#want you to say { chang daehan } | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

countryshitposts · 5 years ago

Text

You're Shooting Your Bullet The Wrong Way

The Entirety of Your Life Belongs to Your Dear Mother

Countryhumans Mafia AU.

AO3 Link

Trigger Warnings; murder, death, violence, shootings, guns, mentions of rape, assault and prostitution

Name Guides;

Nippon Teikoku- Japan Empire

Nippon Koku- Japan

Daehan Minguk- South Korea

Choson Inmin- North Korea

Daehan Imsi- Korean Provisional Government

Daehan Jeguk- Korean Empire

Nabi- Colonial Korea, belongs to @redffeather

"Please, we need to find my mother!" The teenager says as he rests his elbows on to the department's desk, and America pinches the bridge of her nose as another sigh erupts from her.

(If America had to pinpoint where the whole agency started to take the whole Teikoku thing seriously and making him public enemy number one, it had to be here.)

"Look kid, our hands are full with loads of cases", America replies, not even glancing to the direction of the grovelling teenager and his uncle, who was rubbing his shoulders to calm him down. "Especially with a lot of mafia cases popping up lately, I believe that a missing woman ain't our number one priority."

"What my sister is trying to say", Canada jumps in, simply because of the fact he thinks that America saying truthful words is more criminal than the problems they are facing, "is that we will solve the case of your mother once we solve the problems evolving around the whole city." He gives her a pointed look but she rolls her eyes- her brother would do anything to prove her wrong.

"What's your name again, young man?", Philip asks the boy in front of the desk as he enters the reception desk with a notepad. "To remember your plea."

(America knows that once the boy files his name into the notepad Philip would tear the paper and burn it.)

"Daehan Minguk", the boy replies with a small stutter, and he points to the man with him, "this is my uncle, Daehan Imsi."

Philip nods, "Is he your only family?"

"No. I have a mother, Nabi- she was taken by a mob boss many years ago-"

"Wait a minute", Canada holds out a hand to stop Minguk's rambles. "Your mother was taken by a mob boss? Who, may I ask?"

"His name was Teikoku", Imsi speaks up, jaw hardening and a hand subconsciously lingering on his shoulder like it holds his most painful memories. America perks up at that name, and so do the others in the police station. "He murdered my brother - Daehan Jeguk - and Nabi had to... abide to him." His voice becomes strained as he wipes away a tear that had escaped the prison of his eye. "I told her that she didn't need to, but she tells me to run with the twins before she was dragged away by that bastard, and I never saw her since."

"Wait, Minguk had a twin?" Philip scribbles briefly on his notepad before pointing the pen to the uncle-nephew duo.

Imsi nods, "His name is Inmin, but he left our home to join a mob as he becomes more desperate to find his mother." There was a slight edge in his voice, as if that is not the only thing about Inmin they need to know- on the other hand, Minguk was quick to change the subject from his brother; he rambles on about the spots where he had previously looked for Nabi, with Canada reassuring that justice will be brought to his family while Philip nods agreeably as he takes more notes.

In the meanwhile, America looks at them with a bored look on her eyes as she disinterestedly fiddles with her pen. She had remembered being involved in a mafia mob, once- her father was a mob boss and devours territory after territory before settling with her mother for a night and having her. She didn't have much memories of it since her father keeps her from such affairs until even when he was arrested of his crimes. He remembers embracing her before the trial, before he is declared life in prison and she and her siblings bid her goodbye.

And three weeks later America discovers her father had broken out of jail, with no news of where he went.

"... America!" She blinks once again, looking around and seeing that the two were already gone, replaced with Australia and New Zealand who were handling paper documents.

"What?", she snaps at them with a scowl, completely annoyed at the fact that they decided to wake her from her dream produced out of boredom.

"We were talking about the Teikoku case", Canada says, cup of coffee in his hand. "About what we're going to do to him and his colleagues."

America groans, "So you guys are really taking this case seriously now, huh? All because of a son wanting his mother to come back..." She catches the cup of coffee sliding towards her and takes a sip of it, savouring its bitter taste on her tongue.

"Not only that", Kiwi replies with a sigh, "there's been a rivalry brewing within all mafia mob clans this time. A... territorial feud."

"Territorial feuds are the reason why dad got arrested", America crosses her arms, pursing her lips at the memory. "Alright, what's the recent news of the mobs?"

"Two mobs - Poland and Reich - had exchanged bullets today near the public square", Australia responds as he points to a sector of the map, "reason was that Reich accused rival mob boss of murdering a colleague of his."

"Wait a minute- Reich?" America tries to remember who had the name before her mind clicks to the one family of the Deutsches. They had been a rampant mafia family when she was just a nobody officer, but they heavily weakened to the point the former - and late - mob boss of the family, Deutsches Reich, had to run away to another city. "Didn't the last one die and leave his incompetent son in place?"

"Weimar's records seem to have been erased from every company he seems to have been, it seems." Australia fiddles around another stack of papers. "And replaced with Reich's records. Strange, since his kids, West and Ost still have their birth certificates intact."

"That's another mystery the others will solve", America replies, brushing the case off of her shoulders. "I'm talking about how Canada doomed us all by promising two people that we can return their mother to them."

Canada scoffs, crossing his arms, "And we will get his mother back from Teikoku."

"Canada, Teikoku's mob is one of the most dangerous mafia groups I have ever seen in my entire life." America leans back on her chair with a huge sigh, like she has done a lot other than sit on the same chair and answer calls all day.

"But you love danger, don't you?" She stops, feeling Canada's glee from a mile. Her mind tells her she's been caught in her own game and now she actually has to work in this operation to break into Teikoku's most private grounds.

America jumps back to proper shape. "First of all, I ain't seducing Teikoku to the point he spills his disgusting secrets down to the floor."

Canada's smirk grows wider. "We aren't telling you to let the asshole fuck you, my god."

"Does the guy have any relatives outside of him, himself and he?"

"He does", Kiwi starts, flipping through another load of documents. He starts to spread photos of the selected individuals around the desk. "Alright so apparently his father was the former billionaire Tokugawa Shogunate. His mother was a prostitute-turned wife named Edo, and he has two brothers, Tokyo, and Koku- the latter happens to be his half-brother, whose mother is Azuchi-Monoyama."

America blinks wildly at the two pictures of both Koku and Teikoku. Their eyes were as grey as a dark rain cloud over the horizon, threatening to spill its tears into the buildings, their hair as dark as night and smoothed into perfection (Koku's hair was longer than Teikoku's much uptight one though), their face shape more refined and so similar, even more than Tokyo, who was Teikoku's whole brother. The only things that were different is the aura they perceive; Teikoku wants respect and fear, eyes shining with dozens of ambition and malicious intent, while Koku's shine with some form of kindness and perceived innocence, like he has never done something wrong his entire life.

"They look like twins", America states matter-of-factly, and her brothers all roll their eyes at her statement.

"Yeah, which is the reason why Teikoku likes him even more than his own kids." Kiwi takes out two more pictures, "two daughters, one son; Hokkaido - mother is Ezo - Palau, and Okinawa, whose mother is the lost Ryūkyū."

"Testaments from Teikoku's colleagues and victims state that he's quite fond of his brother too", Aussie replies. "Well, someone has to bribe Koku into their bidding." He gives a pointed look at America and she scowls.

"I have a bet that Koku's his second-in-command", Canada says. "It's why he's in Teikoku's good graces."

"Well then", America stands, cup of coffee on her hand, "we'll talk about it with the others later, on what we're going to do with Teikoku's mob."

"Tell me, Minguk", Philip says in a much softer voice as he takes out his notepad. "Can you remember how they took your mother?"

Minguk was sitting, legs wide as his hands clasp together, expression looking mournful like a baby animal crawling back to their dead mother which had become victim to the cruel clutches of the circle of life, but the youngling must continue and will fall the same fate as their mother. He takes a deep breath, looking at Philip and everyone else in the room before exhaling loudly, sweat dripping from his forehead like he was forcefully being interrogated by a crime he has or has not committed.

"I was eight, when it all happened..."

"Hurry Minguk!", his mother's soft voice echo through the long and winding alleyways, but his little feet was not enough to carry him through a long and treacherous journey. He waddles as fast as he can, his family members a few steps ahead of him but it felt like they were running away from him now. Overwhelmed with the sense of fear and dread in his senses, eyes staining with tears he fell over and starts to cry, only to be scooped up by his father, who caught up with Nabi - who has Inmin - and Imsi.

He hears loud sounds coming from the corner they had just turned, and he couldn't help but shake a little as his little body snuggled more into his father's shirt, who was sweating much but it was fine, his father is scared, from the way his heart starts to thump.

"Appa, what's happening?" Minguk's small voice finds its way to his father's ears, and between huffs he answered.

"It's nothing, Minguk... there are bad people chasing us... but we can get away from them." There was a small loss of hope in the last sentence, something Minguk notices but did not get; they will get out of here, from the bad man chasing them away from their home.

Another loud BANG! sounds from behind the corners and with a choked cry of pain his father falls down and Minguk yelps, his fear starting to form. He lands on the hard ground as strange liquid comes out of his father's head.

"Appa? Appa!", Minguk shouts as he crawls towards his father's sleeping body, nudging at him to wake up. "Appa, it's no time for sleep, remember? Please wake up!" The young boy touches the part of his father's head pouring out the strange red liquid; it was thick and somewhat slimy, and it crawls onto his hands and clothes with a sense of vengeance. He hears Eomma scream from somewhere ahead of them and feels himself being scooped up by familiar warm arms. He struggles against her strong arms, shouting and kicking and getting the liquid from Jeguk's body into her sleeves. He needs to be there for his father when he wakes up, he needs to tell him what has happened.

"We need to leave now, Nabi", Imsi says, carrying Inmin's small frame, his younger brother looking at Appa's body with wide eyes.

(Why is uncle asking them to leave? Appa is sleeping on the ground!)

Eomma does not listen, as Minguk feels her shaking, trying to hold him as she falls to her knees and her chest heaving as she releases her nerve-racking sobs, making the whole world turn dark and blurry. Even Minguk wishes to cry too, as he tugs on her sleeve and keep inquisitively telling her what is happening, but it was as if a shield went through her and blocks out all the noise he is making. He tugs on her sleeve, on her dress and tries to uncover her face which are now being covered by her wet palms. Imsi's voice is now a muffled and distant whisper.

A small tsk tsk tsk starts to sound from in front of them, and a man kicks Jeguk's slumbering body away from them both. Minguk feels anger inside of him as he lets go of his mother - he hears her shout at him to go back to her arms - and to the towering and standing man above him.

"Oh Chōsen.", the bad man says, snickering and smirking all the way, looking at his mother. "You have no idea how much I wanted to do this."

"Jeguk paid his debt!", Eomma says through choked sobs, still looking at his father's body like she has just lost something dear to her. "Why would you do this?!"

Teikoku shrugs, as he looks at Minguk with those empty, gray eyes, before smiling maliciously back at Eomma. "For entertainment; I've been bored these past few weeks, and I figured I needed something to enlighten me."

"By killing my husband?! Putting my family in danger?!" She scoops up Minguk from where he was standing and he did not fight, as he feels his mother's heartbeat quicken.

"It doesn't have to be like this." The man steps on Appa's corpse like it was just a bump in the road, a speed bump and Minguk doesn't like it as he grits his teeth. He wants to fight him, he really does.

He pulls Minguk away from Eomma, who was now reaching for him with a small plea in her face, but Teikoku kicks Minguk away like a small animal. He starts to cry as he feels the rocky ashphalt come contact with his face and he feels two arms scoop him up, and now he is with Inmin. He massages the gash on his cheek as he looks at Eomma and Teikoku in horror.

Teikoku pulls Eomma up, her frame shaking as he puts his arms around her waist and pulls her closer into her. Eomma's eyes widen as she hears him speak and starts to cry even more than before, with uncle shaking his head.

"Nabi, don't- AGH!" Another bang sounds from the gun Teikoku was holding, straight through Imsi's shoulder, as he drops both Inmin and Minguk to the crowd, with both of them embracing each other for comfort. His ears were ringing from the loud sound, heart racing, as he closes his eyes.

When his eyes open, Eomma and the bad man were not there anymore.

Philip hands Minguk a tissue as he finishes his story, tears streaming down his face like a river with a thousand currents, the tear drops dripping into his jacket like rain in the most calming of mornings before it turns to solemn ones as the clouds go grey and dark as night, no sun to help them survive. Minguk wipes his face, sniffling a little, as everyone in this room share furtive glances with each other on what they were now about to do.

Canada casts America a look, and she crosses her arms while looking at him.

"Did you hear what Teikoku told Nabi?", Philip softly asks as he takes Minguk's hand like a father softly telling his son he had done nothing wrong.

(America can't blame him; Spain murdered his son in cold blood and now he's maddeningly trying to implant himself as a father figure to all he meets.)

"I didn't, but now, I do", his face hardens, resolve becoming more firm, "Teikoku had asked for her body for our freedom."

The entire room is silent; not even the air conditioner's buzz can penetrate nor shatter it. Philip tells Vietnam with a glance to take note and she does. America's throat was dry with anxiety, palms sweating and she didn't know why- she decides it was the officers' breathes, on how they were going to handle this situation and how they will plan this suicide mission out.

Canada speaks first, his voice deep, loud and firm to get everyone's attention. "Records state that Teikoku has brothels all over the city. Some has to infiltrate them, and others have to infiltrate his home."

Write; that is what Koku does in his spare time. Write anything that is on his mind with no hint of stopping as he scribbles on any piece of paper to write the words in his mind- be it inquisitive questions to everyday life, general snippets his brain manages to think of as he does work or chores (and he'd hate how he would forget the structure and saying of the words once he is now seated on a table with a piece of paper on his hands), or even the shortest of stories or little prompts his mind gears generate and letting his writing skills be honed for the best. He studies the short sentence he had made for the fourth time, before crumpling it and throwing the paper into the bin.

(His brother had gifted him a laptop on his birthday three years ago, but he rarely uses it unless it's around Teikoku or when he needed something for printing.)

A small butterfly perches on his window, and he smiles peacefully, a sigh on his lips as he stares at its wings, a fiery blaze of fire like familiar ambitious eyes staring back at him before fluttering away, only to be eaten by a bird nestling into the tree. Koku cringes as he hears the crunch of the butterfly, before deciding what he'll write next.

In the meanwhile, Teikoku takes a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it and putting the damn thing in his mouth, as he looks at the documents on his table with a content look on his face. His gray eyes look up for a moment to check what time it is in the window displayed in front of him, before his cigarette drops to the ground, mouth agape.

In front of his window are a swarm of butterflies, seemingly looking at him with those little delicate wings of theirs.

