly sarcastic edge, but even with the poor quality video, Janis can see the worry around her eyes.

“No white rabbits, no mad tea parties either,” she mutters. “Beginning to think there was some false advertising going on.”

“Take that up with Disney,” Cady says dryly. “They lied to you.”

They talk for a bit more, about stupid, meaningless stuff like school and math and Maxie (that last one isn’t so meaningless), and over time Janis turns onto her side, her phone gently balanced between her mattress and her arm. Janis feels their time coming to a close; with her next round approaching and Cady probably having to go do actual productive stuff. Still she feels reluctant to let them go, especially when little nagging doubts hang at the back of her mind and desperately beg for reassurance. She bides her time even with them, waiting until they’re both quiet, when she can’t bring up something else and stop herself from asking. She feels stupid asking, but she can’t not ask it either.

“So…” she finally asks. “You like the wig?”

Cady smiles and Janis hears the rush of her exhale crackling against the mic.

“I do,” they reply. “I really do. You look good, Jan.” Janis grins at that, a weight lifted off her chest that she hadn’t realised was there. “And you like it too?”

“Of course,” she replies. “I mean, what’s not to like? I look hot. And it… feels good, I guess. It feels nice to have hair again.” She bites her tongue before she can say anything else. Cady doesn’t need to know about anything else, about how this is probably the closest to looking (and feeling) normal she’s gotten in a long time. All Cady needs to do is be happy here. “Kay, I’ll let you go, babe. See you later.”

“See you,” Cady says. But just as Janis is about to press the hang up button, Cady interjects, “Janis?” Her finger pauses a hair’s length from the screen. “I love the wig, seriously. But I also… you looked great without it too.” They shrug awkwardly at that, their eyes avoiding her. “Just… thought you should know.”

They hang up before Janis can respond, and all she can do is sit and wonder how she would have responded to that.                

                                                                                       *****

She spends much of the evening in her bedroom, curled up in a ball with her chin on her pyjama-clad knees. Her most recent round was-for some reason-a particularly strong one, and as it pushed its way through her veins it took more and more out of her in return. She’s been assured time and again that this is normal, standard procedure, and that above all it means the medicine’s working, doing what it’s supposed to be doing. She should be glad of that, if that’s the case. But oh boy, does it make her feel crummy.

“Okay. Kitchen’s nearly closed, last chance to eat something,” her mom says. She’s standing in the middle of the room, hovering between her bed and the door, her hands wrung together. “You want something?”

Janis shakes her head and turns onto her side as her stomach twists once again, a shiver running through her body. She looks at the wall, the TV on playing some show she’s long since stopped paying attention to.

“You sure, hon?”

In her mind, there’s a verbal answer, but in reality she only nods and pulls the covers tighter around her. Her mom folds her arms, her eyes flitting to the ground. Weeks ago she’d have insisted over and over again that Janis eat something, bargaining with her until Janis either finally gave in and agreed to pick at whatever meal she brought up or until Janis snapped at her and the argument fizzled out. Now though she just nods in understanding and brings her over a glass of water.

It’s less draining for both of them, but not by much.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” she tells her. “Holler if you need anything.”

I’ll holler she means to say, but her throat is dry and tight and the words never make it past her cracked lips.

Her mom slips out the door, letting it click shut behind her and the sound of her footsteps is quickly lost in the evening buzz. Another thing her mom has learned about nights like these is to close the door on her way out and back in. You wouldn’t think it matters, but it does. The idea of talking feels alien to her at these points, and the only thing more impossible is getting up and shutting the door herself.

Quiet hums in the empty room, her ears ringing in it. It will pass, she reminds herself, like it always does, it’s just a question of when. In an hour, tomorrow morning, tomorrow night. She might spend the next 24 hours in this very same position, the only thing changing being the time on the clock. She has done that once or twice before. Lost whole days of her life half-sitting in a bed while other people flocked around her.

She takes a long, steady breath in as her insides roll again and goosebumps prickle on her white skin. She reaches over and manages to make herself lift the water sitting by her bed, taking it in in small, careful sips. She burrows further into the mattress and pulls the covers ever tighter around her as she searches for an extra semblance of warmth. As she wriggles, her wig slowly slides off her scalp, the longer strands sticking her pale, sweat covered neck.

With her free hand, she weakly reaches up and grabs a fistful of it; what once felt soft and beautiful now feels tatted and coarse in her clammy grip. She sits for a while, curling and uncurling her fist before, in one swift motion, she pulls it off her head and lets it drape across her lap, having no need for it now. It’s just for show after all, she realises, and who would she be showing off for now?                                                                                        ******

When she wakes up the next morning, she only feels a little bit better, and she panics when she realises the day that’s in it. It’s Friday, marked on the little calendar beside her bed as “Damian and Cady day”. She did that not long ago, when the support group suggested reminding herself what she has to look forward to. It felt like a good idea at the time, but now the glitter pen sits and mocks her. Cady and Damian are coming today, and she feels like she’s been dragged through a bush and then thrown in front of a bus.

She pushes herself upwards, blinking in the overhead lights, and rests her chin on her fist. Maybe she isn’t as bad as she thinks she is. Certainly, last night sitting up like this would have been near impossible, so that’s a win. And she feels up for trying to eat at least, although whether or not she could finish it is yet to be seen. Still, it’s an improvement, right? That has to count for something.

“Baby steps, Janis,” she reminds herself. “Just… baby steps.” She pushes herself around so that her feet dangle over the side of the bed, her legs stiff and sore from the lack of movement from yesterday, not to mention cold air nipping at them. The heaters should be coming on any minute now. She grips the side of the mattress tightly, her palms pressing hard into the surface until they hurt. Her eyes don’t move from one spot on the wall, a trick she learned early on. Although this time it isn’t to stop the room from spinning, it’s to stop herself from backing out. She breathes out slowly, the air creeping past her gritted teeth, and stands up.

She surprise herself, even with the near tumble she takes when she gets there. But not eating for twelve consecutive hours will do that to you, she supposes with a shrug, and she stretches out her body, not bothering to hide the groans and sighs of relief as she does so.  The feeling comes back into her hands as she shakes them out before checking herself in the mirror. She’s not completely fine with it; dark smudges still sit beneath her eyes, her skin still as white as the sheets on her bed, but she can work with this. She can build herself back up from last night.

Especially now that she’s got this.

She turns around and soon spots the wig sitting on the stand clipped to the end of her bed. Since she doesn’t remember picking it up and was certainly in no state to be doing so, she guesses her mom must have done so. When she picks it up, she finds it brushed out too, and makes a mental note to thank her mom for it.

She throws it on herself and pushes the bangs slightly out of her eyes before looking back up. It’s amazing, really, the difference this thing makes. With this, plus a few tricks with her make-up, she could probably pass for healthy. Or at least, not as sick as she actually is. The corner of her mouth turns up into a smile as she thinks about to; dares to dream about going out in public without sympathetic looks or pity-induced freebies being thrown her way. Is she wrong to be excited about this?

And the most important part; in front of Cady and Damian, she can look better, and that’s what she’s aiming for more than anything else.

                                                                                               ******

By that afternoon, she’s not where she wants to be, but she’s at a healthy middle at least. By that she means she can push through it and convincingly cover up the fact that her body is crumbling inside. It’s far from ideal, but she’s more than happy to stick with it. If it’s sucking it up for a few hours or losing one of the few times she sees her friends in person rather than on a video call, it’s a no brainer, really.

She keeps a bottle of water by her bed and another one close by, just in case, and spends the day carefully arranging herself in her bed, not so comfortable she’ll never get out but at the same time letting herself store up strength. It makes the day longer, all this sitting around and careful eating, and she has enough sense to know what she’s doing is ridiculous. And it makes her realise, again, how she can’t freaking wait for all this to be over. For there to be a time when she can hang out with her friends without having to feel like she’s putting on a show for them.

She just about remembers to put her wig on before they arrive. Gingerly, she lifts it from its stand and slips it on, her hands delicate and cautious, like she’s handling a live animal. She runs her fingers through it and pushes the bangs back slightly, away from her face. She does tend to look better when they’re like that. She tugs and pulls at it for a few seconds, and then the seconds become minutes, all the while she keeps an anxious eye on the clock. She can see them in her mind’s eye, crossing the lobby, getting into the elevator, the doors opening, and strangely she feels like she’s fighting against time as she gets ready.  

She’s just got it the way she wants when Cady pokes her head around the door, and she forces herself to breathe.

“Hey babe,” she says softly, tiptoeing swiftly across the floor and onto the bed, holding her hand out. A soft groan escapes Janis as Cady pulls her down and settles on top of her, equal parts careful and playful. Damian sits himself in the visitor’s chair with his feet up on her bed and his chin rested on his fist, giving her a small wink as he sits.

“Like the bandana,” she tells him, gesturing with her chin. Rather than a hat, his head today is covered by a yellow bandana, tied in a neat bow at the base of his head, and she vaguely recognises it, the memory like a fuzzy old video slowly becoming sharper. “Is that from Calamity?”

“Indeed,” he replies. “I was clearing out my closet and found it there. It’s neat, isn’t it?”

“Really neat,” she grins. “I’m just amazed it took you that long to fish it back out again. Wasn’t that show sophomore year?”

“Yes, and I feel horrible for neglecting her,” he sighs, fingering the edges. “I think I’m going to lean into the whole cowboy look now. I mean I already have the suspenders.”

“And an excuse to wear the funky hat,” Janis reminds him. “You know, I say go for it. If you can’t dress up like a cowboy during your senior year of high school, when can’t you?”

“Plus, if you get a boyfriend this year, you’ll be able to call him ‘partner’ without it sounding weird!” Cady adds in. There’s a momentary flicker across her face as soon as she says it, like she regrets it, but the moment Janis and Damian’s eyes meet they both bust out laughing, their eyes wide and their smiles even wider.

“Genius!” Damian declares. “I mean, we all knew you were a genius, but still. Genius!”

“Also does that make cowboys gay?” Janis adds. “If they had… ‘partners’?”

“Yes, cowboys are gay,” he replies. “That should be obvious to anyone.” Their laughter erupts again before slowly simmering down and Damian leans back while Janis swings her arm around Cady’s shoulders. Damian then opens his mouth only to close it again, his smile faltering and picking up again in the next second.

“And… speaking of headgear… might I say that the wig looks even cooler in person?” he says.

“Oh, this old thing?” She lowers her voice and imitates the old 1940s movie stars, tossing her hair over her shoulder and batting her eyelashes. She can’t deny the thrill that one of those actions gave her. “Oh, I just brought it out for you.”

“Well it looks stunning, doll face,” he replies, doing the same impression. Janis nods and hopes the glow on her cheeks is just in her mind.

“You know, those bangs really do suit you,” Cady remarks.

“Take your grievances up with eleven year old me who wanted to grow them out,” she sighs. “Eleven year old Janis made so many bad decisions.” Cady hums at that. Then her arm shifts behind Janis, and then her fingertips are touching the ends of her wig. It’s a discreet, delicate move, almost like she’s testing it out. In fact, it’s so light that Janis wouldn’t have known had she not caught it in the mirror. It’s not her hair after all. Just a replacement.

Her eyes meet Cady’s then, and hers are tinged with apprehension, a question in them. Janis replies with a smile and gently pulls her closer.

Even if it’s not her real hair, it feels almost the same.

Their time ends the way it often does, with Damian getting a text from his mom and looking sheepishly at the other two, giving them the silent signal that they have to go, even with half an hour left on the movie they stuck on. Cady sighs, dejected, but the unfinished movies have become a near-permanent fixture in their visits, so much so that Janis now knows not to put on a movie she had been meaning to show Cady, filing them for later.

“So I’ll call you tonight?” Damian asks.

“I look forward to it.” She pulls him into a tight hug, stretching on her toes only slightly. “See if you can find me a matching bandana in your closet, okay?”

“Deal.”

With that, and Cady’s goodbye kiss, she waves the two of them off, leaning on her door, half in the hallway, and watching them going. On a better day she’d walk them to the elevator, but just sitting down like that had depleted her. They both turn back to give her a final wave, and she has to laugh, and then they disappear around the corner.  

And then she lets out the most guilt-ridden sigh of relief there has ever been.

She turns around, groaning as the room tilts, and stumbles across to her bed. Her bedside water is nearly depleted, but the one under her bed is too far for her to reach. She can get it in just a minute, when the ringing in her ears stops and the room stops tilting, she decides. Even if she’d really, really love it now.

She buries her face in the pillow, her grip turning from tight to vice-like as she tries to block out her thoughts. Maybe if she falls asleep now, the water issue with disappear.

She must fall asleep, because when she opens her eyes again it’s an hour and a half later, and her throat is dry and cracked and her back is stiff. She pushes herself up into some half-sitting position and stretches herself out, her groan long and high and unapologetic. Not like anyone can hear her with the door closed and the people who could hear her probably don’t care. She pushes the curtain of hair away from her face before just pulling it off altogether and tossing it on the table. She’ll get round to fixing that sooner or later.

