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pirateborn-a · 2 years ago

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[ VENGEANCE ] { from clown son! Let Roger go apeshit xoxo -indomiitas }

INJURY MEMES. — @indomiitas

✧. Thunderstorms rolled overhead, covering the sky in a dark gray and sending rain pelting down onto the deck like drums, tandem in song with the growing waves crashing against the sides of the Oro Jackson that sent her swaying in her anchored spot upon the shore.

Men scrambled around him, securing loose objects and running to get their weapons. Each of them careful to provide him with ample space, well aware of how their captain was during his fouler moods.

Roger would have thanked him, had he the mind to pay any notice to it from where he was, leaning off of the ship with his hand loosely wrapped around a rope. His visage was stoic upon his face, reflecting the storm around them. Body coiled with tension as time continued to slip by, he continued to stare at the unchanging scene before him, beach leading to green forest, stone fortress peeking from above the treeline in the distance, faintly able to make out the symbols of the Marines upon flying flags.

For the thousandth time in the last few minutes, he regretted allowing his crew to talk him out of running guns blazing. Each second that passed was another second where—

Hazy but familiar silhouette finally emerged from the trees and at once Roger moved, jumping off the Oro Jackson with the sea pushing him towards the shore as he ran to meet Gaban, staring expectantly as his hands fidgeted with his blade by his side.

“ They have him, ” Gaban replied through gritted teeth the moment they were close enough. His shades were on, but Roger knew with confidence that his third in command held a glare furious enough to rival his own, “ Bastards know we’re coming. They’re taking him out to the courtyard, but we’ve confirmed the shackles aren’t explosive. ”

Tension loosened slightly in his chest, though quickly returned with burning wildfire. Shackles. They’d still shackled his boy.

Faux calm adorned his face, mind made. Though his eyes must have let his thoughts slip by, if the way Gaban straightened his spine indicated things. He turned his gaze behind them towards their approaching crew, tilting his head up.

“ Donquino, Mugren, ” his voice raised enough to cut through the storm, “ Would explosives work in this weather ? ”

Booming laughter answered him, Murgen chuckling still as he replied, “ Aye! It’ll be a pain, but we can make it work. Sure would be hell of a lot easier if Mother Nature didn’t seem to favor your moods so, capt’n. ”

That drew a genuine smile from him, sunny disposition returning for a moment with a cheeky grin and laugh, “ Sorry, sorry. But it’s hardly my fault that the sea loves us so ! ”

Smile remained upon his face, yet tension was far from gone. If it weren’t for the way his crew jokes, he might forget that they were unable to hear what he did. The Sea was raging in his head, her Voice screeching with rage, fueling the scorching embers in his chest and leaving him unable to find the lines which separated her voice from his own.

Both of them screaming to be let loose, to go and claim back what was theirs through whatever means necessary.

“ Gaban, go lead the others, ” he tossed his hat at the other man, glancing in the direction of the Marine base, his smile twitching, “ I’d like that stain on the horizon gone before we leave. Give that to Shanks and tell Rayleigh I went on ahead if you run into them, would you? ”

“ Rayleigh’s not going to be happy about that, captain, ” Gaban said with warning in his tone, sighing as Roger merely flashed him another grin.

If there were further complaints, he didn’t stick around to hear them, bolting into the forest and further inland, weaving between trees before impatience got the better of him. With a flick of his wrists, he drew his blade and swung down, cutting down a direct path towards stone walls. Some navy men were patrolling the outskirts, but he’d hardly noticed them or the way they collapsed the moment he approached. His mind was focused on a single task, the burning in his veins growing with each step.

The wall had never stood a chance.

Roger stepped over broken stone, Ace loosely held as he walked more calmly into the courtyard. Startled group of marines on the other side staring at him in shock, some yelling at each other and sending some into the buildings behind them.

None of that mattered to him, his eyes focused solely on the young boy with blue hair, hands bound behind his back, roughly yanked to the side of the marine wearing a coat. The leader of the place, a Commodore — whatever that meant — if Roger remembered correctly. Smile still calm on his face, he lowered Ace, tilting his head to the side.

“ You know, it’s odd. I seem to recall you folks having agreed to let us sail by, ” he said cordially, holding off his rage, “ Truly, I would recommend letting go of my boy. I might even be inclined to leave some of you alive if you do. ”

“ Captain — ! ”

Whatever Buggy had to say was cut off, sword hilt slammed hard on top of his head, sending him crumpling onto the ground and in that split second, Haki crashed down upon the courtyard like thunder, drowning all with a strangled vengeance and sending the Commodore to the ground.

He moved without thought, feet barely touching the ground before he on top of the Marine who dared to hurt his boy within a second, snarling as he shoved the bastard away — he’d throw him seas away from Buggy if he could — and drove Ace through his shoulders, embedding him against the wall.

Whatever words the man had to say, Roger cared not. He’d deal with the bastard later, for the time being, he ran back towards where his boy had fallen.

“ Buggy ? ” he asked in a quiet tone, but the boy was out cold. Holding his face — he was so young — Roger noticed wordlessly the trickle of blood falling from blue hair, the rain not quite able to hide it.

Shouting neared them, reinforcements, and Roger draped his coat over his boy, standing up with a steadying breath.

“ I’ll be right back, my boy. Don’t you worry, ” reassurance given with a warm grin, snapping to fury he turned towards the approaching navy men, no longer able to keep still the storm within him.

The following world was nothing but a blur, an anger and haki filled haze tinting the world in red as he tore through each man he encountered or lunged for. None of it could quell the wildfire in his chest. How could they ? How dare they ?

Did they not understand how terrible it was to be alone ? To have nothing and no one but yourself ? Did they not know how damnably miserable it felt ? How painful ?

Or, at least — his hand breaking cartilage and bone with each blow, ripping the throat out of some bastard’s next before moving onto the next in ceaseless downpour of bloodlust — did they not understand how it infuriated him that they would even think about casting such a horrid fate onto one of his own ?

Roger might not have had the boy for considerably long, not as long as some other in his crew perhaps. But they had found him alone, drifting upon the vast seas, their paths crossing at that moment in an act divine and so Buggy was theirs. Buggy was his.

( The Sea had wept for them that day, and she wept for them now. Roger would damn himself before he wasted her holy tears. )

The sight of his boy collapsing, of blood trickling down blue hair, continued to burn in his vision. Driving each attack he gave, thoughts of grabbing a weapon void in his mind when all he could think about was making them pay.

Let them feel his wrath. Let them see it. Let the world learn that they had claimed the boy as theirs, and let them learn how fiercely he would guard his own.

It might have been seconds, or it might have been hours since he’d struck the first man, he couldn’t tell, nor found point in attempting to do so. Standing tall, he towered above his carnage, littered bodies carelessly strewn about. Some still breathing, some surviving, with many more less fortunate. His fury still burned brightly under his skin, but he paid no more attention towards the sailors, walking with resolute steps to where he’d left his blade, left impaled within the Marine Commodore who’d been responsible.

Roger looked down at the poor excuse of a man with a vicious grin, blood dripping off his hands with the rain and down, staining the marine’s white coat red.

The Commodore was already dying. That much was obvious, if disappointing. His first attack with Ace had done enough damage to secure that fate, but let it be testament to the bastard’s stubbornness that he still clung onto his breath, glaring daggers up at Roger.

Such a shame it was that very pride which got him and his men killed.

Grabbing the hilt of his blade, Roger tugged it upwards, forcing the man to stand against the wall and startling a gasp of pain out of him.

“ There is no fate I could bestow to you that could possibly make up for your transgressions, ” laughter falling out with his words before shaking his head with a tsk, “ Not only have you taken advantage of my initial mercy, ” stomping against the man’s leg hard for emphasis, grin returning filled with teeth.

“ You hurt my crew. ”

Explosions went off from the building behind them, dragging their eyes upwards. Pleased, Roger watched as smoke billowed out, fighting against the rain. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the entire base was razed to the ground, his crew were delightfully efficient in that manner.

But, head turning back down towards the bastard, there would be time enough for him to finish his business.

“ For each hair on my boy’s head, I ought to strike you twice more. Finish off the deed at last by leaving you to rot at the bottom of the sea. At least becoming a feast for the fist could serve as means of redemption, ” with every word, he slowly dragged Ace further up, cutting through tendons and bones until he finally drew screams from the Commodore. Smile twitching in satisfaction at the sound, letting them linger like that for a moment longer before, reluctantly, a sigh fell out.

“ I suppose I’ll have to content myself with this. ”

He yanked his blade out, kicking the man onto the ground before slamming his foot down onto the Commodore’s chest, feeling ribs give way beneath him like twigs, vindication finally easing the fury within him. Though maelstroms refused to dispel, continuing to lie in wait beneath the surface, begging to drown any who gambled their fates around him.

“ A coward and a fool, ” he spat, wiping the blood off the soles of his shoes on the dead man’s coat before finally turning away, letting the growing explosions take care of the last of the source of his rage. There were better things to focus on now.

With each step, his expression softened, the storm calming within him and around him as rain trickled to a halt, until he finally reached where he’d left his boy beneath his coat.

“ Hey, Buggy, ” he murmured, voice gentle as he knelt down, gingerly wrapping him up in the coat before carrying him, holding him close to his chest, “ Let’s get you out of here, hm ? ”

He was so terribly small in Roger’s arms. Barely weighing a thing. How could someone be so small? How could someone be willing to hurt someone so small ? He felt ready to turn around and tear apart the Marine base all over again, but — with some difficulty — he kept himself focused on getting Buggy back to the Oro Jackson.

“ I’ll tell you what, whatever treasure we’ve managed to loot from this place, we’ll give you the largest share, eh ? ” his voice cheerful and bright, keeping his mind off the lingering anger, “ I’ll be honest, if I had it my way, both you and Shanks would get larger share when it comes to dividing whatever bounties we’ve gathered. But even though I’m captain, our treasurer’s word is final. I’m certain that I can convince them for this occasion though. ”

There was a pause in the cacophony, before a final explosion roared and was quickly followed by the sound of stone falling, startling nearby wildlife in droves. Roger laughed, he’d have to compliment the crew once they were reunited, but he followed the path of birds and elk back towards the shore, holding Buggy close to his chest, his hands wrapped protectively around his boy.

“ You’ll always have me, so just stay with me, alright ? ” murmured reassurances, quiet promises, “ You’re going to be okay. Captain’s got you. I’ll always be right here, Buggy. I’ll always have you. ”

#[ ic. ] ✧〖 eternally challenging the sea 〗#[ v. golden days ] ✧〖 rays of sunshine 〗#indomiitas #violence cw #[ finally gets this out of drafts after. months fdsklds #[ being a lil silly with this one with squints 2.1k of silly time (gratuitous violence)#[ head in hands lisa indulging me with asks always... beloved....#[ your honor i hold them always and forever.....#[ i simply care they

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ochoislas · 2 years ago

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LO QUE DICE EL BRACERO SIEMPRE ESTÁ FUERA DE LUGAR

Un invierno todo ramas duro como un cadáver un hombre sobre un banco de calle sin gentío rebosante de soledad sitio a la banal pompa de la desesperanza a su azogue de plomo a sus baños de guijas a sus estatuas estantías sitio al olvido del bien a la verdad recordada a jirones luz negra antiguo incendio a cabellos perdidos en un dédalo un hombre que marró el piso la puerta la llave por entender mejor y por amar mejor

Dónde empieza el paisaje y a qué hora y la mujer entonces dónde acaba se posa en la ciudad la tarde busca en la cama al paseante paseante desnudo menos glotón de pecho virgen que de la estrella amorfa que la noche ceba

Hay derribos más tristes que una perra chica inenarrables y con todo el sol los elude cantando mientras el cielo baila obrando su miel hay muros yermos con su flor de idilio donde el revoque se descose arrulla sombras confusas fuego tenaz fuego de venas bajo onda única de labios tomad las manos ved los ojos acometed la vista tras los palacios tras las escombreras tras los humeros y los aljibes frente al hombre sobre el ejido que despliega un capote de polvo rastro de fiebre hete la invasión de los días buenos un plantío de espadas azules bajo pálpebra abierta en multitud de frondas es la grave cosecha del placer la flor de lino rompe las caretas los rostros son lavados por el color que sabe la extensión

Los claros días del pasado sus leones en banda águilas de agua pura su tormenta de orgullo hinchiendo las horas con sangre de albas en cadena de un cabo a otro del cielo su encrespada diadema sobre el bulto de un solo espejo de un solo corazón

Pero mas hondo ahora en la profunda red de anuladas derrotas tal canto sostiene la noche tal canto que se finge sordo ciego que ofrece el brazo a los fantasmas tal amor renegón que relucha en las congojas con lágrimas bien empapadas tal sueño desgarrado menesteroso avieso irrisorio esta armonía en barbecho esta horda que mendiga

porque no deseó más que el oro toda su vida intacta y la perfección del amor.