#countryhumans #mine #writing #ameripan #countryhumans america #countryhumans japan #countryhumans australia #countryhumans canada #countryhumans japan empire #countryhumans colonial korea #countryhumans kpg #countryhumans korean empire #countryhumans north korea #countryhumans south korea #countryhumans new zealand

25 notes · View notes

jinniesxlamp · 6 years ago

Text

Goodbye, Hello - Chapter 4

LIST OF CHAPTERS –> Masterlist

Surely, the scortching rays of sunlight that penetrated through every grain of sand, and the outside temperature of thirty one degrees celsius were more than enough to precipitate a gushing amount of sweat pouring endlessly out of thirty-plus bodies scattered along the beachside of Pyeongchang.

The torturous heat stretching across the unsure filming site only gave out the least apprehension; The nerve-wracking, heart-stopping sound of each 'cut’ that was relentlessly made over twenty times in a span of five minutes; The sharp, vulturous eyes of the impatient woman standing by the director, eyeing the entire vicinity with grave intimidation. Now these...these were the big stressors.

What felt like an eternity of both verbal and non-verbal tension finally ended as the first scene was finally perfected. The heavy, displeased sigh that had come from the woman in front of the disappointing crew caused a drought in everyone’s throat; one that was enough to prevent them from speaking.

“After the fifteen minute break, gather around in one area before proceeding with the next scene” demanded the woman.

“Wae?” Asked one of the younger crew members who in return received threatening looks from his colleagues. He didn’t really have to add more insult to the injury.

If it weren’t for the phone call that basically just saved them from an hour-long sermon and what-not, that poor boy would have had his first taste of what the rest of the staff would pertain to as “it-was-nice-knowing-you” conversation with the boss.

Y/N’s POV

Everything about this day was frustrating to say the least. I was never really called in to do site visits unless bad problems occurred, which unfortunately was the case today. I came two hours early to the office to finish two stacks of paperwork, not to be sent three hours away from Seoul because of a highly disorganized filming location and incompetent staff who had to be tamed.

Somedays I wish I wasn’t the problem fixer.

The young boy who had the audacity to answer back in that tone made me twitch another nerve, lucky for him Chairman Byeon had called, again.

“Yeoboseyo, Chairman Byeon” a heavy, displeasing yet predictable sigh was the first thing I could hear. What is it this time.

—

Yoongi’s POV

Two weeks. That’s how long it has been since we’ve started airing Champion Trainee Season 2, a talent show featuring trainees from agencies all over South Korea who competed for the title of “Champion Trainee”. Each season focused on different aspects talent-wise. Season 1, which aired over a year ago was in search for the best vocals among the younger ones. This season’s focus was rap, and that’s exactly the reason why I’m here. Why we’re all here.

Today was supposed to go by fast, or so we thought. In the two weeks-span, everything seemed to be in place, no disputes, no technical errors, nothing. Not a single problem was encountered. But today, the air that circulated around the vicinity was different. Maybe too different. Something was wrong.

Everyone was doing what they were expected to do; the stylists were in one corner, preparing the attires, some of the noonas were ironing while some were fiddling with the clothing. All the camera directors were also huddled in their stations, coordinating with the script writers and producers. The lights men and sounds personnel were doing their usual duties as well. It seems like a normal day to us, but we all know it wasn’t on their end.

“Museun il-iya?” All heads turned to Monsta x’s Jooheon who seemed to have noticed the oddness that was going around.

“Jinjja! I thought it was me. You feel it too right??” Jumped Got7′s Bambam announcing his own similar feelings.

“Why is everyone acting weird? It’s like they’re all nervous or something” Hwasa, who had been turning her head from all directions joined into the conversation as well.

Now that everyone had brought it up, the harder it was to ignore the little things that felt somewhat off, especially now that we’re barely just sitting backstage on our seats, waiting for the show to start.

“I think they lost something important” Lisa, who had just returned from walking around the studio joined into the discussion we were having.

“I heard one of the producers talking on the Phone with Park In Jung, she said something about a License” Chaeyoung, who was tailing Lisa continued, chewing on the manggae she had most likely grabbed from the snackbar

“License? Geuge mwoji?”

“It must be their License to Operate.” I said, answering Jooheon who had an even more puzzled look on his face.

“Oh! That would make sense. I would be nervous too if I had lost that thing” said Loco.

“What does that mean, Oppa?” Asked Hwasa

“It means that we’re illegally operating right now if they lost that thing.” Sounded an unfamiliar voice, making all of us to turn back to its direction.

“Ehhh?!” Bambam, who clearly was starting to get nervous about the whole situation yelped.

“But don’t worry, someone is coming in to take care of it. I just thought we would let all of you know.” The young man, who we later on learned was one of the producers gave us a reassuring nod.

After introducing himself as Im Daehan, he right away told us about how Park In Jung couldn’t come in today due to a same-day meeting he had all the way in Jeju Island. Hence, adding more difficulty for the staff to fix the current issue.

“Is that why everyone seems so restless? Because In Jung isn’t here and the License incident?” Hwasa who seemed to be the most curious about this whole situation inquired some more.

Somehow, her comment seemed to force out a heavy sigh from Daehan. One that sparked more interest from all of us.

“I want to believe it is....but it’s not, actually.” The young producer smirked, eyebrows raised, hand behind his neck, massaging it in distress.

“What do you mean?” Jooheon questioned.

Before anyone else could make another sound, the noticeable change in Daehan’s facial expression was enough to catch our attention.

“You’ll see why” he said as he ran forward to where the door was, greeting the body that had just walked in.

A woman. I could barely picture her face, the mix of both darkness and random beams of light made it difficult for me to see anything clearly from a distance. But what I did notice though, was the change in behavior of everyone else inside the room. Everyone, except us seven. Jaws clenching, throats drying, mouths shut and bodies stiffenning—like statues. So this was the reason.

It’s her.

Who was this woman?

Allowing my sense of sight to adjust without force, I started to see clearly after a few blinks. She wore a baby blue sundress that flowed until her knees, revealing milky white skin below it. Closer, I thought. I was curious to know who she was.

The next five steps she took already gave me a sustainable view of her neckline, revealed through a decent v-cut on the midline of her chest. Until they made a stop by the well-lit snackbar that stood only eight feet from where we were, the rest of her features were still slightly unclear. Slowly, they began unblurring.

Long, brown hair—strong, furrowed brows—eyes that could demand authority towards anything it met—stern, but soft-looking peach pink lips that remained still and quiet.

That’s all there was to picture. That’s all I thought there was...until I noticed something familiar. In fact, too familiar. A white gold pendant dangled along her neck, glistening from the perfect contrast of her pale, white skin. I’ve seen this pendant before.

Years ago. Five years ago.

It can’t be. Can it?

“Oh. Isn’t that the lady that came on the first day?” Suddenly my moment of hysteria paused, turning to where Chaeyoung was.

“It’s Y/N.” Scoffed Jooheon, smirking as his arms folded across his chest.

That name.

Just when that started to resonate inside my head over and over, a certain scene from weeks ago flashed before my memory. It was when I was going over the show guide that I had encountered that name.

So it is her.

Y/N’s POV

Within a six hour time frame, a total of seventy three people have drained me of all my energy that could’ve sufficed for another ten hours. First I was sent to Pyeongchang to fix one site’s problem, and not even an hour after I had gotten there I was sent back to Seoul to cover for In Jung to fix another site’s problem.

Taking a tremendously deep, exhausted breath, I wanted to scream inside this small, secluded room where I spent almost an hour and a half making phone calls to secure another copy of the License to Operate in this vicinity.

“Naega michingeoya” I whispered to myself, rubbing my face with both my hands, pushing my hair back afterwards.

Leaning back on my chair, I rested my sight on the piece of bundled paper that sat right in front of me. It was a list of names for everyone involved in this project.

“Come in” I said calmly as I heard a knock on the door. It was Soojin.

“Y/N, a few people want to see you. Can I bring them in here?” Peeking her head over the small opening made by the door, she asked.

I nodded carelessly. While waiting for ‘them’ to enter, my gaze shifted back to the bundle of paper. Sliding it towards my direction, I began flipping over the pages, going over names I’m already familiar with until I heard another knock on my door.

“Come in” I said, eyes still fixed on the sheet I was reading.

“Annyeonghaseyo”

Said a voice that was too ecstatic for my day. Paying almost no attention to the visitors, I continued to scan over the list that had four more names to be read.

Then, my heart stopped.

Min Yoongi (방 탄 선 연 단)

“Hello” said another voice.

“How have you been?”

In that moment, I felt everything around me slowing down hearing only the very distinct noises—the ticking of the wall clock, roars of heavy machines from outside, and the shuffling of papers that I was holding, the rest were muffles and murmurs.

There was an unusual weight that pulled my head down, unwilling to meet the eyes of the person right in front of me. But I managed to fight the feeling.

“Hello” I said with feign confidence.

How long has it been? Three? Four? Five?

Five years.

I could still remember vividly the last time I had met those eyes, the feelings it had brought me until the very last goodbye. Surprisingly, the memory appeared as though they were fresh that I remember every second of it. All of it but the feeling. My heart no longer recognizes anything from his blank eyes. No hurt nor anger, and especially not love. Nothing.

“Jugiyo”

Sounded another set of voice, it was Soojin.

“The attorney is here to see you.”

“Oh, grae. I can see him.”

“Joesonghabnida, there’s an important matter I need to accommodate. I hope you understand” looking at both Jooheon and Yoongi, I apologized before having Soojin escort them outside.

Yoongi’s POV

Eventually the day had ended even after the midday plight. The rest of the day was spent on a chair, commentating, scoring and applauding the contestants. Something that didn’t really require physical efforts, causing me to ask myself: Why am I always tired at the end of the day?

Walking myself to the parking lot as soon as I had bid goodbye and said my thank yous to the staff and crew, the only thought that lingered inside my head was a hot pot of kimchi jjigae on the center of our dining room table with steam running towards the ceiling. It was our fifth year anniversary today. The boys are at home, waiting for me to finish so we can have dinner together. As soon as the thought of stew faded, replaced with those boys’ faces, I heard a loud ring coming from my left pocket.

“Are you on your way?”

“Oh. I’ll be there in ten minutes”

“Arasso. Drive safe!”

I had gotten to the parking lot right after I ended the call with Jin hyung. Halfway through opening the door of my black Audi, I started hearing resounding footsteps that potentially came from a pair of high heels. But of course, it wasn’t that that delayed me from entering my vehicle. It was the voice that came with it.

“De, Chief Byeon. De. We have the new copy. De. I’ll work on it in the morning.”

Leaning my back on the cold metal of my door with both hands tucked inside my pockets, I watched as she ransacked her purse, struggling to find what I assumed to be her car keys while she answered her phone that she clipped between her ears and her shoulders. Tossing her purse and the rest of what she was carrying into the passenger’s seat, I attempted to initiate another conversation before she entered her own car.

“How are you? You didn’t get the chance to answer me earlier”

I could tell she was completely unaware of me being here as she stopped halfway into stepping her foot in.

“This is unexpected for the both of us. I’m surprised to meet you here as you are to see me. Am I right?” I asked again as she seemed to ignore my previous question.

“Andwae. I knew I’d see you again sometime soon. The industry is small, after all. But you on the other hand....never in your whole life would you have imagined our paths crossing again this way.”

An amused grunt, along with a usual smirk was my only response upon detecting the masked chicness and sarcasm between her syllables.

“As your friend for many years, may I at least know how you’re doing?” Again, I asked, making a third attempt.

“Friend?” she grunted back, something that actually caught my attention.

“If this was based on my own preference, then no, you may not know how I’m doing--”

She continued, not even sparing me a glance.

“--I hope you don’t confuse our past affairs with the present, we are not friends.”

Astounded with the words that were spiking out of her, I couldn’t cease myself to stop and look at her with brows furrowed. I have never, ever experienced this with this woman before. This woman who I’ve known for many, many years and was even intimately involved with for a reasonable time being.

“--but since it’s been a long time since last we’ve seen each other, consider this as a gift--”

“--I’m doing very well, Min Yoongi”

Once again she started to step inside her car, leaving me completely unnerved. And then, before closer shutting the door, she turned to me with an unfamiliar look on her face. I could no longer picture the same woman I once knew, this wasn’t her anymore.

“Goodbye.” she said, confidently.

I watched as she took off in a silver BMW X1, disappearing from the first corner towards the exit.

“Goodbye.” I said, five years ago.

“Goodbye.” She said, five years later.

Who would’ve thought that that foolish word would only mean ‘We’ll see each other again.’

3 notes · View notes

riseofarmy · 3 years ago

Text

03 | DO YOU EVER LOOK AT SOMEONE AND WONDER

i can do this all day 03 | do you ever look at someone and wonder

author : @riseofarmy

pairing : kim seokjin x original character

words : 2533

i can do this all day masterlist

previous chapter

SEOKJIN

How isn't she tired yet?

I'm tired, and I've only been floating behind her for the last three-ish hours. When she first noticed that I was laying on air, her dumb cat hissed at me, but she just widened her eyes for a second before ignoring me.

Maybe she's just been desensitised by all the stuff she got sprung with today.... which is strange because people usually come looking for the lamp knowing there's a djinn inside. Then again, it's been a while since I've been awaked this far in the past, and it's further in the future that people know about the 'genie' myth.

I know that my first few masters summoned me one after another, but somewhere along the line, I started serving people from all different times. That stunning suit I had on before was made for one of the most popular boy groups of the 21st century, but I hadn't considered that I would be so far back in time that it would be ridiculed.

I still can't believe that: my master tried to kill me, then barely two minutes later made fun of my sexy jacket and oh my god, I don't even know her name.

"Oh my god, I don't even know your name." The little terror on her shoulder stares at me with its dumb, beady eyes.

"Darling." She didn't even turn to me when she answered.

"What?"

"My name. It's Darling. Darling Surya".

Darling. I size her up, running my gaze over her. Her face was a little plain, but it looked downright fierce with her buzz-cut and wicked jawline. Paired with her long jacket and the general get-out-of-my-way vibe she gives off, she doesn't seem like a Darling at all.

"Darling? Is it weird when some random person calls you darling without realising it's your name?"

"I had been using the name Surya while I pretended to be a man, so I've never had to experience that." Wow, plot twists be like.

"Why did you pretend to be a man?"

"Because all women are good for is marriage, and I needed a job to save up money so I could come here."

Yikes, alright then. I have a feeling she's always this intense.

She has my interest piqued though, and I keep asking her questions. She's blunt at first, obviously preoccupied by something else, but eventually she relaxes enough to give me more detailed answers. I even suck up my dislike to her dumb cat and float beside her instead of behind, and she doesn't seem to mind.

I learn that her father is from Daehan-Minguk and her mother from Paaratham (modern-day South Korea and India respectively, which explains her darker skin) and that she was a heavy labourer for two years to save up money to move from Paaratham to Daehan-Minguk.

She explains that the king is an asshole - making downright treasonous comments about him throughout - and that we were currently going to his son's birthday ball.

She doesn't tell me why we're going, though, because supposedly she's 'still sorting it out', but it must be something serious since she dances around the question with a tight expression until I ask her about her cat.