She wishes she could say that nap did her the world of good, but that isn’t really how it works. She needed it, yes, but now she feels like her brain has pins and needles and that her insides were shaken up. At least she won’t have any more visitors for tonight, she thinks, and so she leans back on her pillows, her hand clumsily reaching for her phone and her water.

There are two texts on the screen when she turns it on, one from Damian and one from their groupchat. She swipes the groupchat one away, seeing it’s from Gretchen and therefore probably not concerning her anyway, and after thinking on it for a second, she swipes Damian’s away too. She’ll come back to it when she feels like a person, she tells herself.

She blinks heavily and as she does, the screen comes into sharper focus and she sees the date across it. It’s the second last day of November, she realises with a sigh. Maybe she should have realised with the springing up of decorations and the darker skies and much longer nights. December is right around the corner and that thought brings none of the festive cheer it usually would. Instead all she can think is that she should have been getting out of here soon. If everything had gone according to plan, she’d be on her last few weeks. She’d probably be packing up to leave and throwing a goodbye party. Instead that’s all put off and she instead has another two months of this crap. And honestly, two months doesn’t even mean anything anymore.

Still, it’s at least halfway over, and when she feels up to it she’ll be happy about that.

[wrathofthewind]

iv. Child

A bowl of hot soup hadn’t been the trick. Once Arnalt had taken that young boy to his palace from the Jungles of Tahr, it required several bowls, more than a few butchered pigs and quite the large amount of bags of rice. The boy was insatiable. It wasn’t a normal appetite either, any stomach would’ve given out. It shouldn’t have been so alarming, but with rumours of his status as a Kurian child, the state in which he arrived, the hunger with which he ate— in an unrefined matter no less, it didn’t take long for the kitchen staff to stop sending out dishes.

“More.” Arnalt demanded, his chilly gaze sweeping over the service.

“Sire… we, we’re not able to continue.”

“What, did we run out of chickens? Is the State in my name so devoid of birds?”

The servant daren’t speak, but they had already crossed a line. Any other household would have them released. That’s probably what they wanted.

“Here then,” Arnalt tossed his bow and signaled with his chin towards the bag of arrows in the corner of the room. “Go hunt something then. Pallax!”

Pallax came walking swiftly.

“Can it be we really ran out of chickens?”

“Sire, they…”

He waited for the servant to clear the room. Nervous glances thrown sideways at both him and Tyssen.

“They don’t want to keep… feeding a Kurian.”

Arnalt pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly rubbed it, eyes closed.

The boy started coughing behind them. Arnalt approached him and slapped his back, making him spit a bone.

“No wonder you’re choking. Slow down!”

Pallax grimaced.

Nobody wanted to touch the Kurian, or look at the Kurian, or acknowledge it was there anymore. But Pallax was a loyal vassal, and willingly stepped in to try and place a fork and knife or other cutlery on the child’s hand.

Arnalt smiled at him brightly. “Thank you.”

It disturbed Pallax momentarily, who nearly dropped the fork. But just as quickly, Arnalt was once again stern-faced and pacing the room. He then sat in front of the child on the table.

“You.”

The boy didn’t pay attention, so he snapped his fingers in front of his face to draw his eyes. “Yes, you. What’s your name?”

“Mar… Marius.” He tried to speak between mouthfuls. “Marius Ihnat di Aedan.”

“So you do speak.” And had a strong name actually. Arnalt had already assumed the boy probably came from a wealthy merchant family, with the quality of his tattered clothes and the few jeweled accessories they found in his pockets. It seemed he might be of one with rank and title too.  

“What about your age? You look about 7? 8? Do you know how to count?” Arnalt raised his palm up to try and signal the numbers with his fingers.

“12.” He chewed the remaining bits of rice and potatoes in his mouth and swallowed briskly, immediately reaching for another bowl of soup and drinking it down, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with large gulps.

Arnalt and Pallax both blinked, looked at each other, then back at Marius.

“That’s… then why do you look so…” Pallax said.

Arnalt lifted a hand to stop him. “Nevermind, so you’ve been quite hungry haven’t you?”

Marius nodded and finally seemed to be done with the food he could safely consume. He burped generously and quickly covered his mouth.

Arnalt snorted, while Pallax looked offended beyond belief. “Such lack of manners in front of his Highness, how dare—“

“It’s alright, he doesn’t understand what I am.”

“You’re the prince.” Marius said simply, his eyes suddenly wide and honest. “You’re the seventeenth prince, his royal highness Arnalt Azuria. The Eagle.”

He sounded like a pamphlet. Arnalt was mildly shocked. “Right.”

“…”

“Where are you from?”

“…”

“How did you end up in the Jungles?”

“…”

And the most difficult question. “Where are your parents.”

“They’re gone.” Marius looked down, fixating on his lap.

“I see.” Arnalt didn’t know what else to say.

“I know what they say. I know I’m cursed. Is it true this is my last meal?”

A lightbulb suddenly popped in Arnalt’s head. He started laughing heartily, slamming his fist on the table and shaking all over with his head lowered. “Is this why you’ve eaten all my chickens? Hahaha!”

Pallax was mortified.

Marius’s eyes watered.

“You silly child. I was just confirmed and crowned into the Azurian pantheon thanks to that Vegna Spyralia you carried in your fist.” Arnalt felt his face grow a little hot suddenly, having called him a child wasn’t quite right, considering he was only 4 years younger, but his body looked so young he couldn’t help himself. He wondered how long he’d been malnourished in those Jungles. It must’ve been several years. How did he learn to speak so eloquently? Why did he know his name, rank and title? How was he informed of the goings on of the world? Did he sneak out of Tahr? He might’ve unknowingly contaminated others so Arnalt made a mental note to order a full territory sweep. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, I’ve granted you my Mercy. You will not die under my watch, you hear me?”

The boy’s wet eyes blossomed, his arm immediately coming up to wipe at his suddenly wet cheeks.

Arnalt thought it was both a silly and happy occasion, so he kept laughing to Pallax’s horror. “Now, now, no need to cry. You’re safe.”

“I see.” Marius said, his voice trembling. “In that case…” he sniffed and composed himself, straightening his shoulders. “Use me as you will. I pledge myself to your house.” Marius lowered his head solemnly. It was a bit amusing coming from someone so young, who looked so much younger than his age.

Arnalt smiled, his chin resting leisurely on the back of his hand. “As you wish.”

***

With the battle aganist Ithana squared away and scheduled, and a few other council duties and reprimands already brought over to his desk, Arnalt wrapped up the final tasks of the day and went back to the kitchen quarters. 

He entered Marius’s chambers like a sudden gust, a heavy bag strapped on his back.

Marius instantly moved to stand from the bed where he’d been resting from his relentless training, no doubt ready to assist with the bag, but Arnalt had already sat down in front of him, and Marius remained with his torso raised but the rest of him firmly laying on the bed. He awkwardly tried shifting so that he could at least move into a more formal sitting position, even if the coarse robes he wore could never lend an air of formality to the situation, at the very least his posture could contribute. Next to him was a bowl of hot soup made with chicken stock, boiled chicken strips, corn and sliced potatoes, prepared exactly as they’d been years ago when he was still a child.

Arnalt had gone to the kitchen to order it and asked the staff to keep it coming throughout the night. Naturally he wouldn’t deliver something like that himself, and he didn’t want to make it so important that Marius would suddenly inquire about it.

A servant came in with another bowl and this time Arnalt waved a hand. “Alright that’s the final one, you’re dismissed and no need to send more until the morning.”

The servant quietly placed the bowl on the small wooden table next to Marius’s bed and just as quietly shuffled out of the room--their steps eagerly faster as they were allowed to leave.

Arnalt kept staring with an icy glare which to others would’ve seemed combative but to Marius merely showed Arnalt was deep in thought. It was still a little nerve-wracking, his whole countenance was already so cool and refined, like a porcelain doll with marble grey eyes. At times it felt like staring into a storm, and others like speaking to a stone. The eerie silence begged to be broken.  

“So, now can I say this is my last meal?” Marius said.

Arnalt was surprised by the sheer cheek of that remark. “Your humor is astounding.” And also how perceptive! Just like that, the porcelain glimmered back to life and a bit of peachy softness rose up, as if Arnalt was ashamed to have found that particular joke charming. 

“My impulse is to punish you, everything that’s happened, everything you’ve done, it’s all led to this. This is your fault. You need to bear responsibility. I did my best to warn you and you still won’t listen. And don’t say your duty is to protect me.” Arnalt pre-emptively raised his hand to pause Marius’s reply. “Your duty, first and foremost is to serve, and to listen. I expect my orders followed. Now with everything coming up, this time you will follow instructions precisely or so help me Aegerian gods I will deliver you to the Glaes Winterlands myself.”

Marius glanced at Arnalt’s fist. It was clenched unconsciously. Arnalt quickly released it. 

“Tomorrow, I’ll duel Ithana to secure a vote in your favor in the High Council.”

“As if a vote would matter much...” Marius muttered.

“Of course a vote matters for shit.” Arnalt exclaimed. “I’ll just act as a distraction.”

“My Lord-- why would... that’s not--” Marius looked deeply uncomfortable and ready to jump in and make some bold statement, but Arnalt cut in before he could even start.

“And you, so-called hellhound of Kur,” Arnalt threw the bag he’d been carrying on his back on the ground, a weight off his shoulders that was so visible his body practically lifted once he’d let that bag go, “you’ll run away.”

Marius paled. 

“This is where we say our goodbyes. May you have a good life.”

He couldn’t understand why Marius looked so shocked, or why his fists clenched. 

True, his life might be difficult outside of the palace of the 17th Prince, but he could manage at least a few weeks on his own before anyone recognized his identity. There were ways to hide the marks that made him a Kurian. Either way, the boy had been extensively trained and should if anything find some manual labor in a small village somewhere. 

They both heard a few hard steps and then the door slid, Tyssen had entered and bowed quickly. “Your highness, I’ve arranged everything.”

“Tyssen will brief you on your escape route.” Arnalt stood up.

Marius quickly rose to his feet. “My Lord, wait I—!”

“Make sure he memorizes that map tonight and have him equipped by dawn. I’ll try to keep the battle going until noon.”

Even Tyssen’s eyes widened, but he knew better than to contradict. He bowed once more. “Yes, your Highness, and-- Calm down you!” He pushed Marius back and locked the door as Arnalt left.

Arnalt heard Marius yelling behind him. “My Lord please reconsider. This is impossible! My Lord listen—!”

But Arnalt quickly walked away to avoid changing his mind. This was as much as he could do, battle Ithana until his body gave out, at least by then Marius would have escaped, and he would’ve kept his word.

Marius would absolutely not die under his watch. And he’d already made as much use of Marius’s oath as he could. The boy had downright become a liability anyway. 

Even if the idea of remaining in the arena, standing, for seven hours straight against Ithana… was probably exactly as Marius had said: impossible.

Well fuck impossible.

Arnalt unconsciously gripped his Aerial ring between two fingers and turned it nervously. After a while, he’d already let go. 

[pinkevilbobdoesthings]

IT HALLOWEEN MONTH!!! Have monster!! Here’s “Hard Work and Science”.

Jester woke up with a groan. Her everything hurt. Every muscle, every joint, every nerve, and every inch of skin was sore. Not in a “oh please let the sweet kiss of death release me from this agony” way, but more in an “all I want in life is a hot bath” way. She tried to open her eyes, but the room was too bright. “Nnngh,” she moaned. Trying to get up, she found that her arms were strapped down to her bed. No, it was too firm to be her bed.

“Oh,” someone said. It was more of a sudden intake of breath than a word. Whoever it was mumbled something to themself.

“Mmmnngh, what’s going on?” Jester asked squinting to try to see where she was, but it was still too bright.

“You’re sentient,” the voice said like he could scarcely believe it.

Jester tugged at the straps again. “I’m what?”

“You’re sentient. You’re an intelligent being capable of independent thought.”

“Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I be? Um, can you do something about the lights?” Jester asked.

“Oh, ja, here. I shouldn’t be surprised that you have some light sensitivity.”

Cracking an eye open, Jester found that the room was a lot more bearable. She looked around to see a sterile room. It looked almost looked like a hospital room, but there were all sorts of cages along the wall. “Where are we? Why am I strapped down?”

“Oh, this is my, well, I guess you’d call it my operating room.” The owner of the voice stepped closer. He looked like he was in his mid thirties and had long messy ginger hair. Dark circles hung under his blue eyes and almost looked like bruises against his pale skin. He wore a ratty old lab coat and a blue scarf that had seen much better days. With more sleep and a better coat, he could be handsome though. “As for the straps, they’re to keep you from accidentally pulling out your IV.”

“Oh, that makes sense, I guess. Wait, IV? What happened?” Jester asked. She tried to remember the day before, but it was a blur. The last thing she could remember was that she was spending the day with her mom.