CE QUE DIT L'HOMME DE PEINE EST TOUJOURS HORS DE PROPOS

Un hiver tout en branches et dur comme un cadavre Un homme sur un banc dans une rue qui fuit la foule Et que la solitude comble Place à l'appareil banal du désespoir A ses miroirs de plomb A ses bains de cailloux A ses statues croupissantes Place à l'oubli du bien Aux souvenirs en loques de la vérité Lumière noire vieil incendie Aux cheveux perdus dans un labyrinthe Un homme qui s'est trompé d'étage de porte de clé Pour mieux connaître pour mieux aimer

Où commence le paysage A quelle heure Où donc se termine la femme Le soir se pose sur la ville Le soir rejoint le promeneur dans son lit Le promeneur nu Moins gourmand d'un sein vierge Que de l'étoile informe qui nourrit la nuit

Il y a des démolitions plus tristes qu'un sou Indescriptibles et pourtant le soleil s'en évade en chantant Pendant que le ciel danse et fait son miel Il y a des murs déserts où l'idylle fleurit Où le plâtre qui se découd Berce des ombres confondues Un feu rebelle un feu de veines Sous la vague unique des lèvres Prenez les mains voyez les yeux Prenez d'assaut la vue Derrière les palais derrière les décombres Derrière les cheminées et les citernes Devant l'homme Sur l'esplanade qui déroule un manteau de poussière Traîne de fièvre C'est l'invasion des beaux jours Une plantation d'épées bleues Sous des paupières écloses dans la foule des feuilles C'est la récolte grave du plaisir La fleur de lin brise les masques Les visages sont lavés Par la couleur qui connaît l'étendue

Les jours clairs du passé Leurs lions en barre et leurs aigles d'eau pure Leur tonnerre d'orgueil gonflant les heures Du sang des aubes enchaînées Tout au travers du ciel Leur diadème crispé sur la masse d'un seul miroir D'un seul cœur

Mais plus bas maintenant profondément parmi les routes abolies Ce chant qui tient la nuit Ce chant qui fait le sourd l'aveugle Qui donne le bras à des fantômes Cet amour négateur Qui se débat dans les soucis Avec des larmes bien trempées Ce rêve déchiré désemparé tordu ridicule Cette harmonie en friche Cette peuplade qui mendie

Parce qu'elle n'a voulu que de l'or Toute sa vie intacte Et la perfection de l'amour.

Paul Éluard

di-versión©ochoislas

#Paul Éluard #literatura francesa #poesía surrealista #desesperanza #malogro #sueño #ideal #di-versiones©ochoislas

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summer-vibes-com · 4 months ago

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Écran solaire visage Instituto Español GOTITAS DE ORO 80 ml

Vous aimeriez afficher une jolie peau toute bronzée sans pour autant renoncer à votre capital santé ? Écran solaire visage Instituto Español GOTITAS DE ORO 80 ml est ce qu’il vous faut ! Découvrez tous les bienfaits de nos crèmes solaires Instituto Español et de tous nos autres produits solaires et autobronzants de marque 100 % authentiques. Genre: Unisexe Ingrédients: Tocopheryl acetate Water…

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fred-the-curator · 6 months ago

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Futuristiq Sound System 005 w/ Werenoi Angelo Outlaw Ralf Gum Konkolo Orchestra YG Marley Hamza and more

Futuristiq Sound System 005 w/ Werenoi, Angelo Outlaw, Ralf Gum, Konkolo Orchestra, YG Marley, Hamza and more Bienvenue dans le monde du "Futuristiq Sound System 005", une odyssée sonore que j'ai méticuleusement assemblée pour les âmes éprises de diversité et de richesse musicale. Composé de 27 morceaux et s'étendant sur 81 minutes de pur plaisir auditif, ce mix est le fruit de longues heures de recherche sur SoundCloud, où j'ai exploré des trésors cachés pour vous offrir une expérience unique et variée. Du Rap français à l'afro fusion, en passant par la house, le reggae ou le UK Garage, chaque track est une fenêtre ouverte sur l'immense créativité des artistes du globe. Dès l'ouverture avec "Maudit" par Werenoi et Hamza, le ton est donné : un voyage à travers des grooves captivants et des textes percutants. La transition se fait ensuite vers des sonorités plus électroniques et mondiales, comme le montre "The Recipe" par Aluna et Rema, un morceau où l'afro blend de LBXX & DN fait des merveilles. Chaque transition est pensée pour être douce et fluide, guidant l'auditeur à travers un spectre émotionnel riche et varié. Blue Method avec "Get You (Blue Edit)" apporte une touche soulful, tandis que Angelo Outlaw nous invite à libérer nos esprits avec "Free My Mind". Chaque artiste contribue à ce paysage sonore avec sa propre couleur, créant une tapestry riche et vibrante. Parmi les highlights, ne manquez pas les remixes innovants qui ajoutent une dimension supplémentaire aux morceaux originaux. Remi Oz transforme "Move Your Body" de Nina Sky en un hymne dancefloor irrésistible, tandis que Kaidi Tatham donne une nouvelle vie à "Too Much" de Amanda Whiting avec des touches jazz sophistiquées. Les contributions de Ralf Gum, avec son mix vocal de "AWA", et de Jengi, qui revisite "Shook Ones, Pt. II" de Mobb Deep, montrent l'étendue de la transformation possible à travers le remixing, enrichissant l'expérience auditive tout en respectant l'essence des originaux. Ce mix est aussi l'occasion de mettre en lumière des talents émergents comme YG Marley, qui avec "Praise Jah In The Moonlight" et sa version remixée, nous plonge dans un reggae moderne et contemplatif. "Futuristiq Sound System 005" n'est pas seulement un mix, c'est une célébration de la musique et de ses innombrables visages. C'est une invitation à explorer, ressentir et découvrir. À travers ce voyage musical, je vous propose de vous joindre à moi dans cette exploration des sons qui façonnent notre monde contemporain et enrichissent notre expérience quotidienne. Chaque écoute est une découverte, chaque morceau une révélation. Bon voyage dans l'univers de "Futuristiq Sound System 005". Fred The Curator · Futuristiq Sound System 005 Werenoi feat. Hamza - Maudit Aluna ft. Rema - The Recipe ( Afro Blend LBXX & DN ) Simen Sez - Love Is Stronger Than Pride (Simen Sez Remix) Blue Method - Get You (Blue Edit) Angelo Outlaw - Free My Mind Bastian Bell - FICA (Bastian Bell AfroBaile) Nina Sky - Move Your Body (Remi Oz Remix) Bob Marley - Jammin' (QURE Disco Flip) Ralf GUM - AWA (Ralf GUM Vocal Mix Edit) DANSO - calling my name Amanda Whiting - Too Much (Kaidi Tatham Remix) Joyce Wrice - Bittersweet goodbyes (ICEE RED X SW8VY EDIT) Konkolo Orchestra - That Good Thing KristianK - Cold Sauce Gustav Gustav - Needed U The Most YG Marley - Praise Jah In The Moonlight YG Marley - Praise Jah (El Sueno Reggae Remix) 808Riot feat. JAKOBI - No Reason Werenoi feat. Damso - Pyramide Mobb Deep - Shook Ones, Pt. II (Jengi Remix) NΔLΔ - Badai Riddim Sean Dream w/ LOELASH - Oro x Special Affair [savvv Blend] Hamza - Free YSL Logic1000 feat. Rochelle Jordan - Promises LUKINU - EN BLUSA (RMX) Tyla - Water (Remi Oz UKG Edit) OSIVE - Don‘t Kill My Vibe (edit) via Blogger https://ift.tt/ZD7kxOf May 04, 2024 at 06:00PM

#IFTTT #Blogger #fred the curator

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backblade · 9 months ago

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@knifvd asked: ۟. ♡ ៶ " good! you're awake. i was beginning to worry… " [ from sage or katarina , your choice ♥ ] !

"Oro?...." the man stirs and straightens his posture. "Sorry. Sorry this one can move-" he starts instinctively. after nearly a decade he had come to learn most people did not appreciate someone sleeping in an alley, on a bench, or even on the bus.

He finally gets a good look at them, a woman with long pink hair who seemed... concerned?

"You do not need to worry. This one was just resting their eyes." he raises a hand and tries to wave away her worry, despite his messy hair, dirty clothing, and skinny frame spelling out the visage of someone who was unhoused.

#hello katrina #modern au

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crimsonfacets · 3 years ago

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This post acts as both an interest check and a tag dump for Pepa Madrigal. Please leave a 🌦️ in the replies (and for multis - muses you're interested in having her interact with), or like this post, if you have interest in interacting with her! Her wiki can be found here.

『 pepa / ic. 』 ❝ you telling this story or am I? ❞

『 pepa / visage. 』 ❝ ¡seguramente se está gestando un estado de ánimo! ❞ // a state of mind is surely brewing!

『 pepa / insp. 』 ❝ ¿caliente o frío? nunca me has visto. ❞ // hot or cold? you have never seen me.

『 pepa / aes. 』 ❝ dame esos cielos claros y brillantes y una ráfaga de relámpagos. ❞ // give me those clear skies and a flurry of lightning.

『 pepa / interests. 』 ❝ un libro una taza de café y una siesta al sol gracias. ❞ // a book, a cup of coffee and a nap in the sun, thank you.

『 pepa / hc. 』 ❝ ojo de la tormenta. ❞ // eye of the storm.

『 pepa / style. 』 ❝ bendecida con rayos de oro y una pizca de Pepa. ❞ // blessed with rays of gold and a pinch of Pepa.

『 pepa / bonds. 』 ❝ la familia Madrigal! ❞ // the family Madrigal!

#tag dump #『 pepa / ic. 』 ❝ you telling this story or am I? ❞#『 pepa / visage. 』 ❝ ¡seguramente se está gestando un estado de ánimo! ❞#『 pepa / insp. 』 ❝ ¿caliente o frío? nunca me has visto. ❞#『 pepa / aes. 』 ❝ dame esos cielos claros y brillantes y una ráfaga de relámpagos. ❞#『 pepa / interests. 』 ❝ un libro una taza de café y una siesta al sol gracias. ❞#『 pepa / hc. 』 ❝ ojo de la tormenta. ❞#『 pepa / style. 』 ❝ bendecida con rayos de oro y una pizca de Pepa. ❞#『 pepa / bonds. 』 ❝ la familia Madrigal! ❞

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thespiral · 2 years ago

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wip wednesday :3

tagged by @henbased. YOU.

tagginggggg. hmm. @wishing4nuclearwinter @fanthings @krokaxe andddd whoever wants. feel free to ignore if youre not feelin it :3

pickin at the last chapter of the lucius fic. slowly.

Lucius just ruffled his hair and nodded. He’s the farthest thing from a hero, but he need not concern Oro with such things. Lucius marked a few routes for their escape, from their “school” to the edge of the town, the alleys and streets would at least help him once things inevitably went to shit, but he could only hope that Caligula was as incompetent as he looked.