It's a little strange to just talk like this.

I always make sure to learn about each of my masters so I can serve them better. Darling, though... she one of the few who I can say don't feel like a master. Most of the others went straight to telling me everything they would do with the money they were going to wish for themselves, or the apparently tragic stories that made them so deserving of the power they wanted.

Darling, just talked about her parents and Yoongi a lot, and even asked me questions about being a djinn.

She was baffled when I told her I've served people from different times, mouth dropping and fingers tightening on the lamp which she still held in her hand, and she wanted to know what the world is like in the future. When I told her about phones, though, she decided I was making it up and asked something else.

Still, it felt nice to talk to Darling. Nice enough that another hour and a half passed without me noticing, and soon enough, dusk had fallen and we were approaching the nearest town.

"I know an inn nearby, but I'm not sure how people would react if they saw someone in the air. I think you should stop floating for a bit." Darling looks pointedly at me until I set my feet on the ground with a huff.

"Silly humans and your non-floating ways. Do you realise how much of a time-waster walking is?"

"My bad, Seokjin. I'll make sure that next time I'm born as a genie." My lips curl into a grin of their own accord at her response, and I see her own do the same out of the corner of my eye.

The streets of the town are busy, but Darling navigates them fairly easily. It becomes more and more apparent, though, that there is currently something going on - people are bustling around busily, and Darling looks increasingly worried until we finally end up in front of an inn.

Inside, I immediately understand why Darling looked troubled - the inn is almost overflowing with people. Darling runs a hand over her buzz-cut and pushes the lamp deep into her pocket, then tells me to wait in the corner while she talks to the innkeeper. I try to follow her anyway, but she gives me a wicked glare and leaves her cat next to me so I stay put.

"What are you looking at?" The cat doesn't even blink, just lays down next to my feet. It doesn't seem to mind when I crouch closer to it, so I give its fur an experimental poke.

It opens its eyes lazily, slowly flicking its tail in my direction until I give it another poke, soft this time. Dumb cat. I could make you disappear from existence right now and you wouldn't even realise. As if sensing my thoughts, the cat bats at my hand, but then lets me pat it again.

"Yoongi likes you." Darling, who appeared without me even realising, looks down with sickeningly love-filled eyes at the cat.

"He what now?"

"Yoongi. He doesn't like anyone touching him except me, but he seems to be okay with you."

"Oh. Well, that's too bad for him because I hate cats."

"If you say so." She raises her eyebrows as if she doesn't believe me, but before I can reaffirm that no, really, I hate cats, she jerks her head to the stairs that I think lead to the rooms. "It's good we came here first, because the other inn is already full. There's a festival in Mansae the day before the ball, so people are staying here on their way to it and there's only one room left here. You okay with that?"

"I live in a lamp, Darling, I'm sure I can manage." She gives me a small smile and hikes her rucksack up before picking up her cat.

The innkeeper comes to us with a very capitalist smile and leads us to our room. He doesn't shut up, somehow managing to fit his life story, three comments about how 'we're never been this busy' and even an offer for me to marry his daughter in the two minutes he has our attention.

Darling just rolls her eyes when we're finally shown our room, and I remember her words from before - 'all women are good for is marriage'. I wonder if the innkeeper's daughter knew she was basically being given away by her own dad.

"Seokjin!" I pop my head into the room, which Darling had already unlocked and was going through. It was just big enough for a bed, a small table with a chair, and a tub behind a bamboo screen to bathe in.

"Yeah?"

"We have to get to the palace by tomorrow afternoon, so we're leaving early." She grabs a pillow from the bed to fluff it before throwing it back down. "You sleep here, I'll take the chair."

I think the sight of me floating has completely disappeared from her brain. "Darling. Sweetheart. You are a human, and need sleep. I am a genie, and have my lamp and don't need to sleep. Take the bed."

Darling's hand had been hovering protectively over her pocket, but now she pulls the lamp out of it and glances up at me.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense. I thought you wouldn't be too thrilled at the idea of going back into your lamp so soon. Plus, I wasn't planning on sleeping."

That makes me pause, and I consider her predicament for a moment. Darling - visibly tired, stressed out and her mind obviously occupied by something that she's been turning over for who-knows-how-long, yet here she is offering me a bed. Me. A literal genie with my whole-ass magic thing going on. Because she thinks I would be sick of being in my perpetual home one more night. Cute.

Then I notice how tight her grip on the lamp is, and that's when something clicks in my brain.

Hah. I wonder if she realises how easy it is to read her.

"Interesting, Darling, but may I offer a proposition? You sleep on the bed, your dumb cat can do whatever, and I'll do my floating business. Win-win-win, am I right? Also, c'mere."

She widens her eyes warily when I hold my hand out for the lamp, but passes it over with some hesitancy.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust me, Darling."

I watch her expression morph from confusion to distress as I melt the golden lamp into a chain-link necklace. Taking a step closer to her, I reach across the space between us to loop the chain around her neck and seal the ends together so there isn't an opening to the necklace. The purple gem thing - even after all this time, I don't know what it is - rests just below her collarbone, glinting in the dim light from the candle we were given.

"There you go! Now you can sleep without having to worry about losing it! Wow! You can thank me now!" I smile at her, but she doesn't notice. She fiddles with the necklace experimentally, a frown bringing her eyebrows together.

"What if someone pulls it off?" How Darling of her, always going around ruining the mood with her silly questions.

"Nopsies, the only ones who can even touch it are you and me. And your stupid cat. And I'm the only one who can take it off you or change its shape, so hurry up and thank me you ungrateful shit." I smile wider, tilting my head in expectation, and the tiniest hint of a grin graces her lips.

"Thank you, Seokjin."

"You are absolutely welcome, Darling dear. Now sleep." Before she can say anything else, I push her onto the bed and tap her forehead. She doesn't even have a chance to look surprised before she's unconscious, fast asleep as the purple remnants of my magic curl around her head.

I pull a blanket over her and poke my tongue out at her dumb cat when it jumps up to sleep next to her. It ignores me.

Oh well.

"Look, Mansae will be in front of us in a second. We'll be able to see the sea too."

Darling draws my attention to the view ahead of me, where we're about to break through the forest's treeline.

She woke up at fuck-all o'clock to find me playing on my Nintendo, and barely ten minutes later we were out of the town and on our way to the palace. We avoided the main road until now by picking our way through the mountain, but we were close enough to the capital, Mansae that we couldn't avoid it any longer.

With one last turn, the palace is laid bare in front of us.

The main road snakes to the palace and the houses and markets that surround it, which were in turn set within a wide valley circled by the Mansae mountain range. Through the space between two of the mountains, we could see the faint glimmer of the ocean far away. The palace itself was a spread of white towers spearing the sky, the path leading to it choked with people weaving between markets.

We join the crush of people heading to the palace for Jungkook's birthday-and-wife-picking-ceremony and are instantly shoulder-to-shoulder with sweaty strangers. Darling's elbow digs into my side as we walk, but she's too focused on babying her dumb cat to realise. I bear with it until we reach the markets, but I can't stand it anymore.

"Darling your elbow has been jackhammering a hole into my ribs for an hour."

She practically rips her gaze away from her cat to look up at me. "Seokjin, I can promise you that you are not the only one in this crush of people with an elbow in your ribs. Still, sorry about that, I wish there wasn't so much of a crowd."

"Ohoho, is that your first wish?" I waggle my eyebrows at her jokingly, but she doesn't realise I'm only kidding.

"No! No, that is not a wish!" She seems to be visibly panicking, a flush climbing her throat as she splutters in her attempt to make sure her wish isn't used. Cute.

"Okay okay, that's not your wish, I get it. But uhh, now that we're on the topic... What is your first wish?"

"I'll tell you when it comes to it." Ah yes, Darling - putting up brick walls faster than you can ask her questions. This time, though, that's not an option.

"Nopesies, you have to tell me. Come on bestie."

"I will. If I need to. Do I really need to? Can't I just say it when I need it to happen?"

Some times, it's a real bother being the only smart person on a whole planet of dummies. But that's okay - I suck back my exasperation and hide it behind a tight smile.

"Okay. Look. Here's the deal, Darling. It's obvious to me by now that you are not going to wish for money or power or whatever else my masters usually want. If, when you make your wish, it isn't precise enough or it's something I can't grant, I will not know what to give you and that's a wish wasted. I need you to explain this big idea of your's, or else I literally cannot do my job properly, so please tell me: what is going on inside your head?"

The flush on her neck spreads to her face as she mutters something without meeting my eye, but I miss it because she says it so quietly.

"What was that?"

Squaring her shoulders, Darling turns and holds my gaze straight on. There's some emotion tightening her face that I can't fully decipher, something between agitation and determination

"I need you to make the prince fall in love with me."

i can do this all day masterlist

next chapter

0 notes

loveurn · 4 years ago

Text

bittersweet, oh love.

“you’re still here?”

it’s obviously not meant as harsh as it sounds. but it comes out judgmental anyway, because yuha’s brows are knitted close together when she walks into the studio, americano in her hand and jaw slack at the image of her senior on the couch.

kang is struggling to get himself together, back aching from the position he’d slept in, and eyes adjusting to the light suddenly flooding the studio. suddenly finding a passcode and lock for the studio sounds like a good idea. though, even then samuel would find a way in. as the youngest of the producing team he bounces from which of his seniors he likes to gather advice from and today - and it’d probably be harder to explain the situation to the younger but yuha. yuha is much too perceptive and kang is suddenly wishing for the presence of the hyperactive male or even donghyun with all his ideas and insecurities.

‘did you - did you sleep here?’ the room certainly smells slept in and even though some producers have spare pillows and blankets for late nights, this position looks far too comfortable to be accidental. yuha’s arms fold over her chest and she keeps her space at the door occupied in respect for his space and for him to get himself together.

‘yeah the - we were working on the kiddo’s album.’ “doe’s album released last week.” kang had attended the release party. ‘right well--’ it’s not often a staff member gets to see the kang fumble over his words and as iconic as this moment is, it leaves a dirty taste in yuha’s mouth. any thoughts of teasing or commenting on how he’s getting old don’t quite fit right. “did you session all night? with who? donghyun? did he keep you up in here for advice? or was it daehan escaping practice duties?” the man was well known for his strict studio sessions but also the abundance of advice that poured whenever someone such as a trainee or someone with surprising musicality bat their eyes towards him. he was softer than he realized. apparently to the point of neglecting his own health. yuha has half a mind to discuss donghyun’s sphere of producers with his managers as well as daehan’s practice regimen with his instructors. but she waits, because kang is finally - finally sitting and running a hand through his hair, admittedly he looks like he needs a long bath and coffee.

‘doe had some more ideas so i let her session late, i was editing some of the works for her and i must’ve lost track of time.’ it makes sense. it’s actually very on par for what he usually does, kang known for throwing himself into projects in the way most abc soloists are known for doing. still - it’s well known that kang has become rather attached to the new starlit of the company, her vocal tone being right up his alley and his decision to train her directly shocking nearly half the company.

it paid off though, the album being one of their most solid, diverse projects in a while. it’s because her genre is his style, and no one really questioned it. doe’s managers often have to drag her out the studio and they have to cut sessions when they overlap with other trainees or artists and meetings but it’s never been a problem. it shouldn’t be a problem.

but yuha has known kang longer than any trainee in the company, longer than the people who hired and brought him onto the team. so she watches the way he boots up his computer, mechanically checking for files like his eyes don’t burn for the comfort of a pillow and a bed.

“does your wife know you’re here?”

there it is. kang doesn’t budge to show that the words have any effect. he keeps the typing on the keys steady even if he’s just moving up and down the track lists. he keeps his hands busy, his eyes reading and picking up beats that occupied his mind last night.

‘she knows.’ “she knows you’re here or she knows you’re sleeping in the studio?” ‘consider she’s the one who doesn’t want me home right now, both.’

this is too much, it’s much too much for someone who hasn’t had their coffee but yuha knows this is the only time to get it out. it’s a cheap tactic but she’d had a hunch that he’d been spending longer than necessary in the studio and she’s worried. it’s why she took samuel’s offer and came on her own accord, knowing if samuel came they’d be occupied for another two days of this - mess.

“she kicked you out?” kang and his wife had problems. problems that stemmed from disagreements, resentments they went into marriage with, but it’s never built into this. sure he spent time away from home in the studio, sure he could be an escape at times, but not like this. the scoff that leaves his lips is answer enough that there is more to this than the normal marital problems. the only times kang gets this tense, really this tense is when discussing his marriage.

‘she seems to think i have a home elsewhere so she wouldn’t consider it kicking out.’

“explain.” so yuha takes a step inside, the door closing firmly behind her.

‘put simply? she doesn’t like how much time i spend here.’ “it wouldn’t be the first time yo spend time here though---” ‘her words were ‘at least you have the decency to fuck them there.’

yuha sputters, the words catching her off guard and coffee spurting from her lips. if there’s anything kang isn’t - he’s not oozing sexual activity. she knows the look very well and she’d definitely notice the change in him.

“excuse me? them? who does she think you’re fu----- oh.”

oh.

“that’s -- she’s - a whole decade younger than you.” ‘as if i had time to explain that while she screamed.’

it’s not unheard of, though yuha feels bad for thinking of it, it’s not completely foreign. the thing is, people who didn’t really know kang were probably prone to these thoughts, especially with his budding fascination with their newest artist. it was impossible, it was entirely and utterly impossible and a little disturbing to imagine but she remembers - kang and his wife do not understand one another at all. so the increased nights spent preparing for the album and even attending a release party, he’d become a close mentor to the younger woman and to the wrong pair of eyes - to the hazy pair of eyes it could seem ( however impossible ) it could seem, as if something else was going on.

“this is a little disturbing.” ‘don’t i know that.’

he’s discussing it rather nonchalant, though he might’ve had time to process this. he might’ve already vented his frustrations in his own way. yuha wonders just how long this has been going on.

“you need to go home, sleep in your bed.” ‘don’t i know that too? if i go home it’s to a riot.’ “better a riot to straighten out than nothing at all.” ‘you don’t know my wife.’ “no, but i know you.” it’s unhealthy and he’ll avoid the confrontation for as long as he can which will only end up with the studio smelling and him surviving on the cafeteria food and coffee until he eventually knocks out. that’ll be a story and yuha’s trying to prevent that. “talk to her.” ‘and say what? i’m not screwing my mentees? i shouldn’t have to.’ “apparently you need to. it’s obvious you have to do something.” it’s obvious there’s more there that needs to be unearthed. yuha doesn’t know all of it but she knows that with his nature it’ll just sit and fester, kang is a straightforward person so if he sees no problem and it isn’t brought up he won’t address it. he believes the accusations false, ludicrous so he doesn’t want to discuss it, and his wife? who knows what’s going through her mind. “besides, what happens if she starts sharing gossip with friends about this? you need to talk to her.”

it’s another cheap trick, using company status and the well-being of the artists to guilt him, but it’s probably all that will work given the situation.