The man turned away and rubbed his arm. His fingers and part of his right hand were all tinged black like a piece of wood that was partially burnt, and his arms were pocked with old puncture marks. “There was a car accident, Miss Lavorre. You were thrown from 50 feet out the window. They nearly didn’t find you.”

Jester leaned forward straining at the straps. “My mom! What happened to my mom?!”

“Marion Lavorre is alive and well. She sustained some bruising and lacerations, but they’ve already healed,” he said.

“Where is she? Can I go see her?” Jester asked.

The man shook his head. “She’s at home most likely, and unfortunately, you can’t see her.”

“Why not?” Jester demanded. “She must be worried sick. My mom needs me.”

“Miss Lavorre, you must believe me when I tell you that that’s an impossible request,” he said.

Tears began to well up in Jester’s eyes. She pulled at the straps holding her wrists down. “You don’t get it! She needs me!”

He let out a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Miss Lavorre, your mother has known about your death for the last three months. I don’t think showing up at her door would do either of you any good.”

Jester froze. “Death?” That made no sense. She was alive. She was breathing. There was no way she was dead.

“Yes, death. You died in the car crash. The reanimation of dead tissue is a complicated process, but one that I’ve managed to accomplish,” the man said. He said it blandly like it wasn’t a big deal.

It made no sense. There was no way he was telling the truth. Jester yanked at the strap on her right arm one more time and tore it off the bed along with a chunk of the bed. She stared at it.

“Could you do that before?”

Jester shook her head.

“A marked increase of strength of then. I didn’t even consider the possibility.” The man rubbed his stubbly chin. “How do you feel?”

Jester stared at him for a long moment and then began to cry. It was all too much and none of it made any sense. Sloppy tears poured down her cheeks.

Gentle hands removed the strap from her left hand. “Ah, I see your eyes are still capable of lubricat-” He stopped. “I’m sorry, I should start over. My name’s Caleb Widogast.”

“I’m Jester,” she said rubbing her eyes. She stopped and stared at her hands. They were completely blue. Jester looked at Caleb hoping for an explanation.

“I see you noticed.” Caleb looked away. “It was an unforeseen side effect. I was hoping to bring you back without any noticeable changes.”

Jester gripped the thin blanket that covered her. “Why did you do this to me?”

“Why? Because -” Caleb paused and looked down at his strangely tinted hands. “Because you were what I needed to prove my hypothesis. I’m sorry, but I had no noble reason in bringing you back.”

“What’s going to happen to me now?”

Caleb sat down at the edge of the bed. “I’m not cruel. You can stay here. I need to keep track of your vitals anyways.”

Jester looked around the stark and clinical room. It was enough to make her cry again.

“Or you could have my room. It’s not like I sleep much anyways. Though, I don’t know how much you’ll need to sleep now. Frumpkins 1, 3, 4, and 7 sleep much less than they did when they were alive, but Frumpkins 2, 5, and 8 sleep the same amount and Frumpkin 6 sleeps much more.” Caleb rambled talking with his hands animatedly. If Jester met him in a different situation, she would’ve been more curious about him, but all she wanted was to go home. He seemed to notice her and stopped. “Wait, here.” Going over to the cages, Caleb opened one and pulled out a small bengal cat. “This is the first Frumpkin. He died two years ago, came back a year and a half ago, and is my best boy.” Gently, he put Frumpkin onto Jester’s lap.

The cat purred loudly and kneaded Jester’s lap. She stroked the cat’s fur. “Is this a test or something? Do I still like animals?”

“I don’t know if you like cats in the first place, Miss Lavorre. I’m just not very good at people. Frumpkin’s better at helping them than I am,” Caleb said staring down at the foot at the bed. “I was hoping that he could help you.” And all at once he wasn’t a strange, distant mad scientist, but someone small and lost.

“He’s a very good boy,” Jester said.

Caleb nodded. “Ja, and he prefers having his chin scritched to his ears.”

Jester scratched under Frumpkin’s chin earning an even louder purr. “You didn’t think through this whole bringing me back to life thing did you?”

“Nein, I’m starting to notice that I haven’t. Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

Jester gave him her best smile under the circumstances. “I’ll have to be.”

Caleb frowned looking at her. “I won’t be upset if you’re mad at me.”

“I don’t like being mad at people.” Jester continued to scratch Frumpkin. “Besides, being mad at you doesn’t change anything.”

“Still, if there’s I can do for you,” Caleb said.

Jester looked up from Frumpkin. “I am kind of hungry.”

“Oh, ja. I’ve got something for that. Just wait a moment,” Caleb said over his shoulder as he left the room.

Jester watched as he left and then lifted Frumpkin off of her lap. “I’m sorry, but I have to check something.” With a deep breath steeling her nerves, Jester lifted the blanket off to look at the rest of her. A plain cotton hospital gown covered her. Caleb probably put it on her and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Her legs were the same blue as her arms. More concerning the large cuts held together by stitches. There were two on her left leg and one on her right. She checked her arms and found more stitches right below her left shoulder. “I guess I’m like Frankenstien now, right Frumpkin?”

“Actually, Frankenstein’s monster was made up of parts from multiple sources. All of you is Miss Jester Lavorre,” Caleb said as he came back in. “If we were to compare you to a work of fiction, the test subjects from Re-Animator would be more accurate.”

“Oh,” Jester said softly. “How long will these take to heal?”

Caleb set down two plates on the little rolling table next to Jester’s bed. “I don’t know if they will heal. Some of the Frumpkins have maintained their ability to heal, but not all of them.” Jester stared at him in horror, but he didn’t seem to notice it. “Now, I don’t know what your stomach can handle yet and I don’t expect you to eat all of this, but it’s all easy to digest.”

On the larger plate was a clumpy pile of rice, some partially squished pieces of banana, and a baggy of apple slices. The other plate just had two pieces of dry toast. It wasn’t the most appetizing looking meal, but Jester wasn’t going to complain. She took a bite of apple and grimaced. It tasted waxy and flavorless, but she put on a smile anyways. “Thank you, but um dry toast?”

“It’s easy on the stomach, but I guess you’re right about it not being the most appealing. Here.” He ducked behind a counter and came back up with a jar of peanut butter and a water bottle. “We’ll just add enough to make it easier to eat.” Caleb then added what must’ve been the thinnest layer of peanut butter known to mankind.

“Thanks.” Jester added two bits of banana and an apple slice to make a smiley face. It was happier than she felt and failed to improve her mood. She took a bite trying not to cry. Instead she changed the subject. “Why do your hands look like that?”

Caleb’s face turned red and he shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets. “Just an experiment that went poorly.”

“Sorry,” Jester said picking at her rice.

“It’s nothing to apologize for. Curiosity is important.” He put on a pair of gloves and pulled out a notebook. “How is it? Does it taste like what it did when you were alive?”

“I don’t know,” Jester said shrugging. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of the problem being in her tongue and not the bland food Caleb gave her. “I mean I guess it’s rice and toast.”

“Hmmm,” Caleb said jotting something down.

Jester tried to eat a few more bites, but her heart just wasn’t in it. Pushing the table aside, she looked over at Caleb. “Can I ask for something?”

“Ja, of course.”

“Can I have a mirror? To see what I look like?” Part of her was scared to see, but she had to know.

Caleb paled but nodded. He must’ve realized that she was going to want one as he grabbed a mirror off the counter. “You sustained some lacerations on your face, but they’re not as severe as the ones on your body and I was able to close them with surgical glue.“ Not looking at her, he handed her the mirror.

Jester held mirror for a long minute before raising it up to look in it. Looking would just make this nightmare all the more real, but she couldn’t avoid it forever. With a count to three, she brought up the mirror and gasped. “My freckles are blue!”

“Ja, they are,” Caleb agreed.

“That’s actually really cute.” Her hair was also blue too. Jester had always wanted to dye her hair that color.

Caleb nodded with a slight blush. “Ja.”

On further inspection, Jester still looked like her. The dimples on her cheeks still crinkled when she smiled and her eyes were still violet. Little bandages now graced her face though and must’ve covered the cuts Caleb mentioned. “Are these Captain Tusktooth bandages?”

“Ja, they were what I could find,” Caleb said looking away. “I wanted to make sure your facial lacerations were protected.” It was actually kinda sweet in a weird awkward way.

“Thanks. And I like the bandages. Captain Tusktooth is a lot better than a lot of people give it credit for.”

Caleb nodded. “Ja, it’s a great story and the animation is amazing.” His flat voice lost some of its monotone.

Jester grinned and leaned forward. “I know! Like that fight between Captain Tusktooth and Avantika was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“The new season’s going to start soon,” Caleb said. “I can’t wait for new episodes. I had the first three seasons on repeat while working on you.” He frowned. “I probably shouldn’t phrase it like that.”

Jester sat back. “Yeah. But, um, could we watch the new episodes together?”

“You’d want to?” Caleb asked. “With me?”

“I mean sure. It’s more fun to watch with somebody and it’s not like I have anywhere else to watch it,” Jester said.

“Oh right.” He looked almost disappointed. “If you don’t want to stay here, I’d understand.”

Jester bit her lip. “Do I have anywhere else to go?”

“You have a point there, but I’d help you find one. After I confirm that you are stable, of course.”

Jester gave it some thought. “I might take you up on that offer.”

Caleb looked almost disappointed but nodded. “Ja. Please understand that I don’t want you to feel trapped here.”

She already felt trapped in her own skin, but she didn’t say anything. Instead she just smiled at Caleb. If the gloves meant anything, maybe Caleb felt trapped too. Jester knew that she shouldn’t but she liked the idea of not being the only one who felt that way.

“If you need anything or have any questions, you can ask me,” Caleb said.

Jester gave it some thought. “Caleb, you said that you brought me back to prove a hypothesis. What was that hypothesis?”

He gave her the saddest smile in the world rubbing his arms. “Just that nothing can truly be lost forever. There’s something I need to take care of, but Frumpkin can keep you company.” Caleb gave her one last glance and left.

Frumpkin jumped up on Jester’s lap. She scratched his head. “Your owner is very strange.” And kind in his odd way. Jester wasn’t sure what to make of him yet, but she knew that she’d have all the time she needed to. “And who knows, Frumpkin? Maybe this will be fun.”

__________________________

Notes:

So yeah, I tried to make this a multi-chapter fic, but it just wasn't working. So one shot.

The title comes from "Live"by Paul and Storm.

[crystalinn]

I haven’t posted about this here yet, but boy howdy has my life been A Mess™️ of late.

TW: medical talk, high stress situations, mentions of blood under the cut

This is a very long post, so a mild TL;DR: ma’s sick and this is me for eternity now (loud noises in video): 

Picture it. November 10th (ish. Time is hard.). The motherbeast came down with a case of viral bronchitis. She got a few days off work to recover. 

A couple days pass. She went back to work. Her manager sent her in the cooler for two hours. 

An immediate downturn ft. a fall out of bed that took 45 minutes to fix, heavy panting, confusion, the whole lot. She went to the Express ER. They said “oh hey, your viral bronchitis has become full blown pneumonia. You’re goin’ to the Real Hospital™️ for two days. See if you respond well.” Turns out, she did, at first. 

About a week or two of what seemed like solid improvement all came crashing back down when her return to work arrived. She went back to work... or tried to. She went to step onto the curb and gravity said no. She faceplanted the pavement, and the ambulance was called. A thorough concussion check later, and her manager drove her and her truck home. The next day, she went back to the Express ER, and they said “oh shit, your lung xray is worse than last time. Back to the Hospital for you.” 

That stay was nine days long. She was tested for tuberculosis (which came back negative, thankfully), and had a PICC line installed. During said stay, she did get rather confused and agitated, as it was near the end of the month and the rent needed paid. She called me in the middle of the night, asking me to move her IV... despite me being at home. So that was a thing.

After she came home on the 4th of this month (December), I had to start administering her PICC line antibiotics, every 8 hours. Did y’all know that cefepime (a bigboi antibiotic) smells like someone doing unholy things to eggs? Sulfuric smelling bullshit, that. Had some hiccups there, what with massive air bubbles in the line and getting the infusion orb stuck on the line. We were supposed to be done the 25th. Then she went to her new primary care doctor, and it was extended to the 6th of January, which h.

Anyway, fast forward to the 23rd. Mum was out with a pal, getting some groceries, and some Miralax ‘cause... y’know, and she fell on her ass. At this point, falling down is like a glowing neon red flag. She came home, was a bit wobbly, but was generally okay. Her primary care doctor called after the home health nurses stole some blood to tell her that her potassium levels are critical. A friend/my ‘adopted’ brotherbeast, Frank, brought her a fuckton of bananas that night. 