Lucius quietly carries Oro back to the barracks, a few of the recruits pretend they’re asleep, looking at the Praetorian as he settles the golden haired child in his bed from their own cots. He could feel their curious eyes on him as he patted the child’s golden locks, before he turned away and left towards his own quarters.

He didn’t sleep right away, instead he knelt on the cold tiles of his matchbox of a room and prayed for luck, for forgiveness, for safety of his charge.

He does not remember the names of his gods before they took the bloody visage of Mars, but he hopes that these pleas are not for nothing. May his bones become the price to pay, if it means the safety of these children from such horrible things.

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hansolmates · 5 years ago

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jeongguk; a royal exchange (02)

feat. the rom-com college!jeongguk x princess!reader au no one asked for

she’s the man!au where the princess impersonates her brother yoongi in order to finish his degree on time while yoongi is thrusted into princely duties. jeongguk is in the mess purely through room arrangement.

notes: p.2 is a straight up roll of pure crack and fluff. lil sexy for like .2 seconds. super self indulgent and inspired by the princess diaries. princess is stressed the whole time and we live to see her suffer

w.c: 7.1k

01, 02

“I’m sure this is probably the hundredth time you’ve heard since you’ve landed, but welcome to Illyria! The palace welcomes you to your new home away from home.”

“Ho-ly,” Jeongguk slaps a hand in front of Taehyung’s offending tongue, in case swearing is forbidden on royal territory. Wouldn’t want their scholarships taken away over Taehyung’s potty mouth.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hoseok, sir?” an exchange student from a university in New Zealand (yet Korean-born, ironically) pipes up, “why does the infrastructure of the building look like that?”

The student is referring to the ravines of gold metal that stream the walls of the palace. While the architecture is classic, the sheen of the metal definitely gives it an air of regality.

“Good question, Namjoon. The castle is wired and designed after our main export, Illyrium. The element was discovered in the early 1850s in what is now the ruins of Oros,” Hoseok quips brightly, patting the stone affectionately. “It has a conductivity percentage of 106% percent, more than silver. It is also quite durable.”

Namjoon’s deep laugh echoes throughout the pavilion, “I was just asking because it makes the castle so beautiful. Thank you.”

Jeongguk takes the time to snap more pictures of the castle, switching between his Sony and his phone. He zooms in on a low balcony overlooking the terrace they landed from. A figure rolls into his shot, stumbling barefoot with a ruby silk robe swishing between steps. You’re tired, sleep-laden as you clutch a snow white mug between your two hands, leaning your elbows against the metal bearing. You’re staring at nothing and everything, glazed over your backyard that seems to stretch on for eons.

“You’re right,” Jeongguk marvels at your visage between his lens, “absolutely beautiful.”

“Can I please get a better assignment, Jimin?”

“Your highness,” Jimin frowns, following after you, “you love teaching the exchange students, what has changed?”

“Exactly, Jimin,” you sigh, stopping in the middle of the hallway. Jimin’s nose nearly bumps into yours, “nothing has changed. I teach students every quarter, the same subjects every time. It’s not to say that I don’t love teaching,” you exhale, blowing into Jimin’s honeycomb bangs, “but can’t I have a more challenging assignment? Conversing with dignitaries, renovating the town square, I’ll even do culinary!”

Your poor secretary squeaks, pushing up his rose gold iPad to carve some distance between you two. “You-you know those jobs aren’t suitable for a Princess,” Jimin cuts himself off once he sees your eyes soften in defeat, “b-but! I’ll see if Hoseok would be willing to take on another class? And maybe we could arrange a presentation to the King in regards to your proposals?”

“Right,” you smile sadly, folding your arms and stretching the tight blazer your mother forced you in, “as if another Google Slideshow will impress him.”

Jimin squeezes your shoulder, as if he could tell you all the things he could never say through body language. “Showtime’s in two minutes, your highness.”

You nod, making haste to the large double doors that lead to the main living room. Normally, the scholarship program’s presentation is done in the throne room, a big show of bravado and an ego booster to your family. However, this particular class is entirely post-grad and under ten students, so you figure they were placed in a more intimate area for the sake of comfort.

Jimin pulls a lint roller out of nowhere, careful to catch every bit of dust that dares meet your presence. You tug uncomfortably at your collar, and give the signal to the door bearer. You fight the urge to flinch at the usual bombastic announcement.

“Introducing, the Princess of Illyria!”

The students and staff are bowing when you enter, and you send a look to Yoongi, who only offers you a lazy smirk. It’s a look you’ve feared since childhood, an explicit tell that he knows something you don’t. Nevertheless, you tack on a smile, standing in front of the ten students who are still dutifully lowered. You have to hand it to them, the undergrads would already be turning heads to get a peek at the princess.

“You may rise,” you voice floats. As mother always said, your voice must replicate a dandelion seed, bouncing in the wind.

The student directly in front of you elevates, a pair of doe eyes taking his sweet time to appreciate the view.

Jeon Jeongguk gives you a lazy smirk, mirroring your brother’s. The smile evaporates from your face, taking in the handsome man that you lived with for two months over two years ago. His eyes have certainly not lost their spark, but his hair is trimmed and showing off his forehead. A Sony camera wraps around his neck, held tightly by a strong pair of hands. He’s even dressed brightly, wearing a navy blazer over a plain white tee and a pair of dark jeans. Something twinges in your heart when you see that a familiar pair of black combat boots remain.

Jeongguk is the first to break eye contact, deciding to at least pretend to care about Hoseok’s presentation on the flatscreen. An overplayed video about Illyria’s history drones on, while Hoseok and Jimin are exchanging schedules in between. You’re sure that Jimin is passing on your word about choosing not to teach this quarter, and now it’s personal.

This urges the students to take seats on the couches, while staff floats around with various pastries and refreshments.

Your family takes their respective seats, and you fight the urge to pinch Yoongi as you hiss, “You knew about this?”

“Surprise,” Yoongi sing-songs, munching on a linzer cookie. “I handpicked all the students.”

“Couldn’t give your sister a heads up?” you snap hotly, making sure no one was looking as you pop a whole cream puff in your mouth.

“Sorry,” Yoongi leans over the shell of your ear, “Your hot ex-roommate is here, just wanted to let you know before you eat the dessert table.”

You mouth a fuck you, taking a stab at him under the table with your heeled foot.

After Yoongi’s not-so-subtle reveal of each other’s identities in a crowded Chinese restaurant two years ago, you’ve since cut off all contact with Jeon Jeongguk as you resumed your life as Princess of Illyria. Simultaneously shocked, but not surprised due to the obvious hints of suspicion, Jeongguk had forgiven your lie and allowed you to leave in good spirits. You remember leaving him at the front door of your dorm, hugging you warmly and bidding you safe travels.

It confused you, because it would've been easier to leave if Jeongguk had gotten angry at the complete breach of trust and kicked you out.

Hoseok is now presenting a slideshow of the intended schedule and itinerary for all students. You’re now glaring at the back of Jeongguk’s head, trying your damn hardest not to shove three brownies in your mouth in the presence of guests. Your tiny dessert spoon picks pathetically at the measly crumbs, and Jimin is urging you to smile from his position opposite you.

“And as always, our lovely princess will be conducting our class on Modern Illyrian Anthropology and will be organizing your field studies!” Hoseok practically shouts across the room, where you’re sitting wide-eyed with your family. You feel Yoongi reach over to dab the crumbs off your lips, enjoying your suffering.

You shoot a look at Jimin who was supposed to take care of things, and he gives you a pained expression that reads don’t fire me.

With a tight-lipped smile and feigning ignorance to Jeongguk’s interest in you teaching, you reply to the expectant students, “It’s always a pleasure to teach, I promise to not bore you with Illyrian history, that’s Hoseok’s job.”

“Hey!” he scrunches his nose, then turns to the students who are hiding their giggles, “Better get on her good side if you want a nice field assignment.” he warns good-naturedly, giving you a mock glare.

You suppose giving Jeongguk a field assignment far, far away from the castle.

After the long-winded presentation and a handful of brochures, the royal family is escorted out to retire for the day. As the youngest in the family you're the last one to leave.

Out the doorway you hear Taehyung utter, "That's her? What a babe!"

As to not arouse suspicion, it takes longer than anticipated to get a private moment with Jeongguk. No one but Taehyung and Jimin know of your circumstances, and it is to remain that way due to the fact that you and Yoongi committed fraud, royal or not.

Jeongguk is a quiet student, surprisingly. Choosing a seat by the window, he spends most of your classes doodling and looking out the pavilion. As stimulating as Namjoon and Irene’s questions are, you’re a little disheartened at the fact that Jeongguk has made little effort to talk to you, even if it’s as impersonal as classwork or office hours.

Today Hoseok’s teaching, and that gives you ample time to work out where you want to assign the students for field study. You’ve shaken off Jimin for now, and you’re currently roaming the halls with your phone, checking off your schedule.

Called the Museum of Modern Illyrian Art for Namjoon … check.

Sent staff to the villa in prep for the kiddies’ weekend getaway … check.

Sent e-vites and physicals to the Genovian royals … next.

Find a quiet corner to stress cry before 2:30—

A hand flies out of nowhere, grabbing your waist roughly and throwing you in a small room. The hand clasped over your mouth swallows your scream as the door shuts tight.

The captor turns on the singular lightbulb, grinning at you like a madman. “Hey Princess—what the fuck!”

You grimace, putting down your switchblade that was dangerously close to Jungkook’s jugular. “What the hell, Jeongguk! I could’ve killed you!”

“Dang, princesses are something else nowadays. Where on your body are you hiding knives?” Jeongguk marvels as if he wasn’t ten seconds away from being dead!Guk, patting down your lavender pantsuit in a way that’s highly inappropriate. “What are you, Ty Lee?”

“Self-defense secret,” and under your breath you add, “and Mai’s the one who hides knives. Ty Lee’s the acrobat.”

The grin easily returns to the tall boy’s face, burnt eyes shining against the naked bulb. This is the most emotion you’ve got out of him since classes started, and it’s doing nothing to ease the butterflies in your stomach. “So, come here often?”

“To the storage closet?” you snort, “not particularly.”

“And where’s a place I can go that you do come often?”

“My office hours,” you deadpan, “in which you haven’t visited, by the way. As a friend and as a teacher, I’m insulted.”

A low whine erupts from his throat, and he leans against the shelves, long arms spread across the three-ply toilet paper. “But your little secretary’s always there. It’s awkward when we’re not alone. I don't know if I should act like a friend or a student. Speaking of, where is he?”

“Ah, Jimin’s getting Starbucks.”

“Lit, can you tell him to pick me up a pink drink?”

“No,” but you send a text to Jimin anyway. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I’m supposed to be coming back from the bathroom,” he air-quotes, “AKA, running around the palace until I can corner you.”

You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your blazer.

“Are you annoyed at me?” and for a second, Jungkook’s eyes betray a hint of vulnerability. “Am I being too forward? Or do you not want to catch up? I don’t know, I figured you’d be excited to see me but you’ve just been so busy.”

“Jeongguk,” you put a hand on his shoulder, ceasing the rambling. He opens his mouth to add more, but you squeeze his bicep. “I’m not annoyed at you. I’m annoyed at the situation. I’ve missed you,” you offer him a shy smile, and he returns a small, hopeful one in return, “but you’re right, it’s been really busy with the usual duties and I’ve been a little on edge with keeping things together without letting any secrets out.”

You’re also confused as to why you’re still harboring feelings for him, but that’s another secret you keep to yourself.

“Well, your duty is doo-dy.” Jungkook huffs, but is placated by your confession. “Don’t worry Princess, I’ll think of something.”

A knock startles the both of you, and Jeongguk squeaks, brandishing a plunger in defense. With a dainty finger, you push the plumbing tool back to the ground, as the knockings did not stop.