‘jesus - you don’t think she would.’ “i think it’s not a chance to take.”

if there are any gears, she can see them start to turn now. he’s unfolded the ends of his hoodie from his face and let his head free from the hoodie. kang’s not the most stylish guy, he doesn’t quite stand out intentionally but he’s lanky, tall and seeing him so shrunk and agitated in the chair doesn’t sit well with yuha and it’s definitely going to be noticed by others - if it hasn’t been already.

‘alright...i’ll go home today.’ “you’ll go home and talk to her.” ‘i’ll go home and try to talk to her.’

it’s good enough. so, she turns on her heel to open the door. tunes have started to play from the computer and it’s either an indication that he needs his space right now or he’s feeling better. yuha won’t try to decode it she’s done enough for the day.

“i’ll go get that extra large americano for you.”

his response is a grunt, the closest to a thanks she can get. so she runs with it.

#abctingz.#cynic: yuha #melancholy: kang #ive wanted to write this for DAYS

0 notes

saranghacs · 6 years ago

Text

NOMBRE: Chang Daehan. OCUPACIÓN: estudiante de preparatoria. FANDOM: Propio. EDAD: 17 años. BROTP: Denme a los amigos plx. SHIP: @sxngenshiki FC: Jang Jeongin

Tiene dos mejores amigos, Haeyong y Jinhyeok, se conocen desde el jardín de niños, así que son muy unidos. Los tres son unos idiotas en general, pero no son del todo malas personas.

Daehan es el más imprudente, es bastante terco, y casi siempre no sabe cuando parar. Sin embargo, generalmente busca ganar algo bueno con lo que hace.

No es un estudiante modelo, pero es bastante bueno con los deportes, y es el capitán del equipo de baloncesto.

#( new muse ; )#sxngenshiki #más datos proximamente (?)#want you to say { chang daehan }

2 notes · View notes

miniyoonminsuji · 7 years ago

Text

Best of Me English Trans & Romanization

English Translation

When you say that you love me I walk above the clouds Tell me of eternity just one more time When you say that you love me All I need is that one phrase That you’ll never change, just one more time

You’re like the whole world to me Hug me harder and more painfully

The something that we shared And you can’t make it nothing I hope you don’t forget You’re my

Every day, every day Summer, winter Even though you may be unaware

You got the best of me You got the best of me So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

Even though I haven’t seen my limits But if it exists, it’s probably you I wanted it to be tender waves But why didn’t I know that you were the sea What do I do, I speak with your language And I breathe your air I’ll be you, you have me in your grasp I kiss your sword

So take my hand right now I don’t believe myself that I’m like this The words I said to myself a million times Please don’t leave me You got the best of me You got the best of me It’s not important that it’s a dream or a reality Only the fact that you’re by my side Thanks

Every day, every day Summer, winter Even though you may be unaware

You got the best of me You got the best of me So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

You are my savior, you are my window All I need is you You got the best of me I need you So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

I used to rain I used to snow I stop every misfortune And bring the heaven Don’t speak of it so lightly There’s no me without you You are my best of me The best of me

You just give me the confidence to myself That’s all I wanted There may not be rules between us But the way to love exists Who got the best of me? Who got the best of me? No one knows but I know me You are my best master

You got the best of me You got the best of me So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

You are my savior, you are my window All I need is you You got the best of me I need you So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

When you say that you love me I walk above the clouds Tell me of eternity just one more time When you say that you love me All I need is that one phrase That you’ll never change, just one more time

Romanization [Pre-Chorus: Jimin, Jungkook] When you say that you love me Nan haneul wireul geotne Yeongwoneul malhaejwo Just one more time When you say that you love me Nan geu han madimyeon dwae Byeonhaji anhneundago Just one more time

[Chorus: Jimin, Jungkook, V] Neon naege i segyeui jeonbu gata Deo sege apeuge nal kkwak kkyeoana Uriga nanun something And you can’t make it nothing Ijji anhajwosseumyeon hae Neon nae

[Hook: All, Jungkook] Haruharu Yeoreum gyeoul Neon mollado You got the best of me You got the best of me So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

[Verse 1: Rap Monster] Nado naui kkeuteul bon jeok eopsjiman Geuge issdamyeon neoji anheulkka Dajeonghan padogo sipeossjiman Niga badain geon wae mollasseulkka Eotteokhae neoui eoneoro mareul hago Tto neoui sumeul swineunde I’ll be you nal jwigo issneun neo Nan neoui kare ipmajchwo Geureoni

[Verse 2: Suga, J-Hope] Take my hand right now Ireon naega mitgiji anha Sogeuroman sucheon beoneun deo malhaesseossdeon geu mal Geudaeneun nal tteonaji ma You got the best of me You got the best of me Kkuminji hyeonsirinjineun ttakhi jungyochi anhji Geujeo niga nae gyeote issdaneun ge Thanks

Haruharu Yeoreum gyeoul Neon mollado

You got the best of me You got the best of me So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

Neon naui guwon neon naui chang Nan neoman isseumyeon dwae You got the best of me Niga piryohae So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

Biga naerideon na Nuni naerideon na Modeun bulhaengeul meomchugo Cheongugeul deryeowa Swipge malhaji ma Neo eopsneun nan eopseo Neon nae best of me The best of me

Geunyang nae daehan hwaksineul jwo Geuge naega baran jeonbuinikka Uriui gyuyureun eopsda haedo Saranghaneun beobeun jonjaehanikka Who got the best of me Who got the best of me Nugudo molla But I know me Nae choegoui juinin geol neon

You got the best of me You got the best of me So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

Neon naui guwon neon naui chang Nan neoman isseumyeon dwae You got the best of me Niga piryohae So please just don’t leave me You got the best of me

When you say that you love me Nan haneul wireul geotne Yeongwoneul malhaejwo Just one more time When you say that you love me Nan geu han madimyeon dwae Byeonhaji anhneundago Just one more time

SOURCE

#bts #bts her #bts love yourself #bangtan #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

2 notes · View notes

countryshitposts · 5 years ago

Text

You’re Shooting Your Bullet The Wrong Way

Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Death of a Bachelor

Trigger Warnings; murder, violence, blood

Name Guide

Nippon Koku- Japan

Teikoku Nippon- Japan Empire

Sulian- Soviet Union

Renmin- China

Choson Inmin- North Korea

Daehan Minguk- South Korea

Daehan Imsi- Korean Provisional Government

"Koku, our brother's calling us!" Koku lifts his head up from where he was loathing the words he had just typed on the keyboard, a small twinge of excitement in his face. He immediately closes the bright screen of the laptop and exits his bedroom, running down the long and winding stairs that he loved playing on when he was a sweer child, along with his older brother who'd accompany him.

He lands on the floors gracefully, seeing Teikoku staring at him with a huge smile on his face.

"Teikoku!", Koku exclaims, running towards his brother, laughing a little. He feels Tokyo's grimace from far away, giving him a sense of discomfort that will plague him for sometime before deciding that his brother is simply just jealous of the affection Teikoku gives to him.

(Sometimes he'd see the desolation in his children's eyes too; a spark of hope that Teikoku would move on from Koku so he could embrace them in such a filial way, and ocassionally, Koku would wonder why he wouldn't notice his own children.)

"How are you today?" Teikoku ruffles his hair and Koku - with a smile - protests against it.

"I'm fine, onii-chan!", he replies with a small laugh. "I'm finishing the latest chapter of the book I'm writing."

Teikoku chuckles, "Well, tell me if you're finished with the whole thing; I'd love to read it. But first let's have dinner, shall we? Manchukuo!" He calls onto his butler, who scuttles out of his room, all stumbling and awkward as he fixes his glasses.

(Koku thinks that Manchukuo should - say - be more prepared and look absolutely professional and impressionable, lest many think that their bodyguard... isn't a bodyguard and more like a chaperone who would read books and a cup of coffee in his spare time.)

"Yes, sir?", he stutters, causing Teikoku to frown up at him; Manchukuo fixes his tie and hair, leading it to become more dishevelled rather than kept, like a dog with fur sticking on their ends.

"Start the car. We're going to have dinner someplace else." Teikoku's tone was crisp- like he wanted to hit Manchukuo in front of everyone to humiliate him, showing how intolerant he is of his behaviour and the way he works. Manchukuo rapidly nods as he scampers towards the exit doors, Teikoku's eyes following him in an ill-mannered and impatient face; one second and he'll be shot at.

Koku smiles a little at Teikoku, whose frown turns upside down as he looks at his half-brother, the simplest speck of light in the cloud covered sky, reaching to the dark depths of the sea to pull out the orient pearl in the murky waters.

He looks at Koku brightly with a glint in his eyes, "Where would you like to have dinner, then?"

Koku shrugs, knowing full well that he's not fond of making decisions of his own. "Where do you want to go, Teikoku?"

Teikoku thinks for a moment before clicking his tongue. "There's this new restaurant that opened at the centre of the city; you'll adore it."

Koku nods, "And I trust your judgement."

("I don't", Tokyo whispers to Hokkaido, who hums affirmation, Koku barely catching their exchange before moving on.)

"Your ride is ready, sir", Manchukuo's head protudes from the front door, and Teikoku's mood immediately sours, already strutting to the doors, Koku and the others trying to catch up with his fast pace.

Manchukuo and Teikoku were busily talking - out of earshot - as Koku, Hokkaido and Tokyo busy tehmselves in the passenger seats (Okinawa sits on Hokkaido's lap, his half-brother steadying him).

He looks out the dark lenses of the windows, giving everything a much darker and subtle tone of sadness; from the evergreen shrubs Koku had planted years ago with his tiny hands, being helped by his brother as he works, turned to a much more darker shade of what has transpired.

The car ride was not annoyingly noisy to the ears nor unbearably silent- Manchukuo and Teikoku were making small talk in hushed voices, like a buzzing bee in Koku's ear thinking the small insect has hit jackpot before being swatted away by a large force. Okinawa was getting fussy on Hokkaido's lap, gurgling and wanting to be transferred towards Tokyo, who was silently reading, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, looking so much at peace.

Koku would sometimes envy at how... normal they seem to be around each other, like they are the best of friends who stick through even the most hardened times, and whenever they look at each other there was such understanding in their eyes, like they empathise in whatever way. And he remembers that whenever Teikoku arrives, they'd freeze up and halt their conversation, their eyes following after their own blood with fear, like he was a predator in their area full of prey. Like they were wary that Teikoku would turn his head to them with either a small smirk on his face, intent on humiliating them, or with an angry frown that'd mean it was the end of their world and he'd tear them apart until they were shreds of life.

They were awkward and wary around Koku too; a simple smile at their direction is enough to make them flinch or send them running to the other direction. Like he was Teikoku. Like he means harm and he needs harm to sustain his lifeline.

(He will never get why they are not fond of their own blood.)

So Koku sits in silence, grey eyes on the car's carpeted floors (credits to Teikoku).

Manchukuo parks the car in a spot where the sun never leaves them, always bothering them despite the fact it is being conquered by the moon and stars who wish to devour the light to make way for the darkness, and the dying sun forging its flames on the surface of the moon, mangled holes giving off the light the sun but weaker before it dies, and at twilight it rises back from the dead and the cycle continues.

"Ugh, the suns' reaching everywhere", Koku says as he exits the car, arm above his head and shades present underneath his eyes, the glaring light of the sun still escaping through the darkest filters of his innate boundary. "For a dying light against the sky, it's still annoyingly bright."

Teikoku laughs a little as he emerges from the car, "Don't worry, dinner's coming."

The brand new restaurant seems to be jam-packed, despite the fact that - according to Teikoku - it had just opened yesterday. Its huge windows reflect himself, his dark hair and pale complexion, striking gray eyes that looks through the reflections and into the thrums of people inside them; the people already comfortably seated on the seats around the tables, waiters and waitresses serving them their long-awaited dishes for the day, the chandelier above them glowing golden with its light bulbs looking more like waxed candles dancing with flames than inventions of electricity. It was enticing, and at the same time making Koku uncomfortable; for some reason he can never really be at peace with the notion of being in a place full of people, strangers- maybe it was because he only grew up knowing and getting used to only his family talking to him, so that talking to another person was now an act of force and a chore (although chores are much, much better than talking to a complete stranger).

Koku spent so much time admiring the place and daydreaming that he has - once again - built a glass dome, protecting himself from any disturbances that will disrupt his thought process and serenity, which can only be shattered like a vulnerable and pricey vase with one voice.

"Koku!", he feels a hand snake around his shoulders, and he jumps a little before instinctively calming down when he is faced with Teikoku's small smirk on his lips. "Daydreaming again, weren't you?"

Koku absently nods, his eyes turning back to the inside of the restaurant, its golden streaks of light looking much more realistic than it intends to be, making the whole venue all the more charming. "This place is beautiful."

Teikoku chuckles a little. "That it is- you want to go inside? I'd made a reservation a week ago."

"Of course I do!"

"Well then", Teikoku takes a step and Koku's feet follows, "let's go in, shall we?"

Once the door opens to let his family inside of the grandeur, he feels a rush of cool air collide with his warm cheeks, the scent of cooked food filling the air, jazz music playing from the speakers above them and small chatter reaching his ears. He hears the clinks of wine glasses and people laughing, trying to look and act their absolute best in the midst of formality. The sizzling of frying pans reaches Koku's ears too, as the door to the kitchen swishes back and forth like a baseball bat in a player's hands, ever so ready in a match and ever so used to the feeling of the hardened wood around his palms. The smell of the atmosphere makes him wonder if he could eat thin air; a mix of wine, roasted beef and many other specialties he can trace, lingering in the air as its smoky fingers play with their heartstrings one by one, being replaced with another, then another, then another.

Koku takes a seat right beside Teikoku, who was once again talking to Manchukuo in a hushed voice.

(Seriously, what are they talking about and why are they keeping the conversation from him? Was the question in his mind, along with others, but he swallows them down in fear of making his brother ultimately mad.)

So he keeps his eyes straight forward, eyeing every detail that catches his eye- that Okinawa is now playing with Tokyo and Hokkaido's wine glasses, making airplane noises; that the chandelier above them is swaying slightly as the air changes its course towards it; that a waiter is covering his face with a mask, hands clasped, leg bouncing impatiently, looking everywhere, turning his head left and right like he was expecting a guest- until at last, he looks right ahead at Teikoku before fast-walking to the kitchen's door...

Koku blinks, his eyes never leaving that door until he hears someone snap his fingers, and he turns his attention back to his family, now ordering their desired meals. Teikoku looks at him expectantly, fingers drumming the table and raising a brow at his direction. Koku deliberately has no time for ordering, so he tells Teikoku he wants what his brother wants.

Teikoku blinks a little, "Are you sure you want spicy food?"

Koku nods with no hesitation. "Sure."

Teikoku dismisses the waiter with a little wave, before resuming his conversation with Manchukuo.