Now this is where it gets real fuckin’ spicy. The morning of the 24th, after we get done with the 7am orb, I gave her a dose of Miralax. She was fine, until the 3pm orb, when severe gut cramps showed up. Those lasted until about midnight when things... moved along. After that, shit went downhill fast. I put her to bed after orb times at 11 pm, and she kept waking up. As time went on, she got more and more confused. Like, she knew general things, in a kinda slow way, but she could not follow directions. On the morning of the 25th (fucking Christmas.), things had reached its boiling point. She was very confused, unable to focus, slurring words. I rang up a friend, Sandy (who has been a massive help this whole time of Fuckery), to get her to the ER. This triggered a complete meltdown. It took both of us to get her out of her chair, not to mention the sudden burst of confused crying and begging not to go. 

We finally managed to get her there, and the ER’s like “yo this looks like a stroke, so we’re gonna keep her, do an MRI or three, and get back to you.” Turns out she was very dehydrated, currently has a UTI, and is still a bit... shall we say, fucked up. But, the MRI came out clean, but there was some issue with the PICC with like, a blood clot, but they cleaned it out, so they let her go on the 26th. 

But just wait for it... I put her to bed pretty much as soon as she got home, ‘cause she doesn’t sleep in the hospital. Makes sense, right? I went to check on her at about 8, and she was unable to really comply with requests/commands/questions. I’d ask “what’s your name?”, I’d get her name (most of the time), but when I’d ask “when’s your birthday?”, I’d get her name again. Or the fact she lost her PICC line cap, and I’d ask her to hold the newly sterilized port so it wouldn’t touch anything, she’d say okay, take it, and immediately drop it. Repeatedly. 

I broke down whilst on the phone with my dad because everything has been too much of late, and eventually put her back to bed to wait for the 11pm orb. 

11pm rolled around... and well. I couldn’t get her to wake up. She’d react to me poking and prodding her by making noise and moving away, but she would not wake up. Not properly. So, I called the on call home health nurse to see if she could help, and she pretty much told me to just call an ambulance. Not wanting the expense because I live in Hell the US, I called my dad. He helped me try to wake her up over the phone, but she flat refused. I was left with no choice. So, I called the ambulance, and just before they knocked on the door, she sat up like “huh?” but extra confused. She almost didn’t go to the hospital because she said “nah, I don’t want to go” but one of the EMTs was like “nah, you gotta go.”

So, she spent about 8 hours in the ER, and they told me that they can’t keep her since she was mostly lucid, but they did float an Idea (a skilled nursing facility, at least until she got her ducks in a row) to her that was immediately denied, but with some prodding from me, she finally agreed. So they moved her upstairs from the ER to keep her until they can find a facility in the Blue Cross/Blue Shield network that’s reasonably local. The one that came to visit yesterday turned out to not be, and I’m pretty sure the dude kicked it back to the Case Supervisor to see if they can find another. But, after they moved her into her room, she’s cleared up quite a bit. 

She’s still a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, a bit unfocused, and can get caught out in the grapes mentally, but she has improved a lot. 

Oh, and another thing she’s been doing is fighting me re: eating since the first go around. Bread’s a texture issue, rice is hard to eat without teeth, and everything else “smells bad” (which, since she’s quit smoking as of that second hospital stay... I understand, but you gotta sometimes push past that.) I did manage bananas though. Thank fuck for those. 

But, back to the plot: today (the 28th) was a decent day. Much clearer, less starts and stops in her speech. A bit more focused. She didn’t manage to sleep last night, so she was kinda tired. Had another MRI, but we won’t know about that until probably tomorrow (the 29th). Maybe. Had some PICC issues, though. The nurse got the cefepime running just fine, then mum had to use the bathroom, and when she came out, the machine started screaming bloody murder. After that, the nurse came back and tried to flush the line, since the cefepime was unable to run, and when she took the syringe off, the saline shot right back out... which ain’t supposed to happen. Hit me, the nurse, mum, the bed... probably got the windows too. So they’re working on that, and hopefully they figure it out.

Had my own woes at the hospital today, too. The sole of my boot fell off, so my ride/friend/adopted sister?, Sandy, went to walmart and got me some Heavy Duty Superglue, which I got it about half way stuck before we had to leave... then when we were pulling into the parking lot at home, the nurse in charge called to ask some questions about the PICC, the antibiotic, how long it’d been there, how long she was supposed to be on it, the pharmacy’s number, all that. So I went to get out of the car, my coke bottle fell out of my pocket, started rolling under the car, and I overextended. Fell right on my knees. They are not happy. Took a hot minute to get my dumb ass off the ground, without hurting Sandy, who is like 5′2″ and v smol. I am 5′6″ and... decidedly not. Plus the bonus rain.

UPDATE 12/29/2019: the diverticulitis has made a reappearance. It’s like everything is just It’s free real estate.

UPDATE 12/31/2019: Around 2 am this morning, she managed to roll out of bed and whack her head pretty good on something. They did a CT scan, and it came out clean. No concussion. However, now she has a sitter/keeper/minder to make sure she doesn’t do it again. It’s a good thing the nurses heard her fall, ‘cause despite being armed, the bed alarm didn’t go off. I know of all of this, ‘cause the hospital called me at 3 this morning, and boy howdy that’s a gut drop, let me tell you. But, better a CT ride and a bump on her noggin vs. the alternative. Sure is one thing after a-fucking-nother, ain’t it though.

UPDATE 1/1/2020: 2019 keep your problems challenge: she's had a major mental shift again, and now she's really groggy, really confused... So the hospital moved her to the ICU and called me for consent on a spinal tap, just to make sure they're not missing anything. Other than that, they've done x-rays and another CT, I think to check her spine, hips, the one leg she's been having issues with. The doctors also think that it may be the cefepime causing this altered mental state, and after doing some digging, boy howdy I sure believe it. Cephalosporins are some nasty fuckers.

So! That’s been my month and a half! I’d like to take a break now, please!

EDIT: Further updates found here.

[jflashandclash]

Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Thirty-seven: Ajax

I am No Longer A Baby Panda

             Later, Pax would say he admired his mother’s stylish entrance.

           At the time, he was just horrified. And maybe a little annoyed. He’d been proud of himself for getting back Frank’s stick and not having to sleep with his sister (something, he realized, really ought to cue him in that he had hit an all-time-low) and now the Goddess of Night had to steal the limelight—haha, steal the light—and tackle Apollo out of the sky.

           Everything happened at once.

           As the sun fell, ghostly silhouettes groaned out of the blackness. The lingering ghosts spilled from the forests, out of the shadows they’d been watching, and cackled with gleeful war cries.

           Rotting corpses staggered towards Camp Half-Blood, an army at least four times larger than the one the Romans had been holding back earlier. Melinoe, her half-mummified, half-fireplace fabulous carcass, led the charge.

           The piercing notes of a pipe echoed through the fields and a huntress, a Greek, and a Roman[1] standing guard at the border collapsed.

           A suction of warm air eased away from the camp, and Pax knew the Mist shield—if it had been recovering—was completely down again.

           The ground rumbled. Pax hoped, but doubted, that it was Nico or Axel to the rescue with a secret, giant mole army.

           Instead, a massive black serpent exploded from—if Pax had to guess—that hole in the ground that Jack had voice-activated outside Hera’s cabin. You know, the major weakness of their defenses in the center of the camp that really ought to have a Welcome, Python, sign, We Forgot You RSVPed.

           By now, the screams were omnipresent.

           When Python collapsed onto the Apollo cabin, Pax liked to think there were as many screams afterwards as before Python decided to use the once-golden structure as a back scratcher.

           Romans spilled out of the barracks. Greeks scrambled out of their cabins, er, the cabins that were left.

           “Turn on the field lights!” Frank shouted from somewhere by the barracks.

           The Canadian’s orders came to light and brought the ghastly attackers to high definition. The thump of the field lights echoed around the strawberry field. Pax had to wonder if substitute sunlight could weaken ghosts, and, if so, whether the Romans should seriously consider adding horticultural LED grow-lamps to their infantry.

           Michael Kahale and Butch were with half-a-dozen demigods towards their edge of the strawberry field, apparently having been planning defenses for this evening. Well, surprise!

           In a breath’s pause, Butch looked towards Python and Kahale blinked at the advancing ghoul army. The debate on whether to help with Python or guard the border lasted all of Michael Kahale ordering the troops to stand strong on the strawberry field. “To arms! Defend our barrier!”

           What a mighty battle cry Michael missed out on; Pax would have said, Defend our berries!

           Pax felt like he was watching an old family movie as his mother tossed her Molotov cocktail up and down. The flame flickered, making the malicious zeal in her eyes glitter. She wore black tactical pants, a torn up red and black shirt with a circled and slashed A, a black bandana to conceal half her face, and—

           When she launched her Molotov cocktail, everything became too real.

           Pax wanted to say, Nice throw, since he’d forgotten his mother was a goddess and lobbing a bottle of alcohol was as easy as tossing rice at a wedding, though that probably was what she tossed at weddings. The bottle went clean over half the strawberry field, far beyond where Percy was cursing Eris at his throne of Saturnalia.

           The glass shattered.

           Michael Kahale went up in flames.

           There were more screams.

           He dropped to the ground, rolling, tearing at his armor.

           Two other soldiers dropped beside him. One went to rip Michael’s armor off, the other frantically shoved dirt onto him.

           Watching the fire and screaming centurion, Pax clutched Frank’s stick to his chest. He felt like the stupid thing could burst into flames by sheer peer pressure.

           A laugh with the same giggling mania as the Joker’s filled the battlefield along with the flick of a match.

           Eris jumped up and down in excitement as she tossed another bottle from hand to hand. “Terror Muffin! Come paint with me! I’ll bet I can make my masterpiece more vibrant than yours!”

           Pax, stupidly, went to shout a warning, like Michael Kahale and the others might be confused or capable of defending themselves from the whole “flaming bombs” thing.

           As he opened his mouth, something much louder made an inhuman wail about ten feet behind him.

           There was a crunch of metal and bone.

           At the same time, the Silver-Tongued helm attached to his waist shrieked.

           One of our brethren is in danger!

           Really, Pax wanted to ask the helm why it didn’t open up more often. He was offended by the lack of weekly coffee chats—Axel’s helm talked to Axel all the time--but now wasn’t the time.

           The shriek left him confused, with a lovely punched-by-a-minotaur-in-the-stomach sense of dread.

           One horrifying thing at a time.

           When he looked up to see the Molotov cocktail’s destruction, a blinding flash of light arched over the demigods.

           The bottle hit something, exploded along the arch, and burned out, leaving the split second image of a brilliant, mini rainbow.

           As the beams of colors faded, Pax could see Butch, the giant child of Iris, scowling hatefully in their direction. His arms were raised, one with a mister bottle, the other with a flashlight.

           Rainbows were some powerful shit.

           Pax wanted to slowly back up, put his hands in his pockets, and walk away whistling.

           But he had to stop his mother from withdrawing a grenade from her utility belt.

           He needed to chastise her: utility belts were definitely something that shouldn’t be used by evil. Only comic book heroes.

           “Mom! Stop!” Pax cried. The shock faded enough for Pax to sprint towards her.

           Her grenade didn’t even have a pin in it. From what he could see, it was held together by a hair band.

           As she slipped the hair band back onto her wrist and cranked her arm for the throw, Pax slapped her hand.

           The grenade tumbled out of her grip. While in mid-air, he kicked it as hard as he could towards Farm Road.

           In the last few moments, he tackled his mother away—

           An explosion popped his ears. Dirt sprayed his back.

           Before the dust had settled, his mother was already squirming to shove him off. Pax wished he could hug the homicidal out of her and have them all go on a nice, non-violent family picnic after this, whatever was left of his family. Merry wouldn’t hurt Hiro, but he’d watched Jason kill someone Pax loved before. He hoped Lapis and Axel were okay.

           “My Little Terror Muffin, what’s the matter?” she cooed, digging her talon-like nails into his recently-fractured shoulder. “The Greeks and Romans massacred all your friends and hunted you into hiding. This is the perfect opportunity for you to have a little fun. Don’t you want to honor your friends and let Momma have a nice Bring Your Son to Work Day?”

           Pax whined in pain. He fumbled to withdraw a dart from his belt with his hand with functional tendons. He feared he didn’t have the dexterity with the other. Pax didn’t know if his darts would knock out a goddess, or if he had any Morpheus dust left to do the trick.

           His belt wasn’t there.

           Axel had shredded it and Pax left the remains in the Hermes cabin. All he had was Frank’s stick and the Silver-Tongued Snake helm on a rope around his waist, because he feared the Hermes little ones would play with it.

           Pax wanted to cheerily brush his mother’s comment off. Instead, his mouth worked on its own. “Stop pretending all the messed up stuff you and Dad do is for me!” he snarled.

           Pax meeped when his mother lifted him up like he was a small child. When she stood, they were several feet higher off the ground than they should have been. She was feeding off the chaos around them, growing. He trembled to think she’d be more powerful with each second of this battle.

           But, Pax realized, he was her son. It ran in the family.

           Although he felt small and baby-panda-like, Pax could discern the delirious sensation coursing through his limbs, like it had during the pandemonium when the Heroes of Olympus collided with the Traitors from Mount Othrys.