“Ohmygod—am I going to be beheaded for kidnapping the Princess?” Jeongguk panics and checks his phone, realizing his bathroom break turned into a straight up game of hooky. “Do you guys still behead? I mean if you’re pulling out knives from who knows where—”

“Guk, relax,” recognizing it immediately as a code between you and your brother, you swing the supply closet open.

Yoongi looks between the two of you, gauging the situation. When he notices that no, you two did not just romp between the 3-ply and were in fact only talking, he huffs. “Losers,” he mutters under his breath, hiding a grin as he leaves you two to splutter.

It’s already well over twenty minutes past your class time, but Taehyung just wouldn’t shut up.

You can’t blame him, he’s thrilled that you managed to snag him a field study with your personal couture designer. He’s lit up like a good boy on Christmas eve, getting his present early. He’s gushing about how excited he is to use authentic Swarovski crystals and rub noses with the fancy fabrics.

“I’ll make you the perfect dress for the upcoming gala, Your Highness.” Taehyung’s vibrating in a manner you never imagined on a human before.

“Thank you,” you reply awkwardly, “I’m sorry, but what gala are you referring to?”

He shrugs, “I’m sure there’s a gala you have to go to sometime. I’ve just always wanted to say that, makes me feel special.”

“Tae,” Jeongguk is sitting on your desk, heels bumping into the mahogany. With a stiff jerk of his head, Tae’s lips morph into an ‘O’ and he finally gets the hint, bowing to you and scurrying off.

“Y’know, his fashion’s kind of eccentric.” he nods over to the excessive fur lining on Taehyung’s slippers, “I’d make sure your designer keeps a close eye on him.”

“And what do I owe the pleasure of your presence,” you click, “twenty minutes after class?”

Jeongguk has the audacity to roll his eyes, rolling his head back to crack out the stiffness. “The chamber choir, really?” he exhales, dropping the itinerary you spent the better half of your nights preparing.

You raise your eyebrows, “What? It pertains to your major.”

“For the past six years all I've done is eat, sleep, and breathe music,” he says, and you’re suddenly reminded that you had a glimpse of that version of Jeongguk two years ago. A slave to the music, as much as he loved the subject, it sometimes felt like a tether that weaved far too deeply under his skin. “Can’t my field assignment be something different? More eclectic?”

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“In fact, I do.” Jeongguk lolls his head to the side, chestnut bangs falling softly. “For my field study, I want to shadow the Princess’ duties.”

You slam your hands down, standing up so you’re nearly nose-to-nose with the young man. “Are you crazy? Do you want Yoongi and I to get caught?”

“Listen, I’ve thought about it all throughout class—”

“—what? You didn’t listen to my lecture?—”

“—and today in class you mentioned that you graduated with a Master’s in Public Affairs, because in fact I always listen to you,” Jeongguk presses a finger to your lips when you try to cut him off, “and lo and behold, one of my minors was in public affairs! What better way to get more experience in the business when I have the master right in front of me?”

“I don’t know, Guk,” you try, mulling through all the possible situations and horrors that could occur because of it.

“Princess, we’re killing two birds with one stone!” Jeongguk pleads, giving you the puppy eyes, “not only do I get a far better field study assignment, but it’s far better because I get to spend more time with you!”

You hate how absolutely weak you’ve become under his gaze. In the span of less than three weeks, Jeon Jeongguk has re-entered your life like he never left. He wanted to spend time with you. The selfish part of your brain says you wish the same. Who are you to deny such a simple desire?

“Fine,” you spit out, putting up a front and pretending to be annoyed, “but you better not get all huffy around Jimin.”

He shrugs, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Worth it.”

“You’re different,” Jeongguk states bluntly, actively ignoring the way Jimin tries to push between you two. Jeongguk continues to press into your shoulder as you weave through the gardens. You’re picking flowers for a specific theme arrangement and pattern. A diplomat from Spain is coming and he is bringing her young daughter. You've heard that she’s recently taken in interest in constructing flower crowns.

“Well, two years can do that to a person,” you reply airily, dropping a tiger lily in the wicker basket Jeongguk insisted on carrying.

Having Jeongguk follow you around like a duckling is fun, to be frank. Jimin is no longer hyper-focused on you, forcing him to spread his attention between you and your overly-attentive student. Jeongguk can’t attend every single one of your events because some of the information’s sensitive, but when he does it makes your job feel less of a job and more like a fun group project.

Like when you and Jeongguk would stumble in the farmer’s market every Sunday morning, hungover but aching to fill your bellies. You two were walking zombies, forcing yourselves out of bed to feed yourselves. But it was always fun because you were together, whenever it was Jeongguk’s turn to pay, you’d sneak in more KitKats for yourself. Whenever it was your turn, Jeongguk would smuggle more cartons of banana milk.

“No, no. It’s not that,” your friend admonishes instantly, “your personality’s still the same, even though it was Yoongi-fied. Your heart hasn’t changed,” you turn your head sharply towards a field of carnations, concealing your flush. “I mean, you’re more confident.”

“In other words,” Jimin pipes, looking up from his iPad, “an air of regality.”

You scoff, putting a hand on your hip and looking expectantly at the two boys. “You’ve changed too, Guk,” you reason, shaking your head. “Old Jeongguk wouldn’t be wearing white dress shirts and shoving princesses in closets.”

“You shoved the princess in a closet—!” Jimin starts, having half a mind to cancel the field study all together.

“Well, Old Jeongguk didn’t have a chance to really get to know you,” Jeongguk twirls a baby’s breath between his fingers, tucking it in-between your ear. “That’s New Jeongguk’s job.”

“So, you’re the Princess’ head of security,” Jeongguk tilts his head to look up at the slightly taller man, his visage covered by a pair of shades. The bodyguard is never really present, only when citizens enter the castle or you’re out of town. “You know you’re inside, right?”

The man only slightly inclines his head to acknowledge Jeongguk’s prodding. Hmph, he looks like a talker.

“If you’re her head of security,” Jeongguk leans closer, trying to avoid any further attention to his conversation, “do you know where she hides her knives? Because sometimes she wears those tight pencil skirts and I can’t help but wonder—”

“That’s classified.”

“Alright, where do you hide your knives—”

“Also classified.”

“Jeongguk,” you relent, sliding your footrest next to your throne, “leave Seokjin alone and come here, please.”

You can’t blame him. It’s always been a pastime of yours to ruffle Seokjin’s feathers, but you must admit that meeting with citizens is a long and frankly, boring process. The routine is fairly simple, the citizen bows and offers something for the table, and in return you lend your ear and offer assistance if possible.

“For your table, Your Highness,” the next citizen bows, carrying a foil-lined tray filled with fresh baked bread.

“Smells delicious, Bertrand.” you beam, ripping open the tin to snatch a hot slice off the top. Rosemary and thyme are egg washed atop the brown bread, and you proffer a piece to Jeongguk, as you could imagine the poor guy is as antsy as ever. “And may I introduce you to my student, Jeon Jeongguk? He’s studying my diplomacy for his field study.”

Bertrand tips his head, “Lucky you, she’s a true leader.”

Jeongguk nods shyly, nibbling on the crust. “Truly an honor.”

Jeongguk offers to bring the gift to the table with the other offerings across the room, and you nod, conversing lightly with Bertrand. His worries are simple enough, he feels pressured by a catering request from an Illyrian Duke, and wishes to serve a party fit for a royal. In resolution, you offer to send a palace chocolatier and chef to help with the preparations. Jeongguk returns to his seat next to yours just as Bertrand leaves. He pulls up his iPad, feigning notes that he should be writing while observing you.

The next citizen hobbles over, holding a large ivory wicker basket covered by a beige tarp. “For your table, Your Highness,” they bow, “I hope you like omelets.”

If you weren’t on the throne with an audience of one-hundred, you’d be delivering a very confused expression, coupled with panic. “May I?” you inquire, forcing a smile as you lift open the tarp.

In the basket there are two small jars of marmalade, and one huge chicken sitting fat and proud that its skin overflows between the gaps of the wicker. Its head twitches in your direction, barely turning because its neck is hugely bulbous with excess weight. Its beady little eyes mock you. It smells fear.

“Her name’s Dixie,” the citizen supplied helpfully.

“Holy shit,” Jeongguk whispers next to you, but not soft enough for it to not echo in the throne room, “Dixie, you are a thick chick.”

“Jeongguk!” you exclaim, which causes the whole room to reverb at your shrill cry.

Of course the chicken has to freak out, flapping its wings and freeing itself from the confines of its package. The animal dives for you, and you press yourself as much as you can against the throne. Jeongguk knows no bounds, throwing himself in front of you to catch the large bird. Feathers weave unto his umber tresses as the bird meets gravity, Jeongguk unable to calm down Dixie.

It’s more or less a wild goose chase (chicken chase?) after that, Jeongguk follows Dixie down the platform and around the throne room. The citizens and staff are clutching their stomachs in laughter, endeared by the young man following the chicken. Jimin is laughing and slapping Seokjin’s shoulder, his face breaking in an unabashed smile.

And you can’t help but laugh along with them, trying to smother your giggles by covering your face with a silk fan. You peek over the thin fabric to see Jeongguk looking especially concentrated on his mission. It wasn’t like the chicken was going to escape the throne room because the doors are closed, but surely it will be a workout as Dixie’s a trooper and isn’t going down without a fight.

“Don’t worry Princess, I got this!” Jeongguk’s voice reassures you from the far edge of the throne room. He’s taken a break, but the glint in his eyes show he’s committed to catching Dixie as she scuttles in circles.

He flashes you a breathtaking smile, all gums and pearly whites as he runs a hand through his wavy locks. Your smile falls slightly, and you clutch your fan tighter at the realization. Oh, you are besotted.

“Hoseok’s had me on my back about teaching a full class before your weekend getaway but I’ve long decided,” you lift your chin haughtily in a way only princesses do, jutting out your lip in confirmation, “that you should enjoy the time you have here. Summer’s almost over. You all should get a headstart on your packing so you can get to the beach early.”

Your class erupts into hoots and hollers, the Powerpoint presentation about the minerals of Illyria long abandoned. Two months have already passed, and in a couple weeks they’ll be saying their goodbyes. A twinge of sadness hits you as you relish in your students’ happy smiles. As each semester passes, each group leaves something behind you’ll never forget. This summer, as much as you taught them, you’ve learned a lot from them as well.

Students are already starting to pack up, but Namjoon’s butt is firmly planted in his seat, raising his hand. “Sorry, I have a question.”

You smile goodnaturedly, already used to his usual spiel. “I can email you the Powerpoint and we can go over whatever you want on Monday.”

“Ah, no. I was wondering if you were coming with us,” Namjoon mutters sheepishly.

You’re surprised, even moreso when Irene and Yerin insist that you should go. “Yes, you have to go!” Yerin bounces in her seat.

“Oh,” you blush, “I can’t. I don’t normally go on these things, wouldn’t it be weird to have your teacher at your party?”

“Hell no!” Yerin gasps shamelessly. It’s one thing you liked about this class, after class is over, they always managed to make you feel normal. Maybe it’s the closeness in age and education, but they remind you so often that you’re still young. After all, they weren’t Illyrian, and while outside of class they put on the whole shebang for you, it didn’t take long for them to get comfortable around you. “We can show you what real college life is like! We can roast barbeque on the beach and tell scary stories!”

Taehyung snorts, already halfway out the door, “I’m sure the Princess doesn’t wanna see you shitfaced in the ocean.”

You placate Yerin with a small smile, “I have to work after this, but I’ll see what I can do.”

Namjoon walks up to your desk as the rest of the students file out. He runs the spine of his journal along your desk, “Prince Yoongi and Hoseok will be there too, if it makes you feel any better. Hope you can come.”

The room is soon vacated, leaving you and your Star Student alone.