The ignored boy decided to dream about how one day, he will become a world renowned writer. He can already imagine his books in many a shelves, waiting to be read by people who wishes to read the words he has so carefully integrated into the delicate pages that can be folded or thrown into the lake but words still readable (of course he would not accept his book being treated that way), and interpretative to the audience as their eyes roam around the words looping the page with hunger, beads of sweat dropping from the pores of their skin as their finger bends to turn the page.

(He would accept the fact that not everyone would like the way he write though; at least he would get the pleasing of a few audiences and even good compliments and reviews that will make him red for the next few months.)

He hums a small song his mother used to sing to him before she mysteriously vanished (a melody he hums everyday to remember his mother by), trying to look busy by examining the plain white napkin and tissue at his side of the table, at what is the highest tone the wine glass can go when he starts hitting it purposefully with a spoon, and basically tuning everything out until it becomes a static buzz like it is all in his head.

And then like a bomb buzzing throughout the sky to create a cataclysm of events, the whole world implodes all around him. Then the next second seems like everything was in slow motion; there was a buzzing and ringing in his ears that were like a whole garbled mess of another language that a barrier had been formed around them all. Everything was falling to bits in such a slow pace, he wonders if he really is in a movie setting but seemingly so real- the chandelier, instead of plummeting to the floors is slowly but steadily falling like the flipbook did not fully construct its drawings properly and the choppy fall of the chandelier is the result of it; he hears Teikoku shout but the rest of it is slurred and drunk, their table flipping over as glass shards fly across the restaurant, everyone else seemingly stuck in a choppy format, eyes widening in surprise, drinks being spilled, trays being thrown away by the sheer force of the explosion...

And then the spell breaks, as the chandelier plummets to the ground, light bulbs shattering and splaying all over the face. One even tries to impale him right over the eye, and he tries to dodge it, but it seems that his feet are glued to the floor, only watching it come closer, closer to his face to hit its target-

A hand yanks him back down behind a dining table, which has now been turned to a shield; nearby, he hears the sounds of guns clicking and people shrieking and screaming, the thudding of feet loud in his ears. He slowly turns to face Manchukuo, pursed lips and furrowed brows, as he readies his own gun for a battle.

"Stay here with Tokyo and Hokkaido, alright?", Manchukuo tells him, tight-lipped, "me and Teikoku will handle this mess." Koku nods absently, his gray eyes following Manchukuo's departing body from their hiding spot and into the mass of blood.

Koku is in a state of shock, unable to move nor get up from where he was hiding with his siblings. Instead of the air and wind supporting him in his every breath, they are puncturing his chest as his bones break apart to form splinters surrounding his heart but his ribs trying to shield the damned source of his life, beating the way his ears are now ringing a high melody. Koku chokes a little, feeling small particles of dust being absorbed into his throat, his lungs suffocating him whole. Koku tries to get up, but his legs feel like jelly, like they've been broken to tiny pieces. He breathes in and out, but he cannot inhale that fast and hard as his lungs start to fall apart underneath all this smoke and dust, hidden beneath gaps to conjure up a surprise attack reserved for him and only him.

So he follows his chaperone's word and stays with Hokkaido and Tokyo, both shell-shocked and trying to soothe Okinawa who is now shivering and shaking.

Manchukuo has been trained - blood and sweat - for this; it's pulsing in his veins, as he finally put all his hardwork for good work. He can feel a sense of relief once he can finally hold the smooth surface of a gun again, its shine rivalling the moonlight from outside, which had just risen to conquer the orange ball lighting up the entire day. He takes a look at it for a moment, admiring its handiwork, before filling it with bullets meant to target people, sinner or saint.

He sees his boss in the midst of the stampeding crowd, causing more chaos and difficulty rather than easiness. The crowd in front of him were like animals- one single event will conjure surprise, shock, panic and fear that will cause them to go hooting and making the situation even worse. Manchukuo then hears a group shouting in a spur of languages: Korean, Russian, Chinese; and he turns his head towards their direction, seeing them cock their pistols, ready to shoot at Teikoku and give themselves a well-earned pat on the back for a job well done.

Mancukuo swallows his nervousness away, his nervousness because he has grown accustomed to the ways of the mob, its deep, sick, and twisted insides that are all full of rot but he has no mind for this: Teikoku promises his children will be spared from his great wrath, if in turn he works for him.

He remembers that night clearly; there was a slight glimmer of malevolence in his eyes as he offers this deal to Manchukuo, all those years ago, but he thinks nothing of it, young and immature with nowhere to go, accepting the deal and taking Teikoku's hand, then training hard, to murder, to be a puppet, and ultimately becoming Teikoku's right-hand man in the scale of things, a blurred view of what is right and wrong.

(Every night, when he comes home to his children, barely old enough to understand the basics of the entire world and how it revolves around the sun, he thinks; thinks if he is doing the right thing, the right will, the best of the best to keep his children safely underneath his arms, to the end of his days.)

So, he takes another deep breath to make himself at peace that he is going to have to kill once again, before pulling the trigger, once, twice, thrice. All of them drop to the ground like flies once their monster pulls out a repellent that has murdered them all. Blood oozes from their bodies, but their murderer is now running towards his boss, who is shielding himself with a table, gunshots being heard and he tries his best to dodge them.

(For someone wearing glasses, he was a good shot- he'd use it to make people underestimate his prowess.)

"Sir, Soviet and his mob must have known of your plans for the day", Manchukuo pants, finally reaching Teikoku, veins in his hands pulsing, a glare set on his face as he peeks outside of their barrier before almost getting shot by a stray bullet.

"I know that", Teikoku replies, "the question is how to get rid of them."

Manchukuo looks back to dozens of men in black, holding out guns poised to shoot and kill in one motion, towards the sea of bodies surrounding him and Teikoku. The first option was to run like an idiot towards the perpetrators before getting shot or stomped to the death with heavy feet by the crowd. The second was to hide in the same spot, hoping and praying to the gods above that this entire operation will go down the ground, since they are, in this case, outnumbered, them finally becoming the prey.

"There are too many of them, sir", Manchukuo notes, "we don't have enough men to fully wipe out all of Soviet's men coming for our blood tonight."

"Are you underestimating my power?" Teikoku pulls his trigger and lets out a bullet, straight to one's head, but before he falls another bullet goes straight to his head to hit his comrade behind him, also dead. "Anata wa?"

Manchukuo blinks at the two corpses, whose lives had just been shot through the heart abruptly by Teikoku himself, the sun that even the plants wilt and dry up. He shakes his head, "Iie, Teikoku-sama."

(He learns the hard way never to cross even the slightest side-eye from him, his gray eyes showing the bespectacled boy a portal to the fiery pits of hell itself.)

Manchukuo inhales and exhales, relaxing himself as he aims the gun on two more violators and shooting them, straight through their head, their bodies falling like the plague has taken them one by one. And then he sees a spurring object, almost hurdling towards him before he sidesteps out of the way just in time. His glasses fall out to the floors, and he is overcome with panic as he drops to the floor, searching for his glasses while his vision swims like a river flowing right at him.

Then he hears the cock of a pistol, its metal clinking against its owner.

"Manchukuo", the newcomer greets, allegedly knowing his name; his voice was... familiar, except it was now in a lower tone of voice, no innocence left in him. "It's... nice to see you again."

Manchukuo feels the smooth and cold handles of his glasses, and he puts them on, blinking a little to satisfy himself of his clear vision. Then he sees him- the face on the missing posters he's hung up in his room to reminisce a time where everything was kept in their house, just a block away from where he is residing now. The old, abandoned house, grass overgrown and conquering the old white walls, untouched for decades, a ghost in time, but a ghost visible to his eyes nonetheless. The phantoms of the past loves to toy with him, as he walks by that same old house he has left all those years ago, to pursue a desperate way to get money, without his brothers by his side, and Teikoku had taken him in like a small cat stuck in the jaws of death, mangy and beaten.

"Renmin?", he asks, narrowing his eyes as he takes a step closer, but the other falls back. "Is that you?"

Renmin's eyes linger from the gun in his hand, and to Manchukuo's face, searching for a sign, with an unreadable look in his eyes. Manchukuo's lips curl to a small smile and a sad laugh resounds from deep within him, finally being released after years of anguish.

"It is you!", Manchukuo embraces the young man, Renmin struggling underneath his grip as his gun falls to the tiled floors, making a sharp sound from underneath the sounds of gunshots and the sight of crimson liquid everywhere. "How long has it been since we last saw each other? Two years? Three?"

"Ten years", Renmin deadpans, lips pursed to a thin line, eyeing the gun on the floors. "We haven't seen each other for ten years, and here we are."

Manchukuo's smile falters a little, but he keeps it glued to his face, overjoyed at the sight of his brother, obscured from the entirety of his life for a decade. "But... we finally see each other again. I would've preferred a much more decent setting", he looks at the broken and shattered glass windows, the once highly refined setting of this venue tumbling to ruins after just a day of its reign, a king succumbing to his land after just annexing the furthest of regions in his empire, "but we meet again nonetheless."

Renmin nods, breaking away from Manchukuo's arms, "So we have."

Manchukuo's mind was not on the corpses scattering to the floors, the foreign languages swirling around his head, making him dazed the longer he is with Renmin, the one that got away. Tears were forming in his eyes, a dam about to break to unleash a wave of unresolved emotions, trying to break out of the cold and frozen prison hidden behind his eyes to punish him for ever letting them dry up. He holds his brother's hand, smooth and warm underneath his rough and calloused palms, and he wonders; if his life with Soviet was smooth sailing, the seas calm in his grasps, the sky blue and the water clear. And his life was rough, always a stormy day and night, his boat rocking back and forth as the angry waves try devouring him deep into the waters like they are sirens luring their hypnotized prey only to be torn to shreds.

"We can escape this madness, you know?", Manchukuo says, voice breaking, clasping more onto his younger brother, his hands growing colder like death is overtaking him. "I can start the car. We can leave. Not without my kids though, I love them to bits, and you'll adore them. We can rent an apartment in another city, out of this shit we've dug into."

Renmin's eyes show no sign of comprehending his older brother's message, always empty, and then... it shines a little. His unreadable face turns to one of excitement (but it looks forced, for Manchukuo's part), the hands on Manchukuo's warming like its life had returned to it, hope rekindling from this life of misery. "That would be... lovely, Manchukuo. Away from everything we've ever known, and into the unknown. That's such a brilliant plan. Come here for a moment."

He pulls on Manchukuo's arm, and he follows, compliant. Before he can think clearly however, Renmin pushes him to the floors, pistol on his hand, a small smile tracing over his face, watching his brother below him widen his eyes in surprise before realizing how dire the situation is; Renmin aims the gun at Manchukuo and shoots- he misses his head, but he gets his thighs at the very least.

The bullet was like a small little button, just deadlier and thicker, his delicate skin being punctured by the cursed thing and blood comes spilling out. The pain was unbearable- a thousand needles cutting deep into his skin, trespassing to the deepest crevices of his soul as the blood gushes out towards his wool clothing, the dark hue of his pants clashing with the crimson red, pulsing in his veins, pooling into his clothes and absorbing it like a wet sponge after washing the dishes. His breathes are ragged, struggling to stabilize his condition as his heart beat increases faster, panic rising in him as he trembles and shakes; he has only ever felt the metal clad against his head whenever he speaks out too many times against Teikoku, but he has never been shot.

Until now, that is.

A thousand screams were trying to erupt from his mouth, mind and veins, pulsing too much, his fingers engraved deep into his palms, puncturing him ever so slightly, in the simplest of ways, blood dripping from his mouth due to biting too much.

"Dàgē", Renmin's voice was soft and dim, Manchukuo straining to hear his voice. "This is goodbye."

He does not lift his hand however, but Manchukuo sees it- a dot a distance away from them, growing increasingly nearer and before he has time to finally get ahold of his situation, everything goes black, the end of his act, the end of his play.

Renmin stares at the limp figure that used to be his brother, tuning out all sounds from anywhere else as he looks at those dark eyes- full of hope to have a new life, away from the mobs, away from Teikoku, away from this madness; now just a listless stare into the oblivion he is now falling through. He hears a cry from somewhere distant, but he pays no mind, kneeling down and closing his eyes, his face cold as death had come to him fast, the hole where the bullet went through dripping out blood, glasses askew. Renmin takes in a deep breath, sighing a little before he feels two arms wrap around him like a coat during the winter season. He feels a kiss on his cheek, and all of a sudden he grows warmer.

"Sulian...", he sighs as he kisses his lover on the lips, the larger chuckling as they deepen their kiss on enemy ground, the floors splattered with blood, all screaming in pandemonium. But Sulian was his heaven, a dream come true, and with him everything is serene. Sulian breaks their kiss however, uttering a needy whine from Renmin but he shushes him.

"Listen, lyubov". Renmin's ears stop clouding the drenches of his skull, then he hears it- blares of a police siren.

"Gāisǐ de", Renmin swears underneath his breath, already realizing how heavy their situation is right now. "Gather the men, get out of here before the goddamn police arrive." He finds another strapping young man eyeing Teikoku, eyes narrowed, hands relaxed on the gun, poised to kill. He sighs a little, "I'll take care of Inmin."

Renmin swerves and ignores the mangled bodies scattered about the floor, the gunshots never scaring nor hindering him as he makes his way towards his goal- the unhinged man by the kitchen door, his only remaining eye furious with passion and fiery vengeance on the one who ruined his life and made him plummet to where he is now. The blaring of the sirens were getting louder now, becoming a source of irritation in his ears.

"Inmin." The adolescent almost drops the pistol he was holding until he reflexively catches it with a hand. He glares at Renmin and stares back at his target. "We need to leave; the police are here."

"I don't care!", Inmin hisses, eyes still on Teikoku, murdering his way through the bodies, looking more like a deity punishing the mortals than a man himself. "I want to kill him. I want to torture him so that he can feel the pain he gave me."

"Now's not the time Inmin!", Renmin snipes, hands on Inmin's arms, pulling him back to the exit, comparable to a mother scolding and forcibly taking a child from a store of sweets. "The police are there and if they see you with a firearm they're going to handcuff you! We are not bailing you out!"

Inmin growls, trying to shake off the firm grip on his arm, "So what if I get stuck in a cold cell for the rest of my life?! At least I know what happened to my mother!"

"Your mother wouldn't like it if her dearest son sees you in a prisoner's outfit, would she?" He knows he should feel bad about threatening Inmin like this, but he'd done this to him most of the time; from doing housework chores, guilt tripping him, and to this. One word of his mother not being appreciative about his life, Inmin's whole confidence comes crashing down to a zero, just the way Soviet likes it.