           The feeling normally made him nauseous. Normally, he wished desperately he could get a high off a party, like Merry, or off two people in love, like Calex, or a song, like Kally.

           This time, Pax didn’t try to stop the tugging in his stomach. An uncomfortable acceptance settled over him, putting him at ease with the surrounding screams and mayhem: Greeks and Romans were going to die during this battle, he and his brother were never going to be the same after what Ares and Aphrodite did to them, his family was in tatters and needed major therapy, everyone in this camp would die if he, Kally, Alabaster, and a handful of fighters didn’t level up, and if he kept pretending his family was a pack of misunderstood puppies.

           Axel or Jack or someone else always came to the rescue. If Pax could let go, maybe if he stopped acting like a baby panda, he could protect other baby pandas still in Camp Half-Blood.

           “Terror Muffin, I only want you to experience life and glee as fully as I do,” Eris cooed. She was about to toss him, he could feel her winding up. But Pax was the Silver-Tongued Snake, the former spymaster from Kronos’ army, and known for weaseling his way out of everything. “What is that silly saying they have? Be the change you want to see in the world? I’m setting a good example for someone I love.”

           She nuzzled the top of his head with her chin. Her body tensed for the throw.

           In a motion Hunnie, Baller, and Nietz would have been proud of, he latched onto his mother, digging his functional fingers into the skin above her kidney and chomping down hard with his teeth.

           Eris lost her grip on Pax.

           He thrashed and squirmed his way out, springing off her to land on his feet.

           Pax stood a foot taller than the highest field light, his breath was ragged, and a hysterical laugh spilled from his lips. “I am not a baby panda!” he cried triumphantly.

           Eris touched her back, her fingers returning with golden ichor smearing them. “Terror Muffin?” she asked, her serial killer grin one of amusement.

           “Sorry. Internal monologue. It’s a main character thing,” he said. “Now, for the reprise. You and Dad always say you do this stuff because you love me.” Pax doned the Silver-Tongued Snake helm, feeling the warm enhancement of strength slither through him. He cracked his neck and withdrew Frank’s stick like it was one of his daggers. “If this is love, I don’t want to be loved!”

           Pax really hoped this battle would be over soon, else he wasted a kick-ass line.

           Eris’ wide, excited gaze turned adoring. “Your tricks won’t work on me, Terror Muffin. There’s no one you can turn into that would make me stop. You can’t puppet me the way you did the little Valdez. We have the same powers. You’re my son.”

           “I’m not just your son. And I’m not letting you, or anyone else from our family hurt these baby pandas,” Pax said. He wished he would have pickpocketed her lighter off her, but he hadn’t felt one when he weaseled away. Instead, he focused on Frank’s stick, hoping it was as easily influenced as he thought. He also hoped this thing had a “slow burn” option or an alarm that would flash with, Destruction of Canadian: Imminent.

           The tip burst into flames.

           Pax bit his tongue, whining at the blood dribbling out—how did Axel do this every time without complaining?--and said the incantation he’d only ever successfully recited during the battle for Mount Othrys, something he’d heard Frasco do before he died. “Xma’su’tal Xib, Liik’il Ch’iich’!”[2]

           Pax spit his blood into the flames. The red glow flared a brilliant turquoise. Pain flared as he felt his limbs elongate and his bones alter. What he was excited to say, and had rehearsed a few times in his head, was, “I’ll show you why you don’t mess with a Mayan warrior-prince!” but what came out was more of a, “Aye! Aye! OW! How does Axel do this all the time?!”

Sorry for some of the bravado, I’ll admit, I’ve been watching WAY too much anime recently.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D

Footnotes:

[1] As Mel pointed out, excellent start to a joke, “A huntress, a Greek, and a Roman were standing guard…”

[2] “Abandon the man, ascend the eagle/bird.”

[bebaexoexo]

Shit Oh Sehun did in 2017

-Mistook Jeonghan (svt) for Johnny (nct)

-Movie date with suho

-Slayed at the gaon chart award show with a solo dance

-Paris vacation/date with suho

-Got called best dressed man at a Louis Vuiton catwalk and then proceeded to spend the next day walking around Paris with a hood, baseball cap and a cowboy hat on his head all at one time

-Revealed his bed time snuggle routine with Suho, no shame attached

-Was supposed to debut as an Actor Oh in February, but didn’t…

-Was supposed to debut as an Actor Oh in March, but didn’t…

-Got an award for being himself (popularity award)

-Was supposed to debut as an Actor Oh in April, but didn’t…(NoT EvEn a FRackin TraIleR)

-Waved to a tablet instead of the camera, tried to play it cool by continuing to do so

-Posted about his big chilli… 0.0

-Got 15 points on a drawing game while everyone else got over 100 (he drew love hearts and wrote ‘I’m sorry’ for everything and still couldn’t accept being last)

-Howled because of sour pickles

-Members accuse him of being the prime suspect when food goes missing in the fridge, he agrees

-Used binoculars the wrong way round and couldn’t understand why he couldn’t see (Suho to the rescue and an embarrassed osh as a result)

-Gets driven around by big brother chanyeol

-CAN SING (might as well be in exo’s vocal line)

-Biyak Biyak 4 lyfe

-Rubbed his head on a random guy’s stomach (who looks like he’s his sugar daddy)

-Made suho sad because he didn’t go to a premier with him, but went to a festival with Chanyeol and guy whose stomach he rubbed his head on

-Danced (????) at said music festival. By dance I mean chicken fingers at the crowd wtf @ exo’s main dancer

-Can ya tell iv given up on the debut of Actor Oh

-Graced his instagram with such artistic pictures of rice, spoons and cereal

-Only one ft BoA returns

-KING OF SPOILERS sehun the cereal rice (kokobop) poster

-KING OF SPOILERS PT2 dancing the dance with kai can you all please stop this isn’t good for me

-Comments ‘is this exo’s official account?’ On exo’s official account

-“What did you do in preperation for this album?” “Loyalty”

-Passionately talked about eel reproduction

-“Favorite fruit?” “Water with ice”

-Gave flowers to the members because he’s their cute baby omfh (it was a punishment but same thing)

-*gives Kai a rose* “it fits you, you’re sexy and dark red suits you”

-Baekhyun confirms Sehuns big DIACK

-“Sehun has absolutely no interest I’m women. How do I know? Sehunnie said he has no interest in women”- Baekhyun

-Bragged about a really good noodle place, took 30+ people to eat and payed for them- but the food was disappointing

-“Say something to the EXO-L for their birthday” *sehun claps*

SUPER ELLE

-*brags about his dog at every chance he gets, literal protective father to vivi* “I am a cat person”

-EXOTOURAGRAM AKA SEHO AND FRIENDS

-“We’ve been roommates for 6 years I want to cross the line”

-Producer Oh

-“I��ve arrived!” \(-°o°-)/

-Date in NYC with suho (ft the third wheel JD)

-Pulls out chair for suho

-“Its enough just to film me, suho’ s voice in the background is fine”

-Couldn’t believe that a waitress in NYC can’t speak Korean

-Theatre date with suho (ft the late third wheel JD)

-Kicks suho out of their room

-SBS power fm- more like 2 hours of sehun whinning and crying from embarrassment while suho laughs

-“I really like chocolate milk. I think it’s love”

-“Sehunnie is upset~ upset~ really really upset… huhuu” AEGAO KING WHAY

-“I’ve been having a hard time too. At times like this, we should all embrace each other. There’s something I always tell the members and that is to to ‘hug/embrace (me)’. Let’s cheer each other on, got it everyone? Cheer up always and yea, that’s it” and this is why we love our baby

-Sehun irl- “I love all my hyungs to the moon and back #se-rang-hai-yo” Sehun in manwha- “who cares”

-LA date with suho

-DING DONG

-“Let’s goo” \(^o^!)__

-Just sehun trying to control his face while riding the drift car

-King of being HOT, calm and panicking at the same time when their car stalled

-Also Oh Sehun driving someone hold me

-Heart-shaped sweatpatch on his back

-“Excuse me… sir… ketchup ketchup yahh… thank you”

-“The hardest time isn’t when we have a lot of schedule but when the members have different opinions (argue). It saddens me a lot”

-Me me da

-Fan- “do sehun and i have something in common?” Sehun- “we’re human”

-Las Vegas date with suho

-Volunteers suho to go sky diving first like the little shit he is

-Wears a dress shirt and leather shoes to sky diving

-Acts like he isnt shitting himself on the zipwire

-Shamelessly wore nothing underneath an easily unzip-able hoodie

-MC Oh

-“Who is the scariest hyung?” “All of them”

-Tries to prank suho by putting a sticker on him, fails misrebly and then loses the sticker

-White suit blue shirt

-Chanyeol saying Sehuns voice is so good he wants to produce him PLEs

-Teary eyed sehun as eXO WIN RHE PRIME MINISFERS AWARD WWKBDUDBDJ

-Hello councellor MC’s @ seho “stop touching eachother are you guys coming out right now?”

-Sehun @ LVTN

-Gets customised bags from LVTN

-Sehun @ Moncler (also makes the CEO come out just to take pictures with him we love a powerful man)

-Peace signs in his pockets when hes told not to do it

-Doesnt follow seungri back on insta because aesthetics

-Omfg okay elyxion antics begins here

-SHIRTLESS SEHUN IMDG THAT BOY JUST THREW OFF THAT JACKETS WTF I JUST GOT OUT OF WORK AND THATS THE FIRST THING I SEE ON INSTA WTF OMG MY HEART I DONT EVEN KNOW WHATS GOING ON YET BUT I SAW FOKKIN RIPPED SEHUN AND SHIT THATS JISTVTJE LIFE OMG THIS IS GONNA BE LIT

-Wrote and co produced his solo In At thE CONCERT COZ WE LOVE A TALENTED KING

-Lovingly strokes suhos face during touch it

-Comforts kai, upset because he made a mistske in his solo, during cmb

-Danced to ka-ching with CBX

-Suho “after our concert ended at midnight yesterday, sehun and i went back to our door and boiled 20 eggs. 2 adult men peeled them seriously and ate 10 eggs”

-Kisses baekhyuns neck

-Eats pizza at the concert after holding back for months, members happy give us one last chance at seeing THE ABS

-Went crazy and got chanyeol too drunk on his birthday

-Fansites “please dont crop our watermark we work really hard for these pictures” Sehun ;)

-Cute instalive of him just trying on the filters and telling us not to be stressed and play

-SEHUN IN DEAR HAPPINES OMG GREY SEHUN IS DA BESTZ IN A THIN WHITE SHIRT OMG

-“OK!! goo” *pouts*

-“Hey dog, look at me~”

-“Cheese many manyyy”

-*is just standing there posing* Photographer “youre cute”

-Didnt know it was just him, kai and baekhyun in the lightsaber mv

-“Sehunnie makes the most delicious soju” byun baekhyun

-LEON KOREA

-Makes a personal training room in their dorm that can barely fit his own ass

-Supports suho at his musical despite both going through a tough time

-Struggles with the rudolph hat

-SINGING IN UNIVERSE YES DAS MA BETCH

-Subtly strokes suhos face on a national award show

-Make chanyeol kneel whenever he wants something from him. We love our king

-Curly haired solo on mbc gayo

-A beautiful family picture from Oh Sehun to end 2017

——–

Cr. Lerandomexotic

I had a lot of fun making this, just thought i needed to record sehuns never ending loveble antics etc

Feel free to add whatever else i missed

Hopefully he’ll just keep getting crazier next year too, and exo themselves will grow to be greatet and stronger

Like, reblog & excel

[cha0ticmimzy]

Chapter IV: Work

Author’s Notes: A little reprieve, and a peek into Propmto’s personal life. Plus, a small shock, and a connection is made. Word Count: 2391 Warnings: None for this chapter. Rating: Teen for this chapter.

“We live in an age where everything is staged.”-Jon Bellion, Woke The F*ck Up

“So, listen…” Dino began, making Prompto freeze and look down at his keyboard, suddenly overwhelm with guilt. “Look, I ain’t mad at ya or anythin’, but… I gotta know, did ya manage to get any pictures? I know you were all cooped up in a hospital room an’ all but…” Dino trailed off, leaning his hip against Prompto’s desk. Dino wasn’t a really imposing man, not really, but he could be unnerving when he wanted to be. Especially with how light his eyes were. They were almost unearthly, if he were being honest.

Oh, right. Photographs.

“Yeah! Yeah, I got some- hang on…” Pushing his glasses up his nose, he quickly turned his attention to his computer, pulling up the file with a nervous grin. He hadn’t even had the time to look through the photographs yet, let alone retouch any of them. In fact, ever since his accidental meeting with Regis and then being threatened by Gladiolus, all he’d done was sleep. Then again, considering how he had still been healing, that wasn’t very shocking.