“‘I’ll see what I can do’, really?” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, plopping himself atop your desk. Your eyes snap to the way the dark denim cords around his thighs, and you make a deal of slamming your laptop shut. “C’mon, of course you wanna come. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Not really,” you admit. “I used to really like spending the weekend at the villa. I loved getting to know each class and know what it feels like to be like you guys,” you downplay yourself, stuffing books and electronics in your briefcase. “But ever since we roomed together two years ago, I can’t bring myself to go anymore. It’s not the same when you’ve actually had a taste of it.”

Jeongguk’s eyes soften at your confession. You could feel that he wasn’t prepared for your honesty, and you don’t blame him. He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I leave in two weeks, you know.”

“I know.”

“Can you at least try to come, for me?”

You lift your head up to reach his eyes, looking equal parts nervous and vulnerable. You’re suddenly thrusted back to two years ago, cornered in your dorm room where Jeongguk was upset at the thought of hurting him, lying to him. You didn’t want to hurt him, or yourself.

But as Jeongguk’s large hand reaches across the desk to your smaller one, you don’t think to pull away.

“Your Highness!” Jimin interrupts the two of you, and Jeongguk snatches his hand back with a glare. Jimin ignores him, looking breathless as he leans against the door of your classroom. “Your 3 o’clock is ready. We have to hurry if we want to get through the crowd.”

With one last look, Jeongguk excuses himself, brushing past Jimin with a gruff “Bye, Princess.”

“Today’s not your day to meet with citizens,” Yoongi mumbles next to you, looking disapprovingly at the way you wait for the next citizen to approach you.

Seokjin holds the crowd off as you converse with your brother, who looks ready to leave to the villa. He’s dressed in a plain white t-shirt, foam slides and baggy slacks. If it wasn’t for the family crest proudly presented on his right breast pocket, he could easily be mistaken as the average citizen. “Mother insisted,” you reply shortly, growing more irritated by the second.

“Really?” his brows disappear under his bangs, “because from the way she said it, you were looking for work.”

Caught, you turn away from his watchful gaze. “I have a problem, okay?” you say stiffly, “I needed a distraction.”

“Alright,” Yoongi shrugs, leaning close to your ear to murmur, “where’s the dead body?”

You slap his arm, “Yoongi! I didn’t kill anybody!”

“At this rate, it looks like you’re wasting yourself away.” Yoongi replies bluntly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “C’mon, Loverboy was all pouty in my room not too long ago. Don’t disappoint him.”

With that, Yoongi turns on his heel and walks off. Citizens bow at him like dominos as he exits, your break definitively over.

Whatever is blooming between you and Jeongguk, is and never will be fair to the both of you. In your eyes Jeongguk isn’t the type to settle, not relationship-wise, but life-wise. He wanted to grow and cultivate his art, and taste freedom every step of the journey.

You weren’t freedom or growth, and you could only hope he realizes that before you become too selfish.

“Your Highness?” you break out of your reverie when a young woman your age looks at you shyly, “My name is Wendy. I didn’t get anything for the table but, I got you a caramel macchiato.”

She brandishes a venti iced caramel macchiato, condensation dripping from her fingers. Your face lights up, accepting the caffeinated drink. “I really needed this!” you perk up immediately, taking a sip and letting the cool flavor soothe your tastebuds. “Thank you, Wendy. What is it that you request?”

“Advice,” she admits, a blush creeping from her neck. She looks down at her work boots, caked in grime. “I’m an engineer who works in manufacturing Illryian technology.”

“We are eternally grateful for your service to this country,” you reply evenly. Engineers are highly revered in your country, as your economy is dependent on their brilliant minds.

“But I have fallen in love with a man who is under my station, and wishes to find work elsewhere,” she bites her lip, her eyes growing glassy. “I haven’t told him my feelings yet, however I’m also worried for my family who finds men like him to be unworthy of an engineer like myself.”

“Ah, bound by duty and expectation.” you reply grimly, “a rock and a hard place, huh?”

“Yes, forgive me for my crassness. I felt as if you would understand my predicament.”

Putting your drink down, you reach for her hand. Oil and dirt cake her fingers, and she attempts to pull away as to not soil you, but you hold on tighter. “Tell him how you feel, Wendy.” you whisper, a conversation so intimate it’s only proper it be for her ears and her ears only. “Whether he leaves or not after you tell him is his decision. However, I assure you it will hurt far more if you don’t give yourself a chance.”

Her voice cracks, “But what if it doesn’t work out?”

You start to feel a little teary at her candor, and you run a thumb over her palm. “Then you’re one heartbreak closer to happiness. Nevertheless, you are a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman. Don’t let your fears reject that.”

Wendy finds the strength to squeeze your hand, and you belatedly realize that if this piece of advice was personified, it’d be slapping the shit out of you.

“You came!”

Hopped up on bitter caffeine and potential regrets, you stand in the living room well past midnight, party in full swing. Jimin trails behind you sans iPad, feeling lighter in a pair of trunks and a black tank. A playlist of Namjoon’s organizing is blasting from the surround sound, coupled with the flatscreen television projecting an intense lap of MarioKart. Irene and Taehyung are shoulder to shoulder, concentrating on getting that Mushroom Cup. The sliding doors that lead from your villa to the beach are cracked open, wide enough to hear the conversations the other students are exchanging.

It was always nice to have your villa occupied like this. Less empty, more familial.

Yerin is the first to greet you, throwing her arms around you and smelling like seasalt and vodka. She’s drenching your clothes, clad in a yellow polka-dot one-piece. “This weekend’s gonna be killer,” she whispers in your ear, causing the hairs on your neck to rise. For a petite thing, she really wastes no time cutting to the chase.

You detach yourself, holding up a bag of pastries. “Snagged some munchies for your inevitable drunk crash,” you smirk, placing the container on the kitchen island.

Yerin gapes, red tinted lips mouthing an ‘o’ at your language. “You’ve been hidin’ out on us, haven’t you Princess?” Yerin then brushes past you, ready to get her fingers on the confections. You’re over her shoulder, pointing out both Illrian delicacies and pastries she’s familiar with.

After Irene snags the Mushroom Cup they’re joining you at the island, lips coated in powdered sugar and jam. The girls laugh when some powdered sugar gets into Taehyung’s hair, Irene patting him a little too hard on his bangs.

“You’re here!”

You whip around to see Jeongguk sliding the glass doors hurriedly, bare feet slapping across the tiled floor to reach you. He’s dripping wet, ocean water rivering around his body. Your eyes can’t help but follow the flow of the cool liquid, finding purchase between the planes of his chest and honeyed abs, glowing from the heat.

Three years of your life were spent studying preparation and execution for war or nuclear threat. Unfortunately, at this very moment you feel way more prepared for war than Jeon Jeongguk standing in your villa, looking like that.

Instead of the usual pleasantries, you hold up a leather wallet. “You left this in the classroom,” you chide.

It’s a baldfaced lie. Somehow, Jeongguk’s wallet had conveniently ended up in your office between reams of paper. The bastard himself has the audacity to feign surprise, coral lips gaping in relief. “Wow, Princess. Totally not a ploy to get you to come here.”

“Right.”

“Give it here, I’ll drop it off in my room.”

“Wait, wait!” you hold up both your hands, centimeters away from Jeongguk’s pecs. You’re nearly eye level with them, and you force yourself to look up at his smug face. “You’re dripping wet on the tile! Your feet still have sand you heathen! Do not get our carpets dirty!” you hold the wallet to your chest protectively, “where’s your room?”

He tilts his head adorably, droplets flecking from his slicked back mane. “Third door on the right.” he doesn’t dare to argue with your sudden passion to keep your villa clean.

You nod, “go enjoy the water. I’ll be right out.” You don’t give him a chance to reply, kicking off your sandals as you reach the cosier part of the villa. Soft carpet meets your toes as you pad off to the guest bedrooms.

Jeongguk managed to snag the corner room, albeit smaller, it’s a single with a full mattress. You see his Superdry backpack open on the floor, its bottom worn with the white lining peeking through. Despite only arriving in the afternoon, his fresh scent is palpable. You drop the wallet on his desk, and you notice that his laptop’s still on.

The Macbook Pro glows confidently, his screensaver revealing a photograph of you on your balcony.

“Snooping around, Princess?”

You whip around, seeing Jeongguk appear fully clothed, running a towel over his hair. He is no longer dripping water or sand, but he still smelled like salt and fire. He nonchalantly closes the door behind him, taking a seat at the foot of his bed.

“You know it’s illegal to take unsolicited pictures of royalty, right?”

“And who should I answer to, hm? The Princess?” he teases, face blooming from the fluffy white towel.

You’re not upset about the picture, he knows that. But there you sit, slumped over his desk, looking forlornly at his picture of you.

“I’ve locked the door,” Jeongguk pipes up, looking at you worriedly. “Yoongi mentioned that the room’s are soundproof. He said you looked upset today. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

The room feels smaller, swallowing you whole. You’re tired from today’s events, both emotionally and physically. Jeongguk is having nothing of it, reaching between the two of you to pull the arms of the desk chair, wheeling you between his thighs.

“Jeongguk,” you start, “why weren’t you mad at me when you were right? Right about me hiding something from you.”

His brows furrow, “You made a sacrifice and protected your brother. Why would I be mad at that?” he says honestly, “sure, I was upset at first. Who wouldn’t be? But you did it out of love.”

You smile wanly, knowing that there wasn’t going to be a chance that he’d be upset at you. It was out of your devices. “I wanted you to be mad,” you admit, wringing your fingers between your skirt, “it would’ve made it easier to leave.”

“It would’ve, wouldn’t it?” he replies, his voice cotton soft. “After you left, Yoongi wouldn’t let me talk to you on the phone. Said you needed time. But I got him to tell me stories about you, stories that made me realize that I missed getting to know you.”

It’s then you feel the weight of today express itself onto your cheeks, the wetness dampening your skin. You feel his thumb brush away the tears.

“Tell me,” Jeongguk requests softly, “tell me what you really feel.”

You let your head collapse in his hands, relishing the warmth and comfort it brings. “I feel hurt. And confined.”

“More,” Jeongguk bids, his other hand squeezing your thigh, “let it out, Princess.”

You are a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman. Don’t let your fears reject that.

“I miss acting like fools at the grocery store, falling on top of each other half-asleep.” Everything tumbles out shamelessly, like a waterfall. “I hate how frustrated I am when you call me Princess, because while it is my title, it turns me on in the most devastating way when you say it.” you drop your head in the crook of his neck, embarrassed to see his reaction. “I want to laugh with you, hold you, I want you, so badly. But I want you to be happy, to make music and art, and travel the world to find your muse,” you shake your head, pushing yourself away from him. “I feel so stuck here, I can’t hold you back when you’re free and—”

“That’s enough bullshit,” and he’s kissing you, a clashing of teeth that has you sensitive and reeling. His hands grasp your cheeks, and you’re stumbling in your chair as the wheels make moves on their own. You squeak against his lips before you’re wheeled back to the bed. Hot hands pull you forward to teeter your body onto the bed, keeping you in place.

The man in question breaks apart, but close enough that his lips brush against yours when he speaks, “I’ve never kissed a princess before,” Jeongguk says wryly, cupping your cheek, “but if you make one more gripe about freedom and your stupid self-righteousness and I’ll stop.”

A pure, unprepared whine escapes your lips, shame be damned.

“You’re my muse,” he plants a kiss on your forehead, “I bothered Yoongi for weeks, working tooth and nail for that scholarship,” a kiss on both your nose, “you’re what it means to feel free.”

And that’s all it takes for you to surge forward, toppling over him until he’s pushed against the headboard. Capturing your lips with his, you catch droplets of saltwater and a flavor that’s so distinctly Jeongguk, feeling high off the taste.

Your skirt rides to your waist, your underwear damp from the ocean and arousal. You straddle him, feeling so unbounded and free as Jeongguk lets you do what you’ve both wanted to do. With a roll of your hips Jeongguk grunts, forehead pressed to yours. “Princess,” he rasps, meeting your thrusts, “we have until Christmas to do this, no need to rush.”