Inmin's arm goes slack, and he lets Renmin drag him from the chance of finally getting the sweet vengeance he so desired ever since he was a child. Revenge was calling out to him, a voice seducing him to kill Teikoku before it is too late, trying to bribe him of a life of riches for one soul. One heartless and wretched soul, enough to rid the world of one person who doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as they do. He sees Teikoku smile, shooting as many people as he wishes, sometimes missing Inmin's comrades to shoot civilians, and sometimes he would aim perfectly at his comrades and shoot, one last drop of life disappearing from the world. And he was laughing; the bastard was laughing, enjoying what he has done, enjoying himself trampling all over the corpses.

The last thing Inmin sees before Renmin closes the door behind them was Teikoku's gray eyes on him, his lips in the form of a wide smile that sends shivers down his spine.

Inmin needed a peace of mind after the latest gathering from his mob. He takes a cigarette out from his coat's pocket, lighting it up, serving as the only source of light, the moon being covered by the clouds like a gray blanket hovering over the sky. His hair was flaked with sleet, and he shakes them off for the umpteenth time this night, sighing as he takes a load of the scenery outside of the cramped spaces he's been living in. Inmin sighs at how wondrous the buildings portray a scenic landscape in the night, the small glow of the stars trying to conjure and replicate the glow of the moon. The dim lights of each building shows silhouettes of family, friends, and couples doing something private, only for it to be broad casted by the lights inside of their home, and whatever they are doing.

Inmin did not get high of the feeling of a cigarette in his mouth, releasing a puff of smoke, watching it stretch across the sky like a wisp before it completely disappears. He wants the feeling of cannabis underneath his nose, enlightening him and making him feel like he has no problems at all, his sadness drowning away just from snorting the plant until he feels like he is happy enough to do his own thing, and then the spell wears out few hours later, leaving him weary and tired, cursing the effects.

(Of course, his comrades would decline him of his usual stash this night; he was thrashing about, swearing and making the newest members overwhelmed with his act.)

"Family...", then his only eye lights up, finally remembering what he has to do to finish the night off.

Repeating the address he promises never to step foot after they rejected his offer to help find their mother by looking for a mob that will aid them and their financial business. He remembers the shit he's said to them, as he steps on the dead cigarette stick as he runs from the edges of the city until he finds an apartment building.

He has seen the building change, all those years ago, becoming much refined, more appeasing to look, no more moldy walls and rotten would that is sure to make the whole place collapse with one slam of a door. Inmin walks towards it, steps light, not wanting anyone to be aware of his presence, of him going back to the home he deserted in search of someplace else. The eye underneath his eye patch was tingling, as if sensing he belongs here, to the family he has his eye on ever since leaving, ever since he has become an outlaw, a watcher in their lives leading and progressing on.

Inmin dips low as he watches Minguk through a window, book on his hands, and he focuses hard on the words on the large book his twin was holding, but all he can comprehend are words ever changing, flying out of the covers of the book and into the window, and he becomes disgruntled at the fact he can never do anything right, even read a goddamn title. Minguk's mouth was moving, perhaps reading and memorizing the passages in the book he was reading, coffee on the table.

Ah, Inmin looks at the dark circles underneath his brother's eyes, the way his fingers would twitch when he flips to another page. He's pulling an all-nighter again. Baegchi.

He looks through another window, seeing his samchon cooking something, a small smile on his lips, eyes closed as he lets his dream over take him, back to the days where everything was alright and dandy.

Inmin sighs- nothing has changed from the last week, his family still being poor ignorant souls while he is searching for their mother, their souls giving up on the probability she is alive and well.

So he runs, to the midst of the night, the sky camouflaging him as he runs back to his mob.

Dàgē- big brother in Chinese

lyubov'- love in Russian

Gāisǐ de- damn it in Chinese

Baegchi- idiot

Samchon- uncle

#mine #writing #countryhumans #countryhumans japan #countryhumans japan empire #countryhumans kpg #countryhumans north korea #countryhumans south korea #countryhumans manchukuo #countryhumans china #you're shooting your bullet the wrong way

13 notes · View notes

countryshitposts · 5 years ago

Text

you are still the sons, and he the father

here's a whopping six thousand word fic i've been working on for two weeks so read it you piece of shits

Imsi and Jeguk try finding out why their father is absent from their lives everyday. The truth horrifies them both.

tw for: homophobia

It was a quiet and uneventful day in the Korean home. Chosen was humming to herself as she makes herself breakfast, having skipped out earlier due to errands in the market. She hears Daehan Jeguk and Imsi talking, but decides not to bother them.

"It is quite unnatural that father would disappear every now and then", Jeguk muses as he looks at the bright sun shining down on them, making the flowers move to its direction.

"How long has his strange disappearances been going on?", Imsi asks, looking at Chosen eating her food.

Jeguk thinks for a moment, "Ever since I have come here, he has been disappearing every now and then. There are slight differences in his appearance once he comes home though; wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and a red blush on his cheeks."

Imsi snorts, "I bet he visits brothels at times."

Jeguk chuckles, "Definitely. Although I have some suspicions on the 'brothel' subject."

"Why is that?"

Jeguk takes out a slip of parchment from his sleeves, stained, yet some characters readable. Imsi leans in to look at the parchment, and finds out that it is written in Chinese. Imsi raises a brow, trying to muster the characters and translate it. It is from a man named Ming, who happens to be the last dynasty before Qing had come along.

"It looks to be a letter", Jeguk says, "from a Chinese man."

Imsi rolls his eyes. "No shit Sherlock."

"Whenever father receives his letter", Jeguk continues, ignoring Imsi's statement, "he lights up and dresses himself up."

"Perhaps this man is one of his friends who encourages him to visit brothels?"

"Yes but-", Jeguk narrows his eyes, suspicious as he investigates the letter more, "-this man is using very flattering words in Chinese, too flattering for a friend."

"Let me see", Imsi says as he takes the letter from Jeguk, to inspect it full-heartedly. There were some very, very inappropriate innuendos and statements, but this man talks about how he loves their father with all their might. Imsi furrows a brow, as he looks at Jeguk with eyes wide of realization. "I think I already know why father disappears every so often."

"Yes? And what do we do about it?"

"I'll tell you later."

That night, their father, Joseon, comes back with a delighted expression on his face, covering his neck with his clothing. He did not eat with the rest of his family, claiming he has 'already eaten'. Imsi and Jeguk look towards the back of their father as he ascends towards the stairs.

Imsi leans in towards Jeguk, who was beside Chosen, "He has a lover. A male one."

"Please, this man might just be very affectionate, and our father would never dare cheat on our mother." Jeguk spoonfeeds Chosen, and she smiles in return. Imsi goes back towards his seat and resists the urge to gag at the couple in front of him.

"We'll see about that", Imsi whispers to himself, continuing to eat, trying to ignore the couple activng lovey-dovey in front of him.

Imsi and Jeguk settle out a plan: if their father receives another letter and disappears off into the floods of ancient men and women, they follow after him. They just want to see if their theories were right, and feel like Joseon has been keeping this secret long enough; it needs to be shed to the public light.

Joseon was humming a Chinese melody when Imsi first encounters him. Imsi was just standing by the front lawn, admiring the beautiful flowers littered along the way and appreciating its beauty, when a mailman had scared the life out of him. He says it is for his father, and Imsi takes it from his hands. He narrows his eyes as he carefully unravels it, hoping that once he gives it to Joseon he wouldn't notice the differences.

Imsi furrows his brow as he reads through the letter. This man, just like from the previous letters, has been using very flattering words and sexual innuendos, much to Imsi's embarrassment and dismay. Despite all this, he can feel disgust churn inside of him as he realizes that this man - Ming, he reminds himself - is seemingly seducing their father with his words, and their foolsome of a father has agreed to be swayed into this... atrocity. A crime. Imsi tries not to crumple the paper, but he has the urge to do it, to go to Ming's home and hurt him, and shout at his father for being a sodomite.

The letter ends with another statement of love and care, telling Joseon to meet him at the palace. Imsi carefully puts the letter back to his place, plasters on a straight face despite his disgust and anger, and walks towards Joseon. He can't even unsee his father, the man who had taught him morals and philosophy in his life, a homosexual. A disgusting, grieving homosexual.

"Father, someone has given me this letter. Says it's for you." Imsi tries to look at his father's eyes, but breaks eye contact with him after a few seconds. No matter how much he tries, he cannot look at him in the eye.

"Oh, thank you son", Joseon says as he takes the letter out of Imsi's hand, unfolding it to read its contents. To Imsi's disgust, his father's face starts to redden, his dark eyes shining brightly, rivalling the sun. Imsi's face contorts in disgust, and it deepens when Joseon chuckles and folds the letter, looking at his youngest son with a slight smile.

"Tell the others I am going away for a trip Imsi", Joseon says, holding up a hand to ruffle his hair, but Imsi steps backward, not wanting to be touched. "Ah, it seems you have grown out of my touches."

Imsi nods, playing along. "Honestly, it is quite embarrassing for me to be held like that father." He says with a fake smile.

Joseon laughs light-heartedly, as he goes inside to change. Imsi follows him back to the house, and leans on the table, trying not to listen to Jeguk and Chosen flirting. He elbows Jeguk after the couple laspes into a comfortable silence.

"We follow father", Imsi says, the word 'father' now foreign on his lips, as if this brand new secret he and Jeguk discovered made them think there was more to Joseon than just being their father. He was a sinful man. "We catch him with this 'Ming' person, and we'll see if he truly has a... male lover." Imsi shudders at those last words, while Jeguk purses his lips.

"Alright, we'll see if our current hypothesis is correct", Jeguk says.

"You mean my hypothesis?"

Jeguk gives him a lopsided smile. "I changed my mind of father having an overly clingy friend."

Once their father bid farewell to them, they start to follow him discreetly, letting him walk distant steps so they can keep up with him while maintaining their cover. Once Joseon reaches a beautiful looking palace with Chinese carved across the gates, did they realize that Ming was, say, royalty. Perhaps even richer than their family. This man must be quite important in Joseon and others' lives. After all, he did say something about how a person made his life special and exciting, they just didn't think of it that way.

They spot their father looking through the beautiful scenery of the Chinese' much, much better-looking garden, to the brothers' jealousy. It had fountains, a pond with a curved bridge, the waters clear and full of lilies. They silently walk over it, marvelling the scenario, before turning back to their task. Their task was to put an end to their father's crimes, once and for all. They silently follow Joseon into the palace, hide past the dragon throne where many of the old Chinese dynasties still live, until they reach a beautiful place, comparable to a paradise. It was just like the garden they've seen at front, but much more natural, comfortable, and nostalgic. They then spot Joseon walking towards a man - Ming, presumably - and a familiar woman snuggling up to a man. Perhaps that was her husband.

Imsi and Jeguk hide behind the hedges, trimmed just above their height, as they continue watching their father with narrowed eyes. Joseon was smiling, a blush forming on his cheeks, and the twins can't help but feel disgusted. How could their father abandon his virtues by devouring one's own gender? How could he abandon his masculinity?

Ming noticeably smiles as he sees Joseon nearing him, and the two embrace. Much to the twins' disgust and horror, the two share a kiss on the lips.

"You've joined us again, my Chaoxian", Ming says. Jeguk furrows his brows.

But father had hated that name Qing had always called him, he thinks to himself. But then he looks almost sad, like someone had called him that in a special, meaningful way.

"I'll always join you, even to the afterlife, Myeong", Joseon says softly.

Imsi had remembered seeing his father in tears one night, whispering the name 'Myeong' over and over again, hugging a small painting in his hands. He suddenly can't help but feel sick, remembering how he thought Joseon was crying over a loved one. He was crying over a loved one, but he didn't expect it to be like that. Not even his queens can console him of his old 'friend'.

"Dad, you have to taste the peaches that Ming has harvested recently in his garden", the girl, who was the only woman in the group exclaims, and her husband chuckles.

"I will", Joseon says, chuckling, sitting on Ming's lap, much to his observing sons' dismay.

Imsi and Jeguk look at each other, confuzzled at what they had just heard come out of the girl's mouth.

Father? Jeguk mouths to Imsi, and shrugs, feeling jealousy coming back to him, a conflicting emotional storm wishing to wreck his ship of happiness, like it always does for his whole life. He can feel a cloud of emotions churning inside of him, waiting to burst.

And it did, when he sees Joseon and Ming passionately making out. He angrily steps forward, wanting to shout at his father, but his brother beats him to it, having enough of this tomfoolery.

"Father." Jeguk's tone was full of anger, his face seething with rage. The girl and her husband look up at the newcomer, while Joseon and Ming quickly break apart. Imsi is very quick to follow, crossing his arms while standing beside his brother, both of them giving each other support.

"Jeguk? Imsi?" Joseon's tone was panicked, as he stands up from where he was sitting. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you", Jeguk spits, "you've been disappearing from our home for so many years, we didn't think to care where you have gone."

"We let those years slide", Imsi replies, anger evident. "We let those years slide because we thought you were innocent and were attending meetings."

Ming stands up, clearly disliking the attitude his lover's sons were displaying. "And your father is innocent! How dare you talk to your father like that!"

"This is none of your business", Jeguk snipes, giving Ming a cold hard glare, "this is between me, my brother, and our father."

"Tell us, father", Imsi says, the last word full of poison and Joseon visibly flinches. "Do you feel satisfied of letting a man - a man! - touch you that way? Do you feel like you are comitting a crime, an atrocity? Because we certainly think you are!"

"And you dare replace us as your sons with this girl?!", Jeguk says, pointing at Ryukyu, who was ready to defend herself and her father figures, but Malacca holds her down, glaring daggers at the two brothers. "Does becoming a parent increase your chance to be a virtuous man that needs respect?"

Joseon comes up empty with words, mind blank, body shaking.

Good, Imsi thinks, let him be ashamed of himself.

Joseon turns to look at Ming, then back at his sons with a remorseful look. He walks to them, tries to touch them, but they both back away. Joseon's brown eyes immediately fill with tears, but he tries to hide it by furrowing his brow.

"Y-you dare disrespect your father like this?", he says sternly. "Who gave you the right to insult your father's decisions?"

"You're no longer our father", Jeguk says, looking at him with an unreadable face, crossing his arms.

Joseon's stern façade breaks, his face contorting to a face of surprise and heartbreak. "Ex-excuse me?"

"You lost the right to be called our father."

Without a word, Jeguk and Imsi walk out of the gardens, feeling everyone's eyes upon him. Tears start to stream down Joseon's face, as he watches the sons he had loved and lost in life turn their backs on him for his choices.

"Those were your sons?", Malacca says disbelieving as he tries to comfort his father figure, while also calming his wife down, who was absolutely fuming and vowing to flip Joseon's sons on the nearest table. "They are more ill-mannered than Ayutthaya, in my opinion."

"That's because you two often fight for my attention", Ryukyu deadpans, "and now he's just asking for that Portugese bastard to remember him."

Meanwhile, the two lovers were also deep in discussion, with Joseon breaking down into sobs while Ming soothes him, rubbing circles on his back. Ming carresses his lover and tries to calm him down.