“Lemme just…” Tongue poking out from between his lips, he double clicked and brought up the first picture of the cars arriving before the Citadel. The next was a close-up shot of the bodyguard whose name he knew now to be Nyx Ulric- actually, the next few shots were of him. He could hear Dino whistling softly in surprise behind him, making him sit up straighter, pride swelling up within his chest. “Told ya I’d get them,” he teased, looking up at his boss as the next picture came up, this one of Sylva, Lunafreya, Ravus, and his fiancée, Aurora. “The girl’s name is Aurora; family’s upper class Tenebraen, fiancée to Ravus Nox Fleuret.”

“Ya did good, kid. I’m impressed. Go in and retouch some of ‘em, and then send t’me.” Dino praised with a grin, reaching down to ruffle Prompto’s hair before leaving Prompto’s office, pulling his phone out. Prompto leaned back in his chair, a bright grin on his face as he nodded to himself.

“Hell yes I did good. There ain’t a better photographer in Insomnia than me!” He whispered, doing a little dance in his chair before accidentally pushing his chair back, prompting a squeak to escape him as he spun quickly. “NONONONO- Aw, man. I just got those magazines organized!” He whined, watching as the pile fell to the floor.

“Aurora’s her name. Didn’t get much else outta him, but I’ve got pictures. That is, if you got money…”

“Don’t you worry, you’ll get your money. As soon as I have those pictures…”

“Right, right. Whattya want wit’ him anyways? He ain’t no one, not that I can tell. Family ain’t rich and he ain’t a looker…”

“Don’t worry yourself with what I want. You just send those images along to me, pet.”

“Yessir.” Dino sighed, ending the call with a frown as he pocketed his phone. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking over his shoulder at the blond. Oh, well. It wasn’t his problem. Not now, anyways. Maybe later. Maybe not. He’d decide when he got his money.

“So, then I sort of… Fumbled my words? And it was just- they were so intense, Cindy! So. Fricken. Intense.” Prompto whined, collapsing down onto the red leather couch beside the mechanic, who let out a soft laugh.

“Well, whaddya expect? They ain’t your run of the mill folk, now.” She replied with a shrug as she reached over, grabbing a container of fried rice. “But I’on want you t’go near ‘em anymore, y’hear? Vamps and shifters- they ain’t good news, Prom.” Sighing, she shrugged, reaching over Prompto’s leg to grab hold of a separate container containing lamb in black pepper sauce. “I’m jus’ tryin’ ta look out for you, you know that.”

“I know, I know…” Prompto muttered, grabbing a container of Chow Fun and dumping the contents of his own General Tsao’s Chicken and ginger beef into, quickly mixing the contents together. “But- Cindy, you wouldn’t believe the way these guys look! Like, ho my god. Noctis’ eyes are so… Pretty? And the girl- Aurora- was so nice and gentle! She even petted my head, Cindy!” He whined, leaning over to all but rest majority of his weight on the blond.

“Buddy, I ain’t gonna argue with you. They are very pretty, even I can’t deny that. But I still want you t’be careful.” Sighing, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his temple, making Prompto freeze up, cheeks flushing as he quickly sat up and reached for the remote. “Oh, oh! My favorite show is on! Amber’s Anatomy!” She squealed, hunkering down into the couch with a bright grin. “I wanna know if Amber White is gonna go with McDreary or if she gonna leave him behind!”

“I have no idea what you just said but okay,” Prompto shrugged, stuffing his face with noodles and chicken and beef, groaning at the taste. Gods above, he loved takeout more than anything. Though, Galahdian takeout was far better, he’d settle for classic Insomnian. “Okay, so who’s who?”

“Okay, so, Amber is the lead character, righ’? And she’s a doctor who gets all tangled up in a messy love triangle with Doctor Terrier and this other lady, and her mother was a doctor, too! And then there’s…”

He’d ended up crashing on Cindy’s couch, Cindy falling asleep in the recliner, the sounds of Amber’s Anatomy in the background. By the time morning came, Cindy was already in the shower singing along to some old country song, and Prompto was left to throw out all their trash from the night before. They’d fallen asleep before they could manage to save any of the takeout, sadly.

Humming, he went to work cleaning, picking up the boxes and tossing them into the trash bag. The sound of the bathroom door opening made him look up, only to catch Cindy shuffling out in a bright blue, fuzzy robe, her hair hanging in damp ringlets around her face. Wow, she looked like an angel…

“Aw, shuga! You don’ gotta go an’ clean up all this by yourself!” Cindy cooed, a grin spreading across her lips as she leaned against the bathroom door. “But it is most definitely a welcome gesture.” Yawning, she made her way over to her bedroom the door falling shut behind her. “I can whip us up some grub after I get dressed!” She hollered, making Prompto pause, box of rice almost tipping over.

“Sure, sounds great!” He yelled back, going back to his job of lifting the trash bag out of the trash and tying it closed. Lifting it up with a grunt, he walked over to the trash chute and let it fall down before turning and leaning against the wall with a yawn. Normally, he’d go for a run now, but the promise of Cindy’s cooking kept him here. A skip day wouldn’t hurt, right? Right. At least, that was his reasoning.

“Now, what’re we feelin’ this mornin’? Personally, I wanna scarf down some omlettes…”

Breakfast done, kitchen cleaned, Prompto was about to head out when a knock on the door made him pause. “C’n ya get that?” Cindy called from her bedroom. “I would but I got half a face of makeup on and I don’ wanna scare no ones!” Snorting, the blond rolled his eyes and set his bag down, walking over to the front door. He looked through the peephole, only to be greeted with the sight of a red and black sweater. And a rather… Ample. Chest. Coughing, he quickly unlatched the lock and swung the door open, cornflower blue hues widening at the sight.

“Is Cindy home?” The woman asked, jade hues sizing him up. Prompto suddenly felt incredibly small compared to this woman- her piercing gaze, the silver hair that was tied up in a high pony tail, the menacing motorcycle boots… “Hey, kid. If Cindy isn’t home, just tell me instead of staring at me like you’ve never seen a woman before.”

Startling, Prompto quickly took a step back. “Ye-yeah, she’s in her room…” He trailed off, watching as the woman stepped past him with a smirk, throwing a wink in his direction. Squeaking in a rather unmanly way, he quickly shut the door and watched her poke her head into Cindy’s bedroom, prompting a squeal of delight.

“Aranea! I didn’t know you’d be in today!” Cindy exclaimed, and threw her arms around Aranea’s shoulders. Oh. Oh. So this was Cindy’s girlfriend- the motorcycle girl. The one who worked as a battlefield photographer. The one that Prompto may or may not have been extremely jealous over when he first found out that Cindy wasn’t interested in men at all. “Prompto, c’mere! I wan’ ya t’meet Aranea!” Cindy yelled, and without realizing it, he was moving towards the pair.

“Aranea, meet Prompto! He’s my buddy- I’ve known him for over six years now!” Cindy introduced with a grin, winking at Prompto. “Prompto, meet Aranea. Y’know we’ve been dating for over a year now- the light of my life.” She flushed, leaning into Aranea. “I’ve been wantin’ y’all to meet for a while now! But with Aranea’s crazy schedulin’ and yer crazy schedulin’… At least y’all getta meet now!”

Prompto shifted, flashing a small smile before holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you!” He managed to get out before Aranea took hold of his hand in a strong grip.

“Like wise.” She replied in a smooth voice that sent chills across his skin. Something seemed… Familiar about her. He couldn’t place it, though. Oh, well. It wasn’t important. “Anyway, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by to see my favorite girl.” She explained, leaning over to peck Cindy’s cheek.

Clearing his throat, Prompto rubbed the back of his head and began backing away. “I’ll just leave you guys alone…” With that, he quickly grabbed his bag and quickly left the apartment, the sound of Cindy hollering ‘bye’ echoing in the hallway. He couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity from his conscience- that woman, Aranea… He knew he had seen her before. Her voice, her eyes… They were so familiar.

Maybe he was just imagining things. Maybe he’d seen her in a crowd once, or maybe at a party. Yeah, that was it.

… Hopefully.

­­­­­­­­­­­The rest of his day was uneventful, what with it being Saturday and all, he hadn’t needed to go into work. Though, he could have spent it going through all the pictures he’d taken before the accident, but… Nah. Instead, he’d gone out and treated himself to a sushi dinner, making sure to stop by the market on the way home to pick up food for breakfast (and some spare fish for the cats at the apartment complex).

Being home now, with Insolo curled up against him, was comforting. To be surrounded with familiarity. He was warm, and comfortable, and his bed was comfortable and the rain hitting against the glass of his window was perfect…

He fell asleep.

Or, at least, he thought he was asleep. But he was… Outside? And there was snow on the ground, and all around him. This wasn’t the park- or, well, anywhere he was familiar with. At least, not personally. Was this Niflheim? The layout looked the same form the pictures he’d seen in high school. But he wasn’t cold- shouldn’t he be cold? It was snowy, the wind was blowing- he could hear it howling.

Wait…

That wasn’t the wind.

Spinning around, he came face to face with a large black wolf, eyes as black as it’s fur. He tried to scream, but no noise came out. No noise, even as the light began to fade and the wolf began to lurk closer and closer. He fell to his knees, ready to accept his fate when a new sound ripped through the air. A cry. A baby’s cry. He pushed himself up, spinning around, looking for the wolf but not finding him. Brows furrowing, he turned, and stilled. Two babies, swaddled up, were left on a large flat stone.

He walked closer to them, snow crunching beneath his feet, a hand outstretched. But something wasn’t right- they weren’t moving. They weren’t making any noise. It wasn’t right. When he reached them, he leaned closer, and quickly moved back, eyes widening in surprise. They were babies, yes- but their throats were… Their throats were ripped out. Blood stained their blankets, and the stone around them. A growl sounded over his shoulder, making him turn. “You were never supposed to leave.” The jaws came down, closing around his throat-

Prompto jolted awake, sitting up in bed with the remnants of a yell leaving his lips. He quickly slipped from his head and ran to the bathroom, doubling over the toilet to dry heave. His heart was pounding in his chest- was he having a heart attack? Or just an anxiety attack? He didn’t know, he didn’t care. But it hurt.

Pushing up from the toilet, he stepped over to the sink and ran the tap cold, cupping the water in his hands and splashing his face with it. Looking up at his reflection, he startled, surprised at the… Lilac? Hues that stared back at him. Blinking, he leaned forward, only to see that his eyes were back to their normal blue…

Shaking his head, he shuffled back to his bed, calling Insolo back to cuddle. Maybe he was just… Sleep deprived. Yeah. That would make sense- people started to hallucinate when they were sleep deprived! That’s what was wrong.

“It’s him. I’m certain of it.” The woman spoke into the phone quietly, black coat pulled tight around her, cloaking her in the shadows. “Blond hair, blue eyes, freckles… What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. Do nothing. Raise no suspicion. We got what we wanted.” The voice replied, sounding relieved and stressed at the same time. The woman nodded and ended the call, slipping her phone back into a pocket in her coat.

“Come back to bed,” the voice of her lover called, pulling her back into the apartment with a smile curling her lips, jade hues dancing in amusement.

[kairi-chan]

Functions and Feelings (IV) - BoruSara

Chapter 4: Cover Up

Characters/Pairings: BoruSara

Rating: T

Genre: Romance and Humor

Summary: Boruto wins a bet with Sarada to let him be her personal body guard during the Five Kage Summit to be held in Sunagakure. The functions they attend help them both to slowly realize their true feelings for each other.

This is also a sequel to my one shot Perfect Balance. You don’t need to read it in order to fully understand the story, however reading it will give you a good start to understand the context.

Chapter 1: The Bet

Chapter 2: Transit

Chapter 3: Balconies

Chapter 5: Stage Fright

Chapter 6: Escort I

Sarada stood in front of the mirror. She smiled at her reflection and twisted from side to side. She wore a sleeveless red qipao dress that ended a few inches above her knee with a simple black obi that accentuated her slim waist. She wore her hitai-ate on her forehead, as usual. Gingerly, she picked up the dark blue cape that laid on her bed.

It was made with a luxurious yet sturdy material that subtly shone in the light. The silhouette of the cape was similar to her father's, with the cut ending a few inches above her knees. It was trimmed with silver flames. At the front right breast was a silver Konoha Leaf symbol while the Uchiha insignia stood proudly at the back. She relished the feeling of the cloth in her hands before she wrapped it around her shoulders and clasped it securely.

She gazed at her reflection again, remembering how Naruto looked when she put it on. That was the night he told her how proud he was of her.

"I couldn't have asked for a better successor."

The happiness of being acknowledged by her hero made her forget everything that happened on the balcony the night before. She was filled with determination to power through her day and represent her village.

She picked up a slip of paper from her desk and read through it again. The first thing on her schedule was breakfast with the Kazekage and his family in their home. It was a last minute addition, as Naruto had just told her about it last night.

Her next activity would be to attend a forum on Ninja Tool Innovations. A workshop would follow shortly after. After the workshop, she had some free time before she was scheduled to have lunch with Kagura to tackle the current state of the Leaf and Mist's political relationship. Kagura was set to take the role of Mizukage the following year. Sarada was genuinely happy for him, he had come so far.