Wait, Christmas?

Jeongguk grins, kissing away your surprise. For now, you’ll ignore the burn between your thighs. “Before we left today, Yoongi and I asked the King, your father, if he would consider extending my scholarship for a full semester. I mentioned that Yoongi and I had some unfinished projects from undergrad,” he pecks your lips, “and he’s going to help me produce a full album for my final thesis.”

“That’s amazing!” you cheer, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so proud of the two of you!”

“Mhm,” he nuzzles your neck, pressing featherlight kisses to your skin, “can’t produce anything without my muse around, so I’d say Illyria is the perfect location.”

Your fingers thread into his damp locks, and you feel your heart swell with happiness. Here, under the gaze of the beautiful boy who wanted to offer you his heart and his world, you felt free.

extra.

It takes the strength of both your hands to pull Jeongguk in the storage closet, but it isn’t like he’s putting up a fight anyhow.

“Come here often?” you drawl, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Impressive,” he chuckles, “usually it takes you an hour to shake Jimin off ya. It’s only been thirty-five minutes.”

“I just wanted to show you something funny,” you pull up your Instagram, and play the featured video. While it was posted weeks ago, it started to pick up traction after Yoongi liked the post this morning. Jeongguk is dashing around the palace, sweating bullets and cooing “c’mon Dixie!” to the sprinting chicken in the throne room.

“You’re viral!” you giggle, “you put Illyria on the social media map!”

Under the lowlights, it’s still easy to see Jeongguk’s skin has gone placid. “If I ever hit it big, that shit better not haunt me,” he groans into your neck.

“Please,” you roll your eyes, “every famous person has a backstory. Aubrey Graham had Degrassi and the Yodeling Wal-Mart boy–”

“Are you really gonna compare your boyfriend to the Yodeling Wal-Mart kid? Tell me what you really came here for,” And like a teenager, Jeongguk reels it back in, winding his hands around your waist. He gives you bedroom eyes like it's a session of Seven Minutes in Heaven, “so, we’re gonna make out or what?”

#jungkook #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jeongguk #jungkook fluff #kpop #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #jjk #royal au #college au #bts x reader

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ochoislas · 1 year ago

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κόρη el espejo, el alfiler, la adormidera

MIMO XVIII. Habla el Espejo:

Me formó en plata un hábil artesano. Primero fui cuenco como su mano, y mi otra cara se parecía al globo de un ojo nublado. Pero luego me dieron la combadura capaz de copiar las imágenes. Finalmente Atenea insufló en mí la sabiduría. No desconozco lo que desea la muchacha que me empuña, y le respondo por adelantado que es linda. Sin embargo se levanta de noche y prende su lámpara de bronce. Guía hacia mí el airón dorado de la lumbre, y su corazón desea un rostro distinto al suyo. Yo le muestro su propia frente blanca, y sus redondeadas mejillas, y el túrgido nacimiento de sus senos, y sus ojos llenos de ciuriosidad. Casi me toca con sus labios trémulos; mas el oro que arde alumbra sólo su rostro y todo lo demás en mí es sombra.

Habla el Alfiler de oro:

Mientras pasaba sin fama una trama de biso, que había sido robada a un tirio por un esclavo negro, me prendió una hetera perfumada. Me puso entre su cabellos y allí pinchaba los dedos de los insensatos. Afrodita me instruyó, acerando mi punta con la voluptuosidad. Finalmente paré en el tocado de esta jovencita, donde estremezco sus criznejas. Trisca debajo de mí como una novilla loca, sin saber qué la zahiere. Durante las cuatro vigilias de la noche, agito las ideas en su cabeza y su corazón responde. La llama inquieta de la lámpara pone a bailar las sombras que cimbran sus alados brazos. Tan turbulentas, que la muchacha vislumbra raudas visiones, y se lanza ante su espejo. Pero éste no le muestra más que su propio rostro castigado por el deseo.

Habla la cabezuela de Adormidera:

Nací en los soterraños campos, entre plantas cuyos colores se ignoran. Conozco todos los matices de la sombra; he visto las claras flores de las tinieblas. Perséfone me ha tenido en su enfaldo, y allí me he dormido. Cuando la aguja de Afrodita pincha de curiosidad a la mozuela, yo le muestro las formas que yerran en la noche eterna. Una hermosa juventud adornada con gracias que ya no existen. Afrodita sabe imbuir sus deseos, y Atenea muestra a los mortales la inanidad de sus ensueños; pero Perséfone posee las llaves misteriosas de las puertas de asta y de marfil. Por la primera envía de noche las sombras que visitan a las gentes; y Afrodita las arrebata; y Atenea las extingue. Pero por la segunda puerta la Clemente recibe a todos los que Afrodita y Atenea extenuaron.

κόρη le miroir, l'aiguille, le pavot

MIME XVIII. Le Miroir parle:

J'ai été façonné d'argent par un ouvrier habile. D'abord je fus creux comme sa main, et mon autre face était semblable au globe d'un œil terne. Mais ensuite je reçus l'incurvation propre à rendre les images. Enfin Athéné a soufflé la sagesse en moi. Je n'ignore pas ce que désire la jeune fille qui me tient, et je lui réponds d'avance qu'elle est jolie. Cependant elle se lève la nuit, et allume sa lampe de bronze. Elle dirige vers moi l'aigrette dorée de la flamme, et son cœur veut un autre visage que le sien. Je lui montre son propre front blanc, et ses joues modelées, et la naissance gonflée de ses seins, et ses yeux pleins de curiosité. Elle me touche presque de ses lèvres tremblantes; mais l'or qui brûle éclaire seulement son visage et tout le reste en moi est obscur.

L'Aiguille d'or parle:

Comme je traversais sans gloire une trame de byssos, ayant été volée chez un Tyrien par un esclave noir, je fus saisie par une hétaïre parfumée. Elle me plaça dans ses cheveux et je piquai les doigts des imprudents. Aphrodite m'a instruite et a aiguisé ma pointe avec la volupté. Je suis arrivée enfin dans la coiffure de cette jeune fille, et j'ai fait frémir ses torsades. Elle bondit sous moi comme une génisse folle, et elle ne voit pas la cause de son mal. Pendant les quatre parties de la nuit, j'agite les idées dans sa tête et son cœur obéit. La flamme inquiète de la lampe fait danser des ombres qui courbent leurs bras ailés. Ainsi tumultueuses, elle aperçoit des visions rapides, et elle se précipite vers son miroir. Mais il ne lui montre que son visage tourmenté par le désir.

La Tête du pavot parle:

Je suis née aux champs souterrains, parmi des plantes dont les couleurs sont inconnues. Je sais toutes les nuances de l'obscurité; j'ai vu les fleurs lumineuses des ténèbres. Perséphone m'a tenue sur son giron et je m'y suis endormie. Quand l'aiguille d'Aphrodite blesse la jeune fille de curiosité, je lui montre les formes qui errent dans la nuit éternelle. Ce sont de beaux jeunes gens parés avec des grâces qui n'existent plus. Aphrodite sait donner leurs désirs, et Athéné montre aux mortels l'inanité de leurs rêves; mais Perséphone tient les clefs mystérieuses des deux portes de corne et d'ivoire. Par la première porte elle envoie dans la nuit les ombres qui hantent les hommes; et Aphrodite s'en empare, et Athéné les tue. Mais par la seconde porte la Bonne Déesse reçoit ceux et celles qui sont las d'Aphrodite et d'Athéné.

Marcel Schwob

#Marcel Schwob #literatura francesa #poesía simbolista #antigüedad #objetos #imágenes #acicate #ensueños #deseo #di-versiones©ochoislas

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rynuk · 4 years ago

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Some ROTG Headcanons for Oro

Optional: Oro knew Jack before he became Frost, whether it was romantic or not is up to the individuals in said RP but no matter what Oro was attracted to Jack (Jack being 19+ in any romantic things ofc)

Oro landed on earth just a year before the colonists settled in Burgess, he lived in the forest in tune with the land up until the settlers came. At that point he attempted to integrate into the society to avoid getting lonely.

Following up with the idea that Oro knew Jack when he was human, after Jack’s death Oro stayed with his companion’s sister to help fill the void. Up until she had a son she named Jackson, he couldn’t take it and left soon after the child’s birth.

Once he left the village, Oro wandered for awhile before being approached by Pitch. Weakened and without a purpose, Oro took Pitch’s offer and worked for him for those years up until meeting the guardians.

Oro believed that Frost was a spirit that merely took Jack’s visage, thus earning the spirit his intense hate up until it is revealed to actually be his Jack.

After this is pretty much up to me and the partner writing the verse, and again this is assuming that Oro and Jack had some sort of relationship.

#rotg verse tbt

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reseau-actu · 5 years ago

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Les médecins prenant en charge les patients infectés par le coronavirus SARS-CoV-2 ne cessent chaque jour d’en apprendre davantage sur le Covid-19.

Récemment, ils ont constaté que certains patients infectés présentent, parfois avant tout autre signe clinique, une anosmie (perte de l’odorat), souvent associée à une agueusie (perte du goût). Très récemment, des symptômes digestifs, et mêmes dermatologiques, ont été rapportés. Parallèlement, les données s’accumulent sur l’atteinte cardiaque associée au Covid-19 et son impact sur la mortalité. Ces publications montrent que la maladie Covid-19 peut se présenter sous de multiples formes cliniques.

Des articles décrivent également la complexité du profil clinique et biologique chez certains patients. Ont ainsi été décrits des cas d’infection asymptomatique chez des individus dont certains présentent dans les prélèvements nasopharyngés une charge virale similaire à celle observée chez des patients symptomatiques. De même, des cas de patients modérément symptomatiques malgré la présence d’importantes anomalies pulmonaires visibles au scanner thoracique ont été rapportés.

Grippe et Covid-19

Écoulement nasal, fièvre, toux, courbature, fatigue : les premiers symptômes du Covid-19 sont comparables à ceux de la grippe. Deux infections respiratoires dont les virus responsables ont en commun de se transmettre par voie aérienne. On comprend qu’il n’était pas forcément facile de faire la part des choses entre ces deux pathologies en janvier dernier en Chine, comme l’atteste un cas rapporté le 11 mars dans la revue en ligne Emerging Infectious Diseases.

L’histoire est celle d’un homme de 69 ans admis au China-Japan Friendship Hospital de Pékin pour une fièvre et une toux sèche. Ce patient, qui s’était rendu à Wuhan entre le 18 décembre 2019 et le 22 janvier 2020, a commencé à présenter des symptômes le 23 janvier. Le scanner thoracique a alors montré des images anormales du poumon droit (« aspect en verre dépoli »). Son récent voyage dans la ville épicentre de l’épidémie alerte l’équipe soignante. Les examens sur les prélèvements nasopharyngés reviennent négatifs pour le SARS-CoV-2 mais sont positifs pour le virus grippal Influenza A. Il s’agit de tests PCR (polymerase chain reaction ou amplification en chaîne par polymérase) qui détectent le matériel génétique viral. Le patient quitte alors l’hôpital mais les médecins lui demandent toutefois de rester confiné à domicile. Son état clinique se dégrade. Le patient est de nouveau hospitalisé. Le scanner thoracique montre cette fois une atteinte pulmonaire diffuse, témoignant d’un syndrome respiratoire aigu sévère.

Les médecins réalisent un quatrième test diagnostique PCR sur les crachats qui revient encore négatif. Ils pratiquent alors une bronchoscopie avec recueil du liquide de lavage broncho-alvéolaire (LBA), examen consistant à instiller du sérum physiologique au niveau des bronches et à le réaspirer. Des examens sophistiqués de biologie moléculaire (analyse métagénomique) révèlent la présence du matériel génétique du SARS-CoV-2 dans le liquide de LBA. Le test PCR est également positif sur ce même prélèvement.