"I don't understand", Joseon cries into Ming's clothes, "they loved me with all their heart. They adored and idolized me, even when I proved to be weak. How did this-" he motions to he and Ming- "change everything?"

"Love, I think that your sons have been influenced by Qing's mentality", Ming says with a general distaste on his mouth, as he carresses his lover with gentleness and love. "Perhaps they have become close-minded over the years, thinking that love amongst males is forbidden, sinful and atrocious. Kids these days."

"You know, I was looking forward to meet your sons", Malacca blurts in, "you said they were the most wonderful people."

"They are, Malacca", Joseon sighs, "their beliefs are just... slanted."

"'Slanted' as in you and dad?", Ryukyu jokes, and the tense atmosphere in the room turns light as the others let out a few chuckles.

"No one controls the way you love someone", Ming softly says, "they should know that. You should have taught them that back in the days of life."

Joseon doesn't say a word, preferring for his mind to talk to him about the situation at hand, at the prospect he was promptly disowned by his own children. And for what? His unconditional love towards Myeong? He and Myeong had been separated for so long, for so many years, the sea never coming back to crash on the shore, instead, slowly receeding from the golden sand until it dries up, leaving everyone lonely in its wake. He knew that Ming can never come back to him, seeing his corpse in front of him, breaking him and his spirit.

He gently traces a finger around Ming's neck, a thin line made by the rope that had marked the fate of his lover, that had marked the rest of their lives with heartbreak and strife. Ming winces as he looks at Joseon eyeing his wound, reminding him of all his mistakes and sorrows. Ming puts his arms around Joseon, in order to comfort him, and himself.

Their faces were so close together, each feeling each others' breaths on their faces, their eyes telling each other the same thing. Their lips bridge the distance between them, and Joseon tastes the sweet flavor of peach as he explores the inside of his lover, hearing the other sigh and grunt in pleasure, running a hand through Joseon's hair. The man was pleased as he leans more into Ming's warmth, craving for more, more, more. Ming tugs on his hair and Joseon lets out a breathy moan, breaking apart from Ming with hunger in his eyes, grinding his arousal on to Ming's knee. Ming smirks at him, putting a finger on his chin, both their eyes levelled once again. Joseon can see the power, lust and dominance Ming's golden eyes, their smirk turning into a cheshire cat's grin.

"How about we...", Ming tugs at Joseon's hanbok, and he does not protest, already knowing deep inside him he is enjoying this. "... blow off some steam?"

Joseon replies with another kiss on Ming's lips, as he lets himself be carried by his man to another room, leaving the room to Ryukyu and Malacca.

"Since we have the room to ourselves-" Malacca starts but is cut off by lips on his, and he kisses back, already knowing what his wife needs.

Jeguk feels conflicted. After confronting his father, there was a strangled mess of emotions inside of him, a tangled knot refusing to untangle. It was a mess of problems compiled one by one, making him weak in his footsteps, but he carries on, the once bright, beautiful and shining light in the sky burning him through his skin, like he had done a wrong doing and deserved to be burned alive for it. It singes him, clawing through his clothes, skin, hair, bones, until he is nothing but ashes standing in the desert.

When he sees Chosen, however, planting beautiful flowers in their front lawn, the feelings fade, as it is replaced by feelings of fluttering love, like back in the old days of them frolicking in the fields or kissing in the stables whenever no one was there. His beloved sees him and she waves, smiling delightfully, and just like that the memories of his confrontation fades, as he runs to Chosen and hugs her, spinning her around and loving the way she laughs.

Imsi stays silent, no interjection nor bittersweet remark to their flirtations.

After a few more chuckles, Jeguk puts her down, and she looks at Imsi, standing tensely, eyes straight ahead, looking through the couple.

"Imsi, are you okay?", she asks, sounding concerned. Imsi looks at her but doesn't say anything as he walks through the couple like they're ghosts and walks into the house, closing the door with a loud slam, making Chosen flinch and cling on to Jeguk, old memories surging up. He comforts her, soothing her by singing to her lullabies, until she feels better.

"I'm sorry for my brother's attitude, nae salang", Jeguk says as he wipes some of Chosen's tears that spilled from her eyes, "we had a confrontation with our father today."

"Is that why you and Imsi vanished with Joseon all of a sudden?", Chosen asks, burying her face into Jeguk's chest. "Gwaenchanh-a boiji anh-a."

Jeguk sighs, leading his wife inside, his fingers rubbing her palms to make her feel better. He finds Imsi, seated near the tables, head on his hands. "It is because... our father did something horrible, atrocious, sinful."

Chosen gasps, "Mwo?"

Before Jeguk can open his mouth, Imsi intervenes, sounding troubled. "We found our father kissing another man. He did not deserve to be called our father anymore."

Chosen's surprised face is then replaced by furrowed brows and a confused look. "Geuge daya?"

"Well-"

"You disowned your father for loving another man?" Her tone was angry and disbelieving. She lets go of Jeguk, much to her husband's surprise. Imsi looks up from where he was sitting, raising a brow, his mind still brewing up trouble.

"Chosen-", Jeguk tries to respond, but it seems she was not yet done.

"Joseon raised you two! He taught you everything the world has to offer! He loved you both with all his heart, all his soul. Then you say he is not your father anymore for loving another man? That is irrational!"

Imsi stands up, frowning and crossing his arms, staring at her, but she surprisingly remains unfazed in front of the two brothers.

"You don't know him the way we did." Jeguk looks at his brother, who seems to be feeling the same amount of troublesome amount of feelings, trying to destroy his walls with big tidal waves, angry and rumbling and as dark as the sky. It was trying to destroy them both, a rift creating deep inside them and trying to open the gap more.

"If I knew him the way you did I would respect my father's wishes", Chosen shoots back. Imsi keeps his mouth shut, and it was Jeguk's turn to speak up.

"Chosen, don't you understand? Our father had lied to us, kept us in the dark about this atrocity, even tried to defend himself once he is faced with us! He does not deserve to be called our father! To be part of our family!"

Chosen shakes her head, her anger disappating, replaced with a worried look. "I would be angry my own father would hide such a secret from me, but would I cast him away because he is in love with another man? No."

Imsi and Jeguk look at each other, then back at Chosen, who was staring at them.

After a minute of silence, Chosen speaks up.

"Please talk to your father."

"I do not wish to", Imsi replies, and Jeguk himself is surprised by the way Imsi answers her. It was always Jeguk who was stubborn and not complying anyone's orders. Jeguk also wants to deny his wife's suggestion, but something inside him stops. Like there was a yearning in his heart for something more.

So Jeguk makes his choices.

Either he cuts their father out of their afterlives for eternity, or he and his brother accepts him for who he is.

Both sound hard to do.

So he does the latter, taking Imsi's wrist, much to his younger brother's confusion.

"Wait you're certainly not-", Imsi starts, but he sees Jeguk's face, and he sighs. "Y-you feel it too, don't you?"

Jeguk nods, "I feel like we made a mistake."

Imsi takes his brother's hand. "That needs to be right?"

Jeguk nods, embracing him. "That needs to become right."

Imsi was imagining all scenarios running around his head as he and Jeguk walk back towards the palace. His thoughts were screaming at him, trying to control his every movement as he and Jeguk come closer to the place they felt touch their hearts so badly to the point both of them feel each other's guilt so distantly. After his confrontation with his father, he can't help but feel his inside tear apart, as if it wasn't meant for him to disrespect his father like that.

He remembered his father tucking him in bed at night after their mother died, singing the same bedtime lullaby their mother once did, and help him be lulled to sleep. He remembered his father letting him read anything in their vast library, and listening to the wonderful stories Imsi had read, acting it out and becoming in sync with his imagination. He remembered his father lecturing and berating him for pulling on his brother's hair too much. And he remembered the corpse of his father, lying in his room, crimson staining the floors, looking as sad as he was in his life.

"Are you alright?", Jeguk asks him.

"Not at all", Imsi replies while shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. "I just have these stupid thoughts of guilt. I am rather conflicted, as of now. Firstly, seeing our father kiss another man is sinful, second, he is being unfaithful to our mother, and third, he's been lying to us, telling us that that man was his friend every time he mourns him. He was not, he was so much more than that."

"I too am not", Jeguk replies sincerely, as they near the palace. "But it is the first time Chosen had spoken her opinions of the matter at hand. She is never this loud before, so I believe we have done something wrong."

Imsi lightly smirks. "Sounds like you're whipped."

Jeguk shakes his head, "I never get those slang words you are speaking of."

Both of them enter the gates of the front palace with small serene smiles, their silence comfortable. They look at the big, wooden door, made of mahogany and rich textures of wood. It was intimidating, especially the dragon head holding the knob, daring them to hold it and summon forth the great dynasties from beyond. Imsi has the audacity to do reckless things more than his brother, though. So he is the one who holds the brass handle, knocking it against the door. He and Jeguk wait for someone to open the door, or tell them they have permission for opening it.

The door opens, a small creak echoing into the room beyond, and Jeguk and Imsi take a step back, to find an unfamiliar man on the door. He looks at them with a raised brow, intimidating and sharp eyes staring back at them.

"May I help you?", he asks curtly, and Imsi tries hard not to scowl, as he lets Jeguk do the talking.

"We are looking for, erm, Chaoxian?", Jeguk says, stumbling on his words. He looks up at the fallen dynasty in front of him. "Was that the right name for 'Joseon'?"

"Ah, you're the two who dare trespass in our palace with no invitation", the man says. "I do not think my son will let you come in again."

"Why don't you actually install gates to avoid trespassers", Imsi says under his breath, before looking up at the man - apparently Ming's father - and replying with, "we're here to talk to our father."

The man pretends to consider their request, but shakes his head no. "I am sorry but my son's lover does not need visitors right now."

Imsi can feel frustration seeping into his veins, his hands clenching to fists. He looks at Jeguk, who seems to be glaring at the man.

"Look, Yuan - or whatever your name is - we just want to talk to our father, to apologize to him", Jeguk calmly says, but there is a hint of indignance in his voice.

The man's eyes widen as his serious face morphs into one of irritation. "Yuan? You two think I'm Yuan? The person who murdered me and most of my family? The person who made my dear son's life a hellbent adventure? Perhaps I have not introduced myself properly-" he switches to a calmer voice- "my name is Song, last dynasty, along with Jurchen, before that Mongol usurper came along. I think you all know who my son is; Ming."

"What is going on here, father?", a familiar voice asks as Song's son joins him on the doorway, looking down at the two brothers. He looks at them emotionlessly and sighs. "Have you come to torment your father once again?"

Imsi shakes his head, "No sir, we come here to talk to him personally."

Ming tilts his head. "Are you sure you're not going to call him names and explode on him like last time?"

Jeguk nods. "We promise."

Ming nods, widening the doorway. "Well then, it seems you are invited to enter the palace."

Jeguk and Imsi step inside, admiring every single detail on the walls, floors, and ceiling, never really noticing or minding them before due to how they want to explode on their father. The walls were hypnotizing them, commanding the brothers to come closer and embrace its beautiful patterns. The ceiling was giving them all the light they need, laughing at them as they stare up. Ming beckons them to follow, and they do, passing the great wide and lengthy hallway, to the throne room, its size incomparable to anything they've seen in the real life. The thrones were not empty anymore; seated were the great Chinese dynasties, from the mythical Xia and the last dynasty Qing, who was left out, along with a man who looked a lot like him. Yuan, Imsi guesses. They were all with their families, singing, laughing, eating happily like they never had in their first lives. Everyone's eyes turn to look at the two brothers and Ming escorting them.

"Wait, aren't they not the two who insulted their father?", asks the one before Song, who has now occupied his seat.

"For loving another man?", the person seated on the first throne snorts as he fills himself a glass of wine.

"They disrespected their father because of his preferences?", Yuan speaks up but everyone - except Qing - gives him a warning glare, and he seals his lips shut.

("Your father outlawed homosexuality during his reign." One says.)

"Back in our days, we didn't have a care in the world if we love men or women", says the only woman seated on the throne, Great Jin. "We only have one objective in life and it is to marry."

"We already know why these two boys are close-minded of preferences", Ming stares directly at Qing, who holds it for a few seconds before looking away to pretend being enchanted by the walls. Ming looks back at Jeguk and Imsi with a smile, looking old yet... parental. "Come, your dear father is this way."

Jeguk and Imsi follow Ming out of the noisy throne room, an awkward silence consuming them. Imsi looks at Ming, looking far ahead at the large empty hallways full of vases or trinkets or tapestries, each of them having a slight history in them. Imsi then glances at a tapestry of Ming, stepping on a body which seems to be Yuan. Ming had over thrown Yuan, Imsi guesses. Imsi's curiosity starts to spill over the walls he had built around to control himself, and since the hallways were quite large and silent, he decides to ask the first question running around his mind.

"Sir Ming, how did you and my father meet?", Imsi asks.

Ming turns his head to look at him, a slight surprise tinted on his dark eyes and smiles kindly, his cheeks showing the slightest red. "Well, I met your father back when I was a young child; I have been living in the streets ever since Yuan has dethroned my father. I was travelling from region to region to ask citizens to join my cause against the Yuan, but either they were too scared of the immense power the foreigner had or they do not believe a strange, thin child as the true heir of the late Song. So I travelled with only the little food I have to the Korean peninsula, and I found a notable candidate to help me rebel against the foreigners."

A small sigh escapes Ming's lips, incredibly love struck. Imsi wonders if the way a man loves the same gender as he has the same affection as loving another woman. He wonders if all love was the same, if they should be held in a general view. They walk into the beautiful gardens, and the two brothers admire their surroundings, a paradise of the lost, a combination of all beautiful and ugly things. The pond was full of clear water, lily pads on it as the fountains let out bright, sparkly, water.

"Your father was royalty, crown prince of the kingdom his father, Goguryeo, had managed", Ming continues as they pass the butterfly-filled flower bushes, with Jeguk caressing a beautifully patterned butterfly, reminding him of Chosen. "He usually walks to commoner streets in the morning, unguarded."

"Father never even set foot in commoner villages without dozens of guards at his side", Jeguk whispers into Imsi's ear, and Imsi nods.

"I met him once his figure sweeps close to my hiding place", Ming says. "I know that this boy was my ticket to Yuan's palace, and so I surprised him by jumping on his way. Let's just say that Chaoxian had stumbled backwards and commanded me to never set foot near the marketplace. I shot back by saying I was Song's son and therefore heir to the dragon throne, but he replied that I am a madman. With that, he runs back to his palace, perhaps to whine of his misfortune during the day."

"But you and father met again and again, and spent more time", Jeguk assumes as he lets the butterfly fly back to the flowers, as they near the tall peach trees.