The last activity for her day would happen later in the afternoon. She bit her lip as she read the title: Ninja Academy for the Modern Day's Youth. Iruka Umino was going to discuss the new curriculum that the other Nations would implement in the coming semester. Naruto was supposed to give warm and encouraging words after, but he delegated the role to Sarada. She had been mentally preparing herself for this for weeks. She was nervous, but still determined to do her best.

She looked at her clock. It read seven-forty. She put on her knee length ninja boots and walked out of her room. Boruto was already waiting for her, leaning on the wall adjacent to her door. His hands were stuffed inside his pockets. She was quite surprised to see him wearing the jonin uniform.

"Good morning," Sarada greeted him. "The jonin look fits you well."

He smirked as he laid his blue eyes on her. "You're looking easy on the eyes, too."

She felt her cheeks flush at the compliment, but ultimately just felt happy he had acknowledged her. The excitement she held earlier upon seeing herself in the mirror came flooding back to her. She grinned and thanked him sincerely. They both walked to Gaara's residence in comfortable silence.

After Boruto had dropped her off the front door, he left to find himself breakfast. He entered a small convenience store and bought himself some rice balls and a can of soda. He jumped up to a tree next to Gaara's house to enjoy his food. He could see Sarada's back from the open window.

The blond felt a presence near him. "Inojin?"

His friend flickered in front of him on the branch. "Guard duty sucks, doesn't it?" Inojin removed his mask, sat down, and stretched his arms above his head. "I've been up all night."

Boruto smiled as he gazed into the window. "It's not that bad. We've been through worse," he replied. He brought the can of soda to his lips to take a sip.

Inojin laughed. "Sure. It's fun for you because you're in love with the person you're guarding."

Boruto spat his drink out and crushed the can, causing the soda to spill all over his hand. "NONSENSE!" he yelled angrily. "Why do you always have to tease me with her? Sarada and I are friends. That's all."

"Friends?" Inojin repeated incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous! If you're just friends, then what was that last night in the balcony?" He grinned slyly.

Boruto felt the heat creep up to the top of his ears. "Huh?" He tried to appear unaffected, keeping his expression as neutral as he could. "We were just talking."

Inojin raised his eyebrow and leaned in to Boruto's face until he was only six inches away. Boruto jerked back, but the tree trunk held him in place. He let out a strangled yelp. "You mean to tell me you talk to your friends with only this much space between your faces? I didn't know we were strangers to each other." Inojin smirked.

Boruto's face was turning crimson. Change tactics. He pushed Inojin's face away and said a little too harshly, "it nothing, okay? Drop it." It was starting to bug him thinking that his friend may have a point.

Inojin sighed and stood up. He placed his mask back on. "I don't want to be nosy like Chubs here, but the longer you hide your feelings, the harder you'll fall."

Boruto glared at his friend. "You just don't know when to shut up, do you?"

Inojin smiled behind his mask, unfazed by his snide remark. He took one of Boruto's rice balls before he flickered out of sight.

Boruto sat there for a moment, digesting what Inojin had told him. Muttering under his breath, "since when was that bastard a love expert?" He shook his head and peeked inside the window. He saw Sarada's side profile. She was laughing at something funny Naruto said.

His heart skipped and he felt his stomach twist. He looked away immediately and grit his teeth.

I am not in love with her. He denied it fiercely, and repeated it over and over in his head. He felt his blood boil.

"I am not in love with her!"

He let out a loud expletive. He wanted to destroy something to get the anger out of his system. Boruto gathered his trash and jumped off the tree to find some time to think.

Sarada looked out of the window and spotted a tree. The sun was out, and the clouds were big and fluffy. The wind blew, and the branches and leaves swayed.

She had a bad feeling about today.

After breakfast, Naruto headed to the Kage Tower with Gaara while Sarada and Boruto made their way to the venue for the Ninja Tools Innovations talk. She also took note to get a video copy for her Aunt Tenten. She was about to ask Boruto if he could do her this favor, but Sarada noticed he wasn't walking next to her. Instead, he was walking two strides ahead, and one step to the right. She raised her brow. He was following the correct standard operation procedure placement for escorting.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked him.

Boruto was being uncharacteristically quiet. His curled fists were stuffed inside his pockets. He didn't look back when he replied, "what? My position is correct."

Sarada crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Exactly." She picked up her pace and fell in step with Boruto. She tried to look at his face, but he avoided her by walking faster. He resumed their earlier position.

Sarada stopped walking and stared at his back. He continued to walk on. She shook her head and ran after him. Sarada was still behind him when she asked, "Boruto, what's wrong?" Her voice was neutral, but her eyes shone with concern.

He clenched his jaw and walked a little faster again, placing distance between them once again. "It's nothing." His voice was low and passive. "We should hurry; you're going to be late."

His dismissive behaviour stung her. Did I do something wrong? Sarada decided to drop it and muddled her brain for anything that could have bothered him while she was having breakfast. Maybe he's just tired of waiting around and wants to feel a bit more involved.

Once they reached the building, Boruto cut some of the distance between the two of them and changed his escort position. He was now one stride behind her, and one step to her left. He didn't like this escort placement mostly because he could see her. The sight of her long dark hair and slender figure sent shockwaves through him. The crowd was getting thicker, forcing them to move closer to each other. It was so much harder for him to concentrate now that he would get whiffs of her scent, and her hand sometimes brushed on his arm. He couldn't shake off what Inojin said, or how he felt the night before. Something had changed and he couldn't pinpoint what. It was annoying him to no end.

Boruto was relieved when they finally reached her designated seat. He was about to turn heel and stand at the back with the other bodyguards, but he was stopped when Sarada held on to his sleeve. He stopped mid-step and gave her a questioning look.

She smiled. "Sit next to me?"

He clenched his fists. He did not want to sit next to her for an hour. He was sure her proximity will only agitate him further. "No thanks," he replied. "I'll stay at the back with the others."

Her grip on his sleeve tightened infinitesimally."Please? You can guard me right here." She patted the seat to her right with her free hand. She gave him a toothy grin.

Boruto bit his lower lip and looked away. A light pink tinted his cheeks. He hated it whenever she pulled this smile on him. He could never refuse her once she flashed him that smile. He sighed. "Fine."

They sat together in silence while waiting for the speaker to get up on the stage. There were still some people arriving, slowly filling the hall. The seat in front of Sarada remained empty. Boruto was thankful Sarada started talking to the girl on her left. It gave him more time to think. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and scanned the area, reviewing the quickest escape routes to keep himself busy.

The speaker climbed up on the stage. The girl and Sarada quieted down. She pulled out a small notepad and a pen. As the speaker was introducing himself, a big guy took the vacant seat in front of Sarada, completely obstructing her view.

The speaker was now beginning his keynote presentation. Slowly, Sarada leaned to her right a little more and scooted closer to her right to see the speaker and the screen.

Boruto froze when he felt Sarada's head on his shoulder. He stopped breathing, too. Slowly, he could feel his body temperature rise. He looked at her, only to realize that she was leaning because her view had been blocked. She was staring straight ahead at the speaker and taking notes. He debated with himself for five minutes if he should just allow her to lean on him like this, or if he should just leave so she could take his seat. He decided he could let her lean on him. What's the harm in it, right?

After a few minutes, Boruto realized this was a bad idea. He could smell her hair, and feel her warmth seep through his clothes. It sent electrifying ripples from his chest to his entire being. His heart rate was flying. He couldn't concentrate on anything except for how well her head fit on his chest, and how nice it felt to have her close to him. Boruto could barely contain, and couldn't comprehend all of the sensations and emotions he was feeling. It was pushing him to the edge. Gently, he nudged Sarada off him and stood up.

"Where are you going?" she whispered.

"Out," was his curt response. "I need some air." He instantly regretted his harsh delivery when he saw her bite her lower lip. "I'll be back."

The talk was over, and he hadn't come back yet. Sarada was really starting to worry what was going on with Boruto. She checked the time and scowled. If she didn't leave now, she would be late for her workshop. She left her seat and made her way to the upper floor of the building.

She was grouped with a number of students who were studying for higher education. Their task was to create a program for small towns throughout the nation that were in need of healthcare. It was an interesting topic for Sarada and she enjoyed listening to the students' brainstorming, but she still couldn't shake off Boruto's odd behavior. Tentatively, she scanned the crowd for that familiar shock of blonde hair. No luck.

"Tch." She clenched her fists.

The boy sitting next to her noticed her agitation. "Sarada-san? Is there something wrong?"

Sarada put on the best smile she could muster. "Ah, it's nothing." She adjusted her cape on her shoulders, successfully covering most of her body, as she looked at the plans the team had created. "Oh, this looks like it could work."

The two of them walked in silence to the restaurant. Boruto stayed a few paces ahead, and didn't bother looking back at his teammate. The air between them was heavy, and tense. Sarada's face was passive, but her mind was in chaos. As they approached the restaurant, she peeked through the glass window and spotted Kagura already sitting inside.

"Have lunch with us, Boruto. I'm sure Kagura would like to catch up."

"No thanks," he replied. "I'll grab something to eat elsewhere."

Sarada held on to his sleeve and offered a weak smile. "Please?"

Boruto pulled his arm away. "I'm fine, Uchiha."

Sarada's smile melted away. Her eyes widened as she stepped back, as if Boruto had struck her. "Uchiha?" she repeated slowly.

He turned and walked away. "I'll pick you up in an hour."

As she made her way into the restaurant, her eyes were downcast. However, upon seeing Kagura's cheery smile, Sarada couldn't help but smile, too.

"Sarada-sama!" He stood to greet her.

The formal honorific made her jump, even if he did use it on her first name. It pulled back the memory that Boruto had just done the same-if not worse-as he only used her last name. Before the hurt could rear its ugly head yet again, she remembered this wasn't Boruto. This was Kagura. Adding formal suffixes to her name was something he liked to tease her with.

She forced out a laugh, trying to project a light demeanor. "Would you cut that out? How long are you going to drag that on?" She sat down and made herself comfortable, forcibly shoving the earlier encounter with her teammate down. She would think about him later.

Kagura laughed and held his hands up in front of him. "Okay, okay. Can I call you Sarada-chan, then?"

She nodded. "We have been friends for a while now. How have you been, Kagura-kun?"

The two of them talked, and exchanged a few updates regarding the current events in their respective villages. Their conversation sounded like two old friends catching up on life, rather than growing dignitaries, as they spoke of their villages in far less urgent tones. After they have finished their food, Kagura ordered some mochi for them to enjoy.

"How are you and Boruto-kun? Are you two planning on settling down soon?" It was an innocent enough question. "Was that him with you earlier? I couldn't see properly."

Sarada forked her mochi a little too hard. "We were never together."

The sudden change of mood made Kagura sit up straight. He stuttered as he spoke, "a-ah, is that so? Oh, sorry… it's just that…"

Sarada lifted her gaze from her mochi to Kagura, unintentionally glaring.

He coughed to relieve his anxiety. "Sorry, Sarada-chan. Word travels fast around our town, you know? You two are really popular, with all the missions you guys do. You two are pegged as an amazing tag-team. And I heard from Iwabe-kun that you two have been spending a lot of time together lately…" he trailed off.

Sarada closed her eyes and sighed. "Sorry to disappoint. We're just friends."

He laughed nervously. "I see. Well, it's a shame. I think you two look good together."

Thinking about everything he had said, the young Uchiha sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. She contemplated how the world mistook their friendship as something more. She thought it was just something their friends liked to tease them about, but if people in other villages started to think this way, then what does it imply about them? Sarada's brows furrowed as she continued to chew out her thoughts. She looked troubled.

Sensing her discomfort, Kagura spoke up. "Is there something wrong?"

She mumbled, "I don't know." She looked at Kagura, weighing if she could talk to him. Thinking that their friendship had progressed far enough that she could trust him, she allowed herself to continue. "Boruto's been acting kind of weird. He's upset, and I don't even know what I did wrong. He's been avoiding me."

He blinked a few times before he spoke with a sympathetic smile on his face, "have you tried asking him?"

She huffed, "Boruto's evasive when it comes to talking about feelings."

"Boruto or you?" He teased.

"Kagura-kuuun!" she whined. Maybe talking to him wasn't such a good idea.

He laughed. "Sorry, Sarada-chan. As much as I know that you two know each other best, I think it still helps to say what's troubling you out loud and talk things through."

Sarada kept replaying her conversation with Kagura in her head. Usually, she and Boruto would just exchange a look and they would already reach an understanding. However, things were a little different this time. There was something that was bothering the two of them, and she had to figure out what it was. She did not like having to dance around him. She never had to do that. The two of them were always so in sync, but something was ruining it—lodging between the two of them. Slowly pulling them apart. She shook her head from side to side. She would never let that happen.

She just wanted things to go back to the way they were.

She stared at his back with sad eyes as they both walked to the venue. This was her last activity for the day—the activity she dreaded the most. Sarada knew she could not move on to accomplish this task unless she and Boruto worked out whatever was coming between them. Clenching her fists, she dared to speak up.