Ce cas clinique montre la difficulté de diagnostiquer le Covid-19 en cas de résultats faussement négatifs sur les prélèvements nasopharyngés mais positifs pour un autre virus respiratoire.

Tests PCR positifs après guérison clinique

Autre situation complexe : celle de patients guéris du Covid-19 chez lesquels on détecte encore le SARS-CoV-2. Des radiologues et biologistes du Zhongnan Hospital de l’université de Wuhan ont rapporté le 27 février dans le Journal de l’Association Médicale Américaine (JAMA) le cas de quatre patients, professionnels de santé, ayant été exposés au coronavirus. Tous ont un test diagnostique PCR positif et leur scanner thoracique montre des images pulmonaires anormales*. Chez ces quatre patients, la maladie Covid-19 est légère à modérée. Ils ont été autorisés à quitter l’hôpital après que l’équipe médicale a observé la résolution des symptômes et des anomalies au scanner thoracique, ainsi que l’absence de détection de l’ARN viral dans deux séries d’échantillons des voies aériennes supérieures prélevés à 24 heures d’intervalle. Selon les cas, il s’est écoulé entre 12 et 32 jours entre le début des symptômes et la guérison.

A la sortie de l’hôpital ou à l’arrêt de la quarantaine, ces patients vont alors se soumettre à des tests PCR sur des prélèvements respiratoires entre le 5e et 13e jour après la guérison clinique. Tous se révèlent positifs. Ces résultats semblent donc indiquer qu’une petite proportion de patients guéris peut encore être porteuse du coronavirus.

Les auteurs de cette publication ne fournissent cependant pas de données quantitatives ou semi-quantitatives. En d’autres termes, on ignore l’importance de la charge virale. Or, on ne peut conclure qu’un individu est contagieux sur la base d’un test PCR positif, en l’absence de quantification. On considère en effet que seule la culture du virus permet de déterminer le potentiel infectieux du prélèvement. Mais cette technique n’est pas réalisable en routine.

Il n’empêche que pour certains spécialistes chinois, cette publication semble néanmoins indiquer que même lorsque deux tests PCR consécutifs sont négatifs, des tests PCR supplémentaires pour suivre l’excrétion virale post-guérison pourraient être utiles chez certains patients (notamment en fonction de la charge virale) avant de recommander la levée du confinement. Et de fortement préconiser un maintien de l’isolement pendant deux semaines après la guérison clinique.

Des symptômes digestifs fréquents

Plusieurs études convergent pour décrire depuis peu la présence de signes digestifs dans l’infection à SARS-CoV-2. Des chercheurs chinois ont récemment analysé la symptomatologie digestive chez des patients atteints de Covid-19 et admis dans trois hôpitaux de la province de Hubei : le Wuhan Hanan Hospital, le Wuhan Union Hospital et le Huanggang Central Hospital, spécialement construit pour les patients Covid-19 à 80 km de Wuhan.

Il s’avère que les patients Covid-19 peuvent présenter une diarrhée comme premier symptôme de la maladie. Dans de rares cas, un patient peut même présenter des symptômes digestifs en l’absence de symptômes respiratoires.

Publiée le 28 mars dans l’American Journal of Gastroenterology, cette étude rétrospective a porté sur 204 patients (âge moyen : 54 ans). Parmi eux, plus de la moitié (103 patients) ont présenté un ou plusieurs symptômes digestifs. Ils étaient 97 à avoir développé des symptômes respiratoires et digestifs. Par ailleurs, 6 patients n’ont présenté que des signes digestifs, en l’absence donc de symptômes respiratoires.

Au total, 18 % des patients ont présenté un symptôme gastro-intestinal spécifique (diarrhée, nausées, vomissements ou douleurs abdominales). Si l’on ne considère que la diarrhée, 17 % des malades ont eu des selles liquides (non abondantes et généralement trois fois par jour). Les patients développant des symptômes digestifs présentent également une élévation des enzymes hépatiques.

Les auteurs ont observé qu’au fur et à mesure que la maladie s’aggrave, les symptômes digestifs sont plus prononcés. Il n’a cependant pas été observé de différences entre les patients diarrhéiques et les autres en termes de durée de séjour en soins intensifs ou de mortalité. Cette étude montre donc que la moitié des patients hospitalisés présentent des symptômes digestifs. Il s’agit là, selon les auteurs, d’un résultat important dans la mesure où, si les cliniciens ne tiennent compte que de la seule symptomatologie respiratoire, ils pourraient ne pas porter le diagnostic de Covid-19 chez des patients ne présentant pas initialement de symptômes respiratoires ou ne poser ce diagnostic qu’une fois que ceux-ci surviennent.

Les auteurs ont par ailleurs noté que le délai entre le début des symptômes digestifs et l’admission à l’hôpital est significativement plus long (9 jours) pour les patients présentant des symptômes digestifs que chez les autres (7 jours). Selon eux, il importe de savoir évoquer le diagnostic de Covid-19 lorsque des patients à risque, possiblement exposés au SARS-Co-2, présentent de la fièvre et des symptômes digestifs, même en l’absence de symptomatologie respiratoire.

Comment expliquer que le SARS-CoV-2 puisse entraîner des symptômes digestifs ? Les auteurs formulent plusieurs hypothèses. Tout d’abord, le SARS-CoV-2 est similaire au coronavirus du SARS (SARS-CoV). Tous deux utilisent le récepteur ACE2 comme porte d’entrée dans les cellules qu’ils infectent. Or, le SARS-CoV provoque une atteinte hépatique en augmentant l’expression du récepteur ACE2 dans le foie. Le SARS-CoV-2 peut également endommager, directement ou indirectement, le système digestif par l’intermédiaire de la réponse inflammatoire de l’organisme. Plusieurs études ont par ailleurs montré la présence du matériel génétique du virus dans les selles (jusqu’à 53 % des patients analysés). Enfin, il est possible que la présence du coronavirus perturbe le microbiote intestinal. Des études visant à analyser l’impact du SARS-CoV-2 sur la flore bactérienne intestinale sont en cours.

Transmission oro-fécale ?

Les chercheurs indiquent ne pas avoir recherché la présence du matériel génétique du coronavirus SARS-CoV-2 dans les selles des patients et n’ont donc pas été en mesure d’établir une possible corrélation entre la quantité de virus dans les échantillons fécaux et la fréquence ou la sévérité de la symptomatologie digestive. Des travaux ultérieurs devront explorer cette question dans la mesure où des études ont montré la présence de l’ARN du SARS-CoV-2 et/ou de particules virales en microscopie électronique dans les selles de patients Covid-19.

Une étude chinoise pédiatrique, parue le 13 mars dans la revue Nature Medicine, a ainsi montré chez 8 enfants la persistance d’une excrétion fécale du virus alors que les prélèvements nasopharyngés étaient redevenus négatifs. Ces résultats soulèvent donc la possibilité d’une transmission oro-fécale par des matières fécales infectées.

De même, une étude chinoise parue le 11 mars dans le JAMA, portant sur 205 patients adultes atteints de Covid-19, a détecté par PCR la présence du coronavirus dans 29 % des échantillons fécaux (44 sur 153 analysés). Des particules virales viables ont également été observées en microscopie électronique dans quatre prélèvements de selles provenant de deux patients qui n’avaient pas de diarrhée.

Enfin, des pédiatres de l’université chinoise de Hong Kong ont rapporté le 28 mars dans le Journal of Microbiology, Immunology and Infection les résultats d’une étude évaluant par PCR la cinétique d’élimination du coronavirus dans les voies respiratoires et dans les selles de trois enfants âgés de 5, 6 et 15 ans atteints de Covid-19 d’intensité légère à modérée. Un seul enfant (5 ans) a présenté des symptômes gastrointestinaux (douleurs abdominales et diarrhée).

Il s’avère que le SARS-CoV-2 peut persister dans l’appareil digestif plus longtemps que dans le système respiratoire. En effet, le coronavirus a disparu dans les voies respiratoires dans les deux semaines suivant la diminution de la fièvre alors que l’ARN viral est parfois resté détectable dans les selles pendant plus de quatre semaines. Plus précisément, chez deux enfants, le matériel génétique du SARS-CoV-2 a été détecté 8 et 20 jours après l’absence de détection du virus dans les prélèvements respiratoires. Chez le troisième enfant, la disparition du SARS-CoV-2 dans les selles est intervenue 20 jours après celle de l’ARN viral dans les échantillons respiratoires, soit 30 jours après le début de l’hospitalisation.

L’excrétion persistante du virus dans les selles d’enfants Covid-19 soulève la possibilité qu’il puisse être transmis par la voie oro-fécale, d’autant que le virus vivant a été cultivé à partir de selles dans certains cas. Les auteurs estiment que la détection du SARS-CoV-2 devrait être un préalable à la décision de sortie de l’hôpital et de la levée du confinement. Selon eux, des efforts massifs devraient être déployés à tous les niveaux pour empêcher la propagation de l’infection chez les enfants après la réouverture des jardins d’enfants et des écoles.

L’ensemble de ces résultats souligne l’extrême importance de l’hygiène, en particulier du lavage des mains, pour éviter une transmission oro-fécale, même si celle-ci n’est pas confirmée à ce jour.

Signes dermatologiques

Très récemment, les manifestations cutanées liées au Covid-19 ont également retenu l’attention de dermatologues italiens. A ceux qui s’étonneraient qu’un spécialiste des maladies de la peau s’intéresse à une pathologie dominée par les symptômes respiratoires, il faut avoir à l’esprit que les dermatologues de Lombardie ont été, comme d’autres médecins, en première ligne lorsque les malades infectés par le SARS-CoV-2 ont afflué en masse dans les hôpitaux du nord de l’Italie. Ils ont notamment travaillé dans les postes de triage des patients afin d’optimiser les circuits de prise en charge, de même que dans les unités accueillant les patients testés positifs au SARS-CoV-2.

Publié le 26 mars dans l’European Academy of Dermatology and Venereology, une étude a recensé les signes dermatologiques observés chez des patients atteints de Covid-19. Cet article ne ressemble pas à un classique article de dermatologie dans la mesure où il ne comporte aucune photographie des lésions observées. Il n’était en effet pas question pour les dermatologues de passer de chambre en chambre avec un appareil photographique potentiellement contaminé par le virus.

Ont été exclus de l’analyse les patients qui avaient reçu un nouveau traitement dans les 15 jours, dans la mesure ils auraient pu développer un effet secondaire dermatologique. Au total, sur les 88 patients étudiés, 18 (20 %) ont présenté des manifestations cutanées : 8 au début de la maladie et 10 en cours d’hospitalisation. Il s’agissait de rash érythémateux (rougeur), d’une urticaire diffuse ou encore de vésicules. Les lésions siègent le plus souvent au niveau du tronc et cicatrisent en quelques jours. Elles ne sont pas corrélées à la sévérité de la maladie et ressemblent à celles observées dans des infections virales courantes.

Fréquentes lésions cardiaques

Une autre problématique ressort au vu des données cliniques les plus récentes : celle de l’impact de l’atteinte cardiaque sur la mortalité des patients hospitalisés.

Tout commence lorsque le 24 janvier dernier, des médecins du Jin Yin-tan Hospital de Whuan décrivent dans The Lancet les caractéristiques cliniques de 41 patients chinois hospitalisés pour pneumonie et infectés par ce que l’on désigne alors comme le nouveau coronavirus virus 2019 (2019 n-CoV), on apprend alors que cinq d’entre eux présentent une atteinte cardiaque aiguë, soit 12 % des individus de cette cohorte. L’atteinte cardiaque est définie par une élévation importante de la concentration dans le sang d’un marqueur (troponine, une protéine du muscle cardiaque) ou la présence d’anomalies à l’électrocardiogramme ou à l’échocardiographie.