"Indeed, my boy", Ming nods as he stands on his tiptoes and reaches to the lowest tree branch, taking three bountiful and healthy peaches and giving two of it to Jeguk and Imsi, who bow to him and silently thank Ming. "He slowly believed I am the rightful heir to the throne, and so he lets me in the palace one day and asks his servants to feed me and give me a warm bath. His parents were quite suspicious of me, thinking I am a con who wants the family fortune, but Chaoxian assures them there is no need to worry. He too, despises Yuan and wishes to expel him. He hires dozens of master fighters, but one of them I had the pleasure to replace as my father in a worth while: Red Turban. He had two sons, Xia and Zhou who are incredibly jealous of my swordsmanship as I train more and more. As I grew healthier and smarter, I started to want something else more than familial fondness and friendly hugs. I desired more, craved more, wanted more than what I have.

"Chaoxian has started eyeing me as well. It seemed that he had been observing my physique and health, and his friendly eyes and smiles turn to one of want and desire as he surveys my body every time we train. It made him distracted from his work. It made me distracted from my goal. One night, Chaoxian had the absolute courage to monitor me and my swordsmanship; the conversation escalated from a friendly one to dozens of flirtatious comments and innuendos to the point we both gave in to our desire." Ming looks at both Jeguk and Imsi, clearly listening with the eyes of intrigued children.

Ming and the brothers reach the end of the garden, into another huge hallway, but this time they had rooms with plaques on their doors. Imsi muses that they must all be large to accomodate many peoples; he passes a sign that reads 'Manchukuo, Fengtian, and Yihetuan', and he guesses that those three brothers share the same room.

"When I died, I left my dear Chaoxian all alone, mourning my death", Ming says. "I felt guilty, too guilty, but I know he will move on from my death and deem me a past love, and have children with his brand new queen." He stares at Jeguk and Imsi with a face of genuine sadness.

"He didn't, though", Jeguk says, "ever since he were alive he would absently stare into nothingness, weep at a single mention of you, hold a day in your honor, and hoard his room with artifacts back when he was young and happy."

"But did your father love you with all his heart?", Ming asks as they stop near a door with the pinyin reading, 'Chaoxian'.

"Yes", Imsi replies, realization striking deep within him as his heart bleeds to see his father and hug him once again. "His love for us was beyond his queens."

Ming smiles. "Then you have replaced me as the love of his life after my death."

Jeguk and Imsi stare at each other, realization striking in as their memories with their father surfaced in their mind, the eyes their father had displayed towards Ming had the same level of affection as he looks back at his twin sons, enjoying the happy lives they had once lead.

"I will ask my love if he wishes to talk to you both at this time", Ming says as he knocks on the door and slips in, looking back at them with his dark eyes glinted with delight. Ming closes the door, face to face with his large bed, with a body lying on it, sleeping soundly. He shakes his head as he fondly smiles, approaching Chaoxian and gently shaking him awake. The man in question stirs from his sleep, moving his blankets and turning to face him, tired eyes and an annoyed look.

"What is it Ming?", Joseon asks rudely, "we had just pleasured ourselves a while ago and I wish to sleep."

"But that means you cannot talk to your sons." Ming plays innocent. Joseon's eyes stop being tired at once as a look of surprise come across his face.

"M-my sons? They are here?" Joseon immediately shoots up, ignoring the pain on his back as he tries to look for his clothes. "You only notified me of my son's arrival now?"

Ming shrugs, "They came shortly after I made sure you were sound asleep."

Joseon groans as he finds his clothes and dresses himself up, making sure his hair looks kept and his appearance presentable. "I'm still sore and stressed."

Ming chuckles. "Don't fret, my love. You'll rest sooner or later." Joseon makes a motion for him to open the door and let his sons in, and so Ming obeys, as in comes Joseon and Imsi, slowly and carefully. "I'll leave you all to talk." With that, Ming closes the door with him on the other side.

Joseon looks at his sons, eyes darting from a sheepish Jeguk to an awkward Imsi. The three of them were all waiting for the other party to speak up, to tell what's on their minds. Joseon lightly sighs as he nears his sons; both make a slight hesitation if they should stay in their place but neither took a step backwards as Joseon's arms wrap around then in an embrace. Imsi and Jeguk hug back, missing their father even if it had just been an hour or two. Joseon leans back, looking at his sons with a smile.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, we both are sorry", Jeguk interrupts their father. "We're sorry for treating you as if you are second class, as a sinful monster, and disrespecting you."

"We're sorry that we have never been considerate of your feelings", Imsi says, tears filling his eyes. "I never thought you'd-"

"And I apologize for neglecting my duties as a father", Joseon says, "I love you more than what the world has offered me."

"We love you as well, father", Jeguk replies with a sad smile. "We almost gave you up for your preferences."

"You are both forgiven." Joseon kisses them lightly on the top of their foreheads, and they both feel wamth surge inside them, a piece in their hearts finally attaching itself together again.

"It seems that we haven't met properly yet", Jeguk says, bowing to the woman his father had deemed as a daughter of his. "I am Daehan Jeguk, former heir to my father Joseon's throne."

The woman rolls her eyes, curtsying. "I've known you since both you and your brother were babes, yet you only regard me as an ally and not a friend. No matter; I am Ryukyu."

Malacca eyes Jeguk and Ryukyu talking, furrowing his brows. He feels someone touch his arm, and he turns his head to find Jeguk's twin brother.

"You do know that Jeguk is married, right?", Imsi points out like the clever little weasel he is.

"Yes", Malacca replies with a frown. "But I still don't like how close he is to my wife."

"Sultanate, I don't know about you but my brother would never cheat on his wife that has suffered too much." Imsi's last statement was vague as he asks for another glass of wine from a servant.

"Why? What happened to his wife?"

"Teikoku."

Malacca blinks and widens his eyes in realization. "Oh."

Imsi takes a sip of his wine as he bumps into another man, who did not take kindly to this assault. The man turns and faces him, face stone-cold and eyes glaring towards Imsi, who was muttering out apologies.

"You should be sorry", the man tells him through a low, cold voice.

"Ayutthaya!", a jovial and elderly voice sounds through the croud, and it breaks the intimidating air Ayutthaya had created, making Imsi exhale a breath of relief and thank Myeong. Myeong approaches them, silk robes and all, as he smiles pleasantly towards Imsi and frowns at Ayutthaya. "Now now, what have I told you about scaring new family members?"

Imsi blinks, clearly surprised at what Myeong had said. Family. He and Jeguk are now part of Myeong's - clearly - large family? He looks around to find most of Myeong's tributaries chatting amongst themselves or tasting the sweet treats the servants had cooked for them, and he realizes he can finally have more than one brother; he can have all.

"Wait, me and Jeguk are part of your family now?", Imsi asks, mouth agape.

Ayutthaya scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Of course, you idiot. Haven't you heard that your father has married Ming?"

Imsi blinks. "Married?"

Myeong looks sheepish. "Oh, we're really sorry we didn't-"

"No, it's fine", Imsi cuts in and gives Myeong a hug. "I think I feel found."

Ming smiles as he embraces the young boy back, savoring his warmth. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ayutthaya give the two a slight smile before it turns to a frown once he notices Jeguk and the others approaching them. The man groans as Ming and Imsi part.

Joseon pats Ayutthaya on the head as he embraces Ming and gives him a shy kiss on the cheek, making the room errupt in a cheer, save for Jeguk who modestly claps and Imsi who smiles at them. Ayutthaya was cheering along as well, crossing his arms.

"Hey Jeguk", Imsi whispers to his older brother, who was busily pouring himself a drink.

"Yes?"

"Do you feel the slightest bit weirded out when father kissed Myeong?"

A pause from Jeguk, hesitation. "A little bit, yes." He turns and he and Imsi watch Ming and Joseon kiss and hug each other tightly, like they were meant to be, like they were soulmates.

"But if father is happy, I am happy too."

#mine #writing #countryhumans #countryhumans kpg #countryhumans korean empire #countryhumans chosen #countryhumans joseon #countryhumans ming #countryhumans ryukyu kingdom #countryhumans malacca sultanate #countryhumans ayutthaya

16 notes · View notes

countryshitposts · 5 years ago

Text

God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson

Chosen overhears the brothers talking, and she uncovers something unexpected.

Chosen has a crush on the crown prince, Daehan Jeguk. Almost everyone has a crush on the crown prince, so what makes her different? She looks at all the other women in court, who would keep flirting with Jeguk and his brother, Imsi, whenever they would visit them. Indeed, they were richer, prettier, and have a better chance at getting to Jeguk than she has. After all, she came from a poor noble family, already intent on marrying her off to a richer nobleman. She was the least prettiest, not having enough money to buy all the expensive make-up the other ladies have. And certainly, she was too plain and boring to the point that Jeguk wouldn't even bat an eye towards her direction.

Today, Chosen was tasked - ordered - to bring the leftovers of today's lunch to the disposal, much to her dismay. The chore would not help her reputation of being the poorest noble woman out there, but would make her smell for the entire day. She didn't like the smell of the leftovers, which were clogging her nose in every direction.

She goes on her not-that-merry way, the path to the stables on a cobblestone path full of hedges and bushes towering over her. It was quite spooky at first, especially in the night, but she's learnt how to face her fear of bushes.

Then, she hears talking.

"I'm not really interested in anyone right now", a pre-adolescent voice says, familiar to her ears.

She stops, knowing she had just encountered the two princes talking to each other, casually, with no fabricated lines. Chosen wants to hear them talk naturally.

"Oh come on, you're bound to be interested in someone someday", a deeper voice replies, and Chosen's heart skips a beat. It was Jeguk's. "Plus, you're the one who roped me into this useless conversation."

"It's not useless."

A scoff from Daehan. "It is."

Imsi groans, "Fine, maybe it is a useless conversatuon, but I just wanna ask you who you like."

"What? Seriously? You pulled me into the gardens so you can ask me who I'm interested in?"

"Yes."

Chosen hears Jeguk sigh, "Why did I let you pull me away from father?"

"Because, I know that father's lectures are boring you!", Imsi exclaims. "He's always using that same, sad boring voice ever since we were born, like we are mistakes! So tell me who you're interested in!"

Chosen braces for herself, trying to quell down the voice of hope deep inside her. Of course Jeguk wouldn't say he likes her, he'd be stooping low.

"This girl from this family", Daehan replies vaguely, and Chosen's shoulders slack of disappointment, and she moves to leave, hidden in the bushes.

She hears Imsi scoff, and she knows that the younger twin will poke fun of his brother until he tells him whom he has a crush on. Chosen decides to stay still one more time, wanting to hear what Imsi has to say.

"Please Jeguk, almost all of the girls in the court are from a noble family", Imsi snipes, and his tone becomes playful and mischievous, gushing like a child, "Who is it? Tell me tell me tell me!"

Chosen hears Jeguk sigh, and she can't help but smile, loving the way these brothers interact. Her nose blocks out the smell of rotting leftovers near her plate, replacing it with the roses on the bushes surrounding her.

"Will you leave me be and pester father with questions of that Chinese man in his portraits?"

"Sure", Imsi affirms, so Jeguk breathes in and out, readying himself. Chosen also peaks her eyes from the leaves blocking her of her view of her prince, and she sees him, with his dark brown eyes and hair, looking at Imsi with a stressed expression.

"I really like this 'Chosen' girl", Jeguk says with a dreamy sigh, his lips curling up to a form of a smile.

Chosen gasps, her mouth agape, a red suddenly forming on her cheeks. She retracts her head from the bushes, her heart thumping. The prince likes her? But why? What did he find in her likeable? She was the least interesting person in the court, the poorest, and the least attractive out of all the court ladies. What did Daehan Jeguk, an alarmingly handsome and kind-hearted prince, see in her?

Doubts forming in her mind, she peaks at the boys again, with Imsi chuckling at Jeguk. Perhaps he thinks that loving her is an incredulous thing, and she agrees with him.

"My gods, look at your face right now", Imsi says with a playful smile on his face, "you really have fallen for her. Why?"

"Because she's the only person who doesn't get my attention through flaunting her beauty and wealth", Jeguk says, still smiling. "From what I've seen of her, she is quite modest and kind-hearted; she gave a homeless man some of her change despite the fact it is her only money for the day, intended to feed herself. She takes care of the garden and animals perfectly, to the point all of my pets favor her over me. Yet she is quite shy. Whenever I approach her tending to the roses she would run away when she sees me."

Chosen couldn't believe her ears; did she hear it right? Or was she dreaming? She pinches herself, half-hoping it wasn't a dream; and it was not. She was actually witnessing Jeguk talking to Imsi about her, about how he had chosen to fall for her in the vast sea of ladies in the court. She wants to get closer to them, to embrace Jeguk, confessing her heart's content, letting herself be flooded by emotions- she leans into the bushes, wanting to hear more of their conversation. She takes a step forward, and instead her foot trips on a loose root. Her smile fades as the forces of gravity plummet her down with the plate of rotting leftovers. She can't help but shriek, alerting the two brothers, who turn their heads to find Chosen tripping.

Then she lands on the ground, the plate she was holding doing the same- except for the leftovers.

She looks up to find the leftovers she was carrying to the disposal on Jeguk, covered from head-to-toe with it. Meanwhile, his brother tries his best not to chuckle as he keeps a straight face, staring at Chosen with crossed arms. Panic flooding in her, she quickly gets back up, her knees scrapped by her fall, as she picks the plate up. Jeguk stares at her, emotionless, then it all clicks in.

"Chosen?", Jeguk says in that beautiful voice of his, "were you... eavesdropping on our conversation?"

"I-I d-didn't mean to", Chosen stutters, tears forming across her eyes. Did she just butcher her chance to be with the prince because she covered him with her chores? "I-I was just p-passing b-by..."

I'm going to die, she thinks as she tries to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks. I'm going to die and I deserve it.

Jeguk approaches her, a hand touching his cheek lightly. "No no, it is fine. Me and my brother should have talked privately." He glares at Imsi, who starts chuckling either at Jeguk's current situation or his hardest wish to look intimidating.

"You? Apologize first? What has love done to my precious brother?!" Imsi starts to laugh, as Jeguk scolds him of his utter informality.

The girl tries to leave, deciding that she had done much to humiliate the crown prince who was busily bickering with his brother. She turns to go back to where she came from, but a hand touches her shoulder. She looks back to find Jeguk with a kind smile and a blush on his cheeks. Imsi was at the back taking care of the mess she made.

"Chosen, I know I perhaps smell like rotten leftovers but..." he breaks eye contact with her, a red blush forming on his cheeks.

Chosen was taken aback by Daehan's hand on her wrist, her face so warm that it might already be gushing red. Daehan smiles at her, his smile melting her heart from inside out.

"Would you like to walk in the gardens with me?", Daehan asks.

Chosen looks at the extended hand, inviting her to a moment with her little infatuation. Cheeks burning, she takes it, letting him share her warmth.

"I would love to." She smiles, as Jeguk leads her away from the flowers, leaving Imsi behind.

"Hey! Wait for me!" Imsi picks up the mess Chosen made and tries to catch up with the couple, who were already far away from him.

#mine #writing #countryhumans #countryhumans chosen #countryhumans korean empire #countryhumans kpg #countryhumans joseon

9 notes · View notes