"Boruto."

"What is it?" He didn't bother to look back. He kept on walking. When he didn't hear her reply, he slowly turned his head to look back over his shoulder. Her small hand came up to grab the scruff of his collar. His blue eyes widened in surprise. Sarada was dragging him into an alley, away from all the foot traffic. "Hey! What gives?"

She pushed him against the wall. Sarada was furious, but the hurt was all too clear in her eyes. "Look at me when I'm talking to you."

Boruto placed a hand over her fist. He leveled his gaze to hers. His eyebrows furrowed together.

Slowly, Sarada let go of his collar and she took a step back. Her voice was shaky, "I-I'm sorry."

He was dumbfounded. "Wh-what? Why are you apologizing?"

"I don't know what I did wrong, but whatever it was, I'm sorry." Her voice was clear, and strong. "If you can't forgive me right now, I'll understand but please, let's put our differences aside."

She bit her lower lip and looked away. It pained her to put her pride down like this and admit her weakness. But this was Boruto, and she was doing this for the village. Her Uchiha pride be damned. "I want your support, Boruto. I don't want you to hate me. If you won't do it for me, at least do it for the village! So, please—"

She stopped mid sentence. She had lost her words when he pulled her into a tight hug.

His voice was low. "Idiot. I don't hate you." She could feel his breath on her ear and neck. It sent tingles down her body. "I could never hate you, Sarada."

Her heart felt like it was going to burst. A load was lifted off of her, and she could breathe again. Sarada wrapped her arms around his middle and allowed her tears to fall. "You're the idiot! Calling me 'Uchiha' and avoiding me out of nowhere."

He let out a low chuckle. "No way. You're the idiot for apologizing for something you knew nothing about. Besides," he pulled away a bit to look at her and smirk. "I'll do you this favor," he said the word as if he placed air quotes around it. "Because you finally admitted that this is what you want, rather than covering it up as something for the village." He rolled his eyes but gave her a sincere smile.

Sarada's breath caught in her throat and her dark eyes grew wide with her realization. A wide grin slowly filled her face. She pulled him closer and rested her head on the crook of his neck. Their bodies fit so well together, like two puzzle pieces.

Earlier, she had felt so lost—as if she was groping in the dark. Earlier, she was in a crowd full of people, yet she felt so lonely. Now, she was confident that things were going to be better. Confident because she had found her foot hold. She knew her place and where she stood.

In that moment, Sarada knew that this was exactly where she belonged.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I know it’s long, and I wasn’t able to update as fast as I wanted to. That’s because I was endlessly obsessing over this chapter, and wanting it to be perfect for weeks. Big thank you to my beta readers, @levadia and Poodie for tolerating my endless anxiety for this chapter.

You can read more of my stories in my fanfic master post or ff.net account.

[caticorn61]

Sticky Notes- Part I

Synopsis: When your father is transferred to South Korea he decides it’s time for you to break out of your shell. But what do you do when your roommate doesn’t speak English?!

Genre: Chanyeol, Fluff!

Word count: 2357

A/N: I REALLY hope you guys enjoy this, ive never written a fic before and I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while and i wanna thank @shesdreamingfics for the inspiration, motivation and support (and hella good editing) with this. Please send in your feedback!

The elevator doors slid open and I shoved the last of my luggage inside. I fidgeted with my newly made apartment key and bit my lip as a sad attempt to occupy my mind. I hated this, everything about this, and I hated my father for leaving me no choice. I don’t know who told him that forcing his only child to move out was a good idea, especially to a country she had never even been to.

“This will be good for you! You need to get outside of your comfort zone. I think this is a great way for you to do that.” He would say every time I tried to protest. Of course it wouldn’t be as bad if I actually spoke the language or knew the area, but no. My dad got transferred to South Korea, and he decided that now would be the perfect time for me to spread my wings. Him and his big ideas. I sighed and threw my head back. I hadn’t even met my roommate yet. With any luck he would avoid me or just never show up, but if I ever had any luck at all, it was long gone. According to my dad he’s the son of a fellow member of the military. He’s a composer I guess, and performs often.

The elevator came to halt and I walked out, counting the room numbers as I went. I looked at the tag that was attached with my key, and beside some korean letters was the number 24. I assumed that was it and stuck the key into the lock, took a deep breath and unlocked. Here goes nothing.

Before I could even turn the knob, the door swung open and in front of me was the lankiest kid I’d ever seen. He looked beyond shocked to see me, which made me seriously doubt I was even on the right floor.

“Park Chanyeol?” I asked, the boy nodded, his brown bangs sweeping over his brow. “I guess you’re my new roommate.”

Chanyeol shuffled awkwardly and stuffed one hand into his hoodie. He blinked at me in confusion and said something in Korean. Don’t tell me he doesn’t know English. Dad swore on his life most Koreans knew enough to get by.

I wiped my palms on my jeans. I could feel my heart beat faster. I felt my body tense up in a wave, starting from my neck and crawling it’s way down my back. I couldn’t have put into words how much i wanted to run and curl up in bed instead of actually following through with this insane plan.

I introduced myself as I held up my key and dangled it in front of him. His eyes widened and he took it. He smiled in a way that seemed to take up his whole face and started spewing off fast Korean and looked at me to see if I understood.I shook my head. His smile dimmed and he stepped aside, inviting me in. I smiled shyly And shuffled past him. He walked in front of me and gestured for me to follow. It was a fairly small apartment; the kitchen was the first room we walked into immediately after entering, and it opened to the living room. It was a small but comfortable place. He led me into a spare room, lightly decorated, with some random boxes scattered about and a bathroom in the back. I set my stuff onto the bed and nodded to him. He asked something in korean and I stared at him. I hoped he couldn’t tell how scared I was.

“Roommate, yes?” He asked in English and a slight wave of relief rolled over me. It wasn’t anything significant but I’ll take what I can get.

“Yes.” I nodded with a smile.

“Korean?” He said, presumably asking if I spoke any of his language. I shook my head slowly and I could see the frustration and confusion set in. We stood there for a little bit, neither of us really knowing where to begin. How were we supposed to live together if we couldn’t even say hello?!

Chanyeol moved first, bowing his head and leaving me to my own. As soon as he was out my sight I flopped onto my bed and felt tears sting my eyes. I was out of my comfort zone, that’s for sure.

I woke up suddenly. For a minute I thought I was in a dream, I didn’t even remember falling asleep. I was still in the same clothes from yesterday, hell my bags were still on the bed. Jet lag had done a number on me.

I rubbed my face and glanced at the clock. Noon already huh? Jesus. I slid out of bed and treaded quietly out into the main area. To the left of my room was an office, which Chanyeol apparently turned into a form of studio/hangout area. Straight ahead was the kitchen and living area, which led to the balcony. For a single guy he kept the place pretty tidy, and stylish if I do say so myself.

I wandered forward and walked into what I assumed was his room. Random posters of singers donned his walls. A piano sat in the corner next to his computer. On his desk sat a massive soundboard and pages upon pages of sheet music, and I vaguely wondered if he had written it himself. I looked around his desk and scattered about were little sticky notes. Little notes and reminders scribbled on them, they even donned his walls here and there.

My thoughts were interrupted by my stomach growling. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Thankfully dad had given me a starting fund to settle in with. I didn’t know how much it was in won but he assured me it would be more than enough.

The closest convenience store was a few blocks from my complex. As I walked nearly every sign was illegible to me, aside from the occasional English sentence or word. A lot of people stared at me and I felt so exposed. I shouldn’t be surprised, most people around me are all the same, and I’m sure my presence just screamed foreigner. If my darting eyes and nervous demeanor didn’t give me away then I️ don’t know what would. I️ felt naked and exposed to everything. Every sense I️ had was in fight or flight.

The store was small and run down but it would do. My stomach growled as I looked at all of the snacks and microwave dinners. I recognized some of the snacks they sell back home and grabbed a few of them. I lingered around, and I could feel the cashier's eyes on me. I grabbed a microwave dinner and stared at it, pretending I knew what was written on the label. I prayed the old lady would find something to do instead of watching my every move. Eventually I just shoved a few packages into my basket and sat it into the counter. I took my money and flipped it through my fingers. The cashier glanced at me with amusement, and told me my total. She pointed to the screen. 20,000 won. I looked at the money in my hand and counted out what j thought was the right amount. The cashier chuckled and shook her head, she took the stack instill held and recounted it. She gave me my change and patted my hands. “Have a good day.” She said with a chuckle. I walked out and felt relieved to be out.

I stopped in my tracks. Which way did I come from? I felt my heart skip a beat. I grabbed my phone from my jacket pocket and hit the home button but the screen stayed black. Dead. I tried my best not to cry. Everything looked the same, no landmarks or signs that would point me in the right direction. I couldn’t ask for help even if I knew how to. The thought of it made my stomach twist and anxiety spread throughout my body.

I pick a direction and walk as fast as my legs can carry me. My shoulders brushing past those of strangers as I muttered a breathless apology and tucked my arms in closely to me. I ran smack into a tall man with a mask over his face and his ballcap pulled low, causing me to drop my bag. I apologized over and over even though i wasn’t even sure he could understand me. I quickly picked up my bag and ran on.

I slammed the door to my apartment shut, thanking whatever god there may be that i actually managed to find my way. I threw my bags onto the counter top and rubbed my eyes to try and clear away my panic attack. Tears stung my eyes and my breathing shook quietly and i was silently thankful Chanyeol wasn’t home. The last thing i need is his concern and attention. How the hell am i supposed to explain that walking outside pushed me over the edge? Especially when neither of us can communicate on a normal day anyhow.

A deep sigh escaped my lips. My appetite had came back full swing with a loud, obnoxious, growl. I forgot that was why i left in the first place. I stuck my hand in the bag and grabbed the first thing i found. The little image on the container had what i assumed were rice cakes in some red sauce. I spun it around and read the back which to my surprise, had English on it. I followed the directions, microwaved my lunch and peaked around the kitchen for wherever he kept his silverware. I picked up a pair of metal chopsticks, i wasn’t the best with them but they would do.

I plopped onto the couch right as Chanyeol walked in. He smiled at me as he pulled his mask down. His face scrunched up in amusement as he watched me struggle to pick up the small morsel of food. I felt my cheeks flush softly. What’s he starin at? I avoided his gaze and aggressively stabbed my food, causing him to chuckle at me. I’ll show him, cocky ass thinks I can’t use chopsticks.

I shoved the small cake into my mouth and stared at him while i chewed. He looked at me expectantly, as if i was either supposed to die because his country had the best food I’d ever had grace my taste buds or that it was the worst thing I’d ever had. I chewed confidently, not reacting, and then it hit me all at once. Hot! Holy fuck that’s hot. I started choking and I saw his expression change to worry as he rushed to the fridge. As I fanned my mouth he handed me a glass of milk. i chugged it all in one gulp, which did only so much to kill the fire in my mouth. All of a sudden he bursted out laughing, hell he was doubled over. I don’t know why he found my near death experience so amusing but sat the dish on the small table in front of me and stood up.

Chanyeol looked at me, his smiled wide as he chuckled deeply. He muttered something and went to his pantry, shuffled through it and tossed me a small package. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes and for the first time i really looked at him. He was pretty tall, he easily towered over me but at the same time i felt comfortable with him. He was easy to be around and had this warm and welcoming prescience. And man was he good looking. He was surprisingly muscular, and he had the brightest brown eyes I’d ever seen. It was almost as if they smiled too. How he was still single was beyond me, although he looked kind of like an elf with how his ears stuck out but even those were endearing. At least my dad got this right.

“머고.” He said, making an eating motion. I carefully unwrapped what looked like a weird rice triangle and took a bite. I sighed, no spice, extreme surprise that makes me what to cut my tongue off. I swallowed and honestly nothing had felt as satisfying.

“Thank you.” I said. I’m not sure if he understood me but he smiled sweetly and tossed another to me. He gave me the sign to eat again and left into his room.

I practically devoured both of whatever they were and managed to finally get a charge to my phone. My father had left a few messages asking how I was, but i decided to spare him the happenings of my day. After all, I’d get the same response as always. “This will build character.” he always said.

It was about midnight when i decided to shower. I noticed a light emitting from Chanyeol room, and i peaked through the crack in his door. I watched as he stuck a sticky note onto his wall, the last in a line of a few others. He shoved his notebook aside and slid over to his piano where he silently pressed against its keys, whatever music it made flowed through his headphones. Even though i couldn’t hear it, the rhythm of his movements set the mood of the song all on its own. He was so animated and passionate. I admired him. Forma person i couldn’t use words to communicate with o felt that i knew him more than words would provide. All from that.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. The clock ticked in at 11:27 and i stretched out with a sigh. My stomach growled again and i rolled over. Hoping that the other snacks i bought weren’t as feisty i stepped into the kitchen. Instead of my bag i found a plate that had fresh food on it. Stuck on the edge of the plate was a tiny pink post it note.

“For you. Eat!”