Deux semaines plus tard, le 7 février, une équipe du Zhongnan Hospital de Wuhan rapporte dans le JAMA les complications développées par 85 patients hospitalisés pour une pneumonie associée au nouveau coronavirus. Parmi eux, environ 16 % ont présenté un trouble du rythme cardiaque (arythmie) et 7 % une atteinte cardiaque.

On sait depuis peu que le syndrome respiratoire aigu sévère lié au coronavirus SARS-CoV-2 peut parfois s’accompagner d’une atteinte du muscle cardiaque (myocarde).

Des études ont évalué la concentration sanguine de marqueurs cardiaques, à savoir des substances normalement présentes dans le muscle cardiaque mais qui ne sont libérées dans la circulation que si le myocarde est endommagé ou nécrosé.

Des médecins du Renmin Hospital de l’université de Wuhan ont rapporté le 27 mars dans la revue JAMA Cardiology l’importance de l’atteinte cardiaque en termes de mortalité. Leur étude a porté sur 416 patients hospitalisés pour Covid-19. Environ 20 % des patients ont présenté une atteinte cardiaque définie par une forte élévation dans le sang de la troponine (hsTNI ou troponine ultra-sensible), reflet d’une souffrance du myocarde.

En comparaison avec les patients ne présentant pas d’atteinte cardiaque, ceux qui avaient développé ce type de lésion étaient plus âgés (âge médian 74 ans versus 60 ans). La présence d’une pathologie préexistante (hypertension, diabète, maladie coronarienne, insuffisance cardiaque, maladie cérébrovasculaire) était plus fréquente chez les patients avec atteinte cardiaque. Ces derniers avaient un taux plus élevé de globules blancs (leucocytes), de peptide natriurétique (substance qui s’accumule dans le sang en cas d’insuffisance cardiaque sous l’effet de l’étirement des fibres du muscle cardiaque) et de protéines témoins d’une réponse inflammatoire : protéine C-réactive (CRP), procalcitonine.

Surtout, les patients présentant une atteinte cardiaque étaient significativement plus nombreux (58 %) à présenter une détresse respiratoire aiguë que les autres (4 %). Parmi eux, le taux de mortalité était significativement plus élevé (51 %) que chez les patients ne présentant pas d’atteinte cardiaque (4,5 %).

Les mécanismes possibles de l’atteinte cardiaque

Il reste à comprendre comment un coronavirus peut provoquer une atteinte cardiaque. Publiée en 2006, une étude menée auprès de 121 patients atteints de SARS (lié à l’infection par le coronavirus SARS-CoV) avait montré la présence d’une hypertension chez la moitié d’entre eux (61 patients). Parmi eux, environ 72 % présentaient une accélération du rythme cardiaque. Cette tachycardie, qui cédait généralement spontanément, n’était pas associée à un risque de décès. Une situation qui n’a rien à voir avec ce que l’on observe avec le SARS-CoV-2.

En effet, les cardiologues de Renmin Hospital de Wuhan indiquent que plus de la moitié des patients atteints de Covid-19 ayant présenté une atteinte cardiaque au cours de l’hospitalisation sont décédés.

Concernant les patients de MERS (syndrome respiratoire du Moyen-Orient), il a été montré que cette infection due au coronavirus MERS-CoV peut provoquer une inflammation du muscle cardiaque (myocardite aiguë avec œdème du myocarde et lésions du ventricule gauche au niveau de sa pointe et des faces latérales). Cette atteinte cardiaque pourrait être directement provoquée par le coronavirus dans la mesure où le récepteur ACE2, porte d’entrée du coronavirus dans les cellules humaines, est fortement exprimé dans le cœur. On peut donc logiquement penser que l’atteinte cardiaque observée chez les patients Covid-19 implique le récepteur ACE2.

Il ne semble pas que les choses soient si simples. En effet, une récente étude anatomopathologique n’a trouvé que peu de cellules inflammatoires infiltrées dans le tissu cardiaque de patients autopsiés. De plus, les lésions du myocarde ne sont pas importantes. Il semblerait donc que le virus SARS-CoV-2 ne soit pas directement responsable de l’atteinte cardiaque. Des études sont donc nécessaires pour déterminer si le virus peut lui-même engendrer des dommages du muscle cardiaque.

« Orage » de cytokines

Il se pourrait que l’atteinte cardiaque à la phase aiguë résulte de ce que les immunologistes appellent un « orage cytokinique », autrement dit une libération massive de molécules inflammatoires produites par le système immunitaire fortement sollicité pour lutter contre l’infection virale. Cette réaction incontrôlée, liée à une surproduction de ces messagers chimiques produits par l’activation continue de cellules immunitaires (lymphocytes, macrophages), engage le pronostic vital dans la mesure où elle est responsable d’une inflammation généralisée, d’une instabilité de la pression sanguine et de la détérioration du fonctionnement de plusieurs organes (défaillance multiviscérale). Il a été montré que les patients admis pour Covid-19 en soins intensifs avaient des taux sanguins élevés en cytokines, notamment en interleukines (IL-2, IL-7, IL-10) et TNF-alpha. Ces molécules inflammatoires pourraient entraîner la mort des cellules musculaires cardiaques (cardiomyocytes).

Les chercheurs du Renmin Hospital de l’université de Wuhan indiquent avoir enregistré des taux significativement élevés de marqueurs de l’inflammation (CRP, procalcitonine) chez les patients présentant une atteinte cardiaque.

Le 27 mars, une étude publiée dans JAMA Cardiology, conduite par des médecins du Zhongan Hospital de l’université de Wuhan auprès de 187 patients Covid-19, a rapporté des résultats similaires. Environ 28 % des patients ont développé une atteinte cardiaque, définie par une élévation majeure du taux sanguin de troponine T. Les auteurs ont trouvé que la mortalité était significativement plus élevée chez les patients qui présentaient des taux élevés de troponine T que chez ceux qui avaient des taux normaux de ce marqueur cardiaque. Le taux de létalité était respectivement dans les deux groupes d’environ 59 % et 9 %.

En comparaison avec les patients ayant un taux normal de troponine T, ceux présentant des taux élevés de cette protéine présentaient un taux plus important de complications : détresse respiratoire, troubles graves du rythme cardiaque (arythmies malignes), insuffisance rénale aiguë, trouble aigu de la coagulation. La présence conjointe d’une pathologie cardiovasculaire préexistante et de taux élevés de troponine T était associée durant l’hospitalisation à un taux de mortalité important (69 %). Celui-ci était nettement inférieur (35 %) dans le groupe de patients fragilisés par une maladie cardiovasculaire mais ne présentant pas un taux élevé de troponine T. Enfin, le taux de létalité était de 13 % parmi les patients sans pathologie cardiovasculaire préexistante et avec un taux normal de troponine T.

Les taux élevés de troponine T étaient significativement associés aux taux de marqueurs de l’inflammation (CRP et peptide natriurétique NT-proBNP*), indiquant ainsi l’association entre l’atteinte myocardique et l’intensité de l’inflammation.

Ces informations, qui parviennent en temps réel à la communauté médicale, sont de la plus grande importance dans la mesure où elles indiquent que le Covid-19 peut non seulement aggraver une pathologie cardiovasculaire préexistante (ce qu’indiquaient des publications fin février et début mars)** mais également induire une atteinte du muscle cardiaque significativement associée à une mortalité accrue.

Myocardite aiguë

L’atteinte cardiaque peut également se présenter sous une forme atypique chez des patients sans aucun antécédent cardiovasculaire. Des médecins de l’Institut de cardiologie de Brescia (Italie) ont rapporté le 27 mars dans JAMA Cardiology le cas d’une femme de 53 ans, en bonne santé et ne présentant pas de pathologie cardiaque pré-existante.

Admise aux urgences pour intense fatigue depuis deux jours, elle ne présente pas de gène respiratoire, ni de douleurs dans la poitrine. Elle n’est pas fiévreuse. Sa tension artérielle est basse (90/50 mmHg). La radiographie pulmonaire ne montre rien de particulier. Les examens sanguins montrent en revanche une élévation de deux marqueurs de souffrance du muscle cardiaque : la troponine T et le peptide natriurétique (NT-proBNP). Le test PCR sur un écouvillonnage nasopharyngé revient positif pour le SARS-CoV-2. L’imagerie par résonance magnétique (IRM) permet de poser le diagnostic de myocardite aiguë (inflammation du muscle cardiaque). La patiente a également développé, en regard des cavités cardiaques droites, un épanchement liquidien dans le péricarde, l’enveloppe qui entoure le cœur. Elle présente donc une myopéricardite aiguë, alors même qu’elle ne souffre d’aucune gène respiratoire.

Une semaine auparavant, des médecins chinois avaient rapporté dans l’European Heart Journal un cas de myocardite fulminante chez un homme de 37 ans atteint de Covid-19. Ce patient a été traité avec succès par corticoïdes et immunoglobulines.

Ainsi, les données convergent pour souligner la réalité de l’atteinte cardiaque dans le Covid-19, parfois même en l’absence de symptômes respiratoires et de pneumonie. Cela tranche avec les premières publications qui décrivaient principalement l’intensité de la symptomatologie respiratoire et la prise en charge de l’infection virale. C’est la raison pour laquelle on ne dispose pas encore de données précises en matière d’échocardiographie, d’IRM cardiaque ou de dosages sanguins des cytokines inflammatoires. Une situation qui devrait rapidement évoluer.

On le voit, les organes concernés par l’infection par le SARS-CoV-2 sont nombreux (poumon, intestin, cœur). Des lésions hépatiques et rénales ont également été décrites. Tout ne se limite donc pas dans le Covid-19 à une atteinte de l’appareil respiratoire (pneumonie) et de la sphère ORL (toux, anosmie, agueusie). Les données sur l’impact clinique de ce nouveau coronavirus s’accumulent à un rythme effréné et génèrent de nombreuses hypothèses sur les mécanismes en cause. Parallèlement, de nombreux essais cliniques de candidats-médicaments sont en cours ou programmés et plusieurs pistes vaccinales sont à l’étude.

Alors que la recherche progresse sur tous les fronts, les messages de prévention, particulièrement envers les personnes les plus fragiles, sont en revanche toujours les mêmes : se laver les mains régulièrement et observer une distanciation sociale.

Marc Gozlan (Suivez-moi sur Twitter, sur Facebook)

* Peptide natriurétique NT-proBNP : fragment N-terminal du proB.

** La présence d’une pathologie cardiovasculaire préexistante peut favoriser la survenue d’une atteinte cardiaque lors de la maladie Covid-19, comme l’a souligné une étude chinoise parue dans le New England Journal of Medicine le 28 février. En comparaison avec les survivants, les cas mortels étaient plus fréquents parmi les patients présentant une hypertension, un diabète, une maladie coronarienne.

Le 3 mars, une étude chinoise publiée dans la revue Intensive Care Medicine a également analysé les facteurs associés à la mortalité. L’existence d’une maladie cardiovasculaire était plus fréquente chez les patients Covid-19 qui étaient décédés (13 sur 68) que chez ceux qui avaient survécu (0 sur 82). Parmi 68 cas mortels, 36 étaient décédés d’une insuffisance respiratoire, 5 d’une atteinte cardiaque et d’une insuffisance circulatoire et 22 de causes respiratoire et cardiaque, 5 autres d’une cause indéterminée.

Chez ces patients porteurs d’une pathologie cardiovasculaire préexistante, l’intense réaction inflammatoire peut avoir de sérieuses conséquences. En effet, sous l’effet de l’inflammation généralisée, les plaques inflammatoires d’athérosclérose auraient plus tendance à se rompre, entraînant l’obstruction d’une artère coronaire. De même, l’inflammation peut entraîner une augmentation de la coagulation du sang, pouvant se traduire par la formation d’un caillot sanguin au niveau de la zone de rupture d’une plaque d’athérome. Là encore, source de complications (notamment embolie pulmonaire) chez ces patients fragiles.

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