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hatsoffforkaede · 5 years ago

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Saimatsu gift exchange

My gift is for @animercom so hopefully you like it!

I would have liked it to be a bit longer but with the hustle and bustle of Christmas I haven’t had much time for writing.

Also heads up I’m not the best at writing which is probably why I haven’t posted any fanfics on tumblr yet so don’t have too high expectations.

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As our once prison and temporary home collapsed we knew it was over. The killing game was finished and would never take another victim and for the first time in a what felt like forever I felt at peace. Kaede’s wish had been fulfilled and I oddly felt close to her.

After the killing game life continued which felt... wrong but I suppose that’s just how the world works, life goes on no matter what and before I knew it I was packed off to school again, only this time a regular college. As I walked through the gateway carrying my small suitcase filled with the few possessions I had as most had been lost in the wreckage of the killing game, I realised just how different the school was from the overgrown barren prison I had previously spent all my time. The campus was brimming with fresh faces and chirpy members of staff and older students touring newcomers and showing students to their accommodation. It was overwhelming and I was yet to see Maki or Himiko who were both supposed to be going here as well.

I walk over to a large table with a friendly looking woman standing behind it. She had long auburn hair tied into a ponytail with a white ribbon wearing a blue suit covered by a creamy white apron as well as a beaming smile.

“Um I-is this where we sign in and get our dorm keys?” God I need to get a grip and stop stuttering so much...

“Yes it is! Welcome, find your name on the form and sign it then I can give you your keys for your new home!” She replied in the most singsongy voice possible. Seriously it’s like this woman oozes joy.

“Sure... thanks” I reply trying my best to be polite and happy but failing miserably.

I look through the form listing all the names of the students joining this year and find my name and sign next to it. I hand back the form but just as I do a name stands out to me. A familiar name...

“W-wait!” I blurt out without thinking as the woman behind the desk hold the form in her grip. She looks at me confused.

“Eh? Is something wrong?” She asks tilting her head slightly still holding the form.

“O-oh um it’s nothing...” I must have been mistaken it would be impossible for there to be that name on the form...

She nods awkwardly and retrieves a key with a number on it and a map, I’m assuming of the campus. She hands them to me and I mumble a thank you and scurry away from the already uncomfortable situation.

I follow the map and eventually arrive at a block of dorms. I look at the number on the keys to see my dorm number...53...how ironic...

I walk into the building and climb up what felt like a never ending staircase and a quiet hallway, finally arriving at room 53. I put the key in the door and turn it, in acceptance it makes a click sound. I open the door only to be greeted by a loud scraping sound from behind, like someone pulling something heavy across the floor. I turn to see a grand piano being pushed from behind very slowly, clearly whoever was behind the piano was struggling to move it as a subtle panting could be heard.

Before I had time to process what was happening a voice from behind the piano called out.

“Um hey you! Could you lend me a hand? This piano is super heavy?” It was like a symphony was playing in my head. The voice was like the melody of a tune but no bands were playing, the voice was familiar and wrapped me in a cocoon of safety and tranquility.

I instantly recognised her, I mean how could I not, but she couldn’t be here, she can’t be here. My legs tremble as I walk over to the piano and lo and behold there she stood. Her blonde hair fell perfectly on her shoulders, her eyes still sparkled with ambition and optimism. Her cheeks tinged pink with life contrasting her Snow White skin.

No longer did she wear the uniform of an ultimate but instead a simple white long sleeved blouse and flowing pink pleated skirt that ended a few inches above her ankles.

My heart beat at what felt like a hundred miles per hour as all I could mutter was a breathless “Hi...”.

She stood up straight and dusted off her skirt smiling as she did. “Hi, thanks for stopping. You wouldn’t believe how many people I’ve passed that didn’t even bother to ask if I needed help!” ...she doesn’t recognise me..?

“Oh I forgot to introduce myself! I’m Kaede Akamatsu. I’m staying in dorm 58 so if you could it would be great if you could help me move this piano into my room.” ...This can’t be real.

I watched Kaede die right in front of me and now by some miracle she’s here at the exact same college as me and she only lives just down the hall from me. Not to mention the fact that she doesn’t recognise me at all.

“Um... this is the part where you introduce yourself...” Kaede mentions as she glances awkwardly to the side. I suddenly bounce back to reality, only now realising that I’ve probably been staring off into space for much longer than is considered appropriate.

“Oh ah sorry, my name is Shuichi Saihara...I guess we’re going to be neighbours...” I managed to stutter out.

Kaede smiled brightly just like she used to and nodded.

“So lets get to work!”

For the first time in forever me and Kaede worked together. It was a familiar and yet unfamiliar process. Kaede was the same and different at the same time, not a bad different thought just... different... I can’t really describe it.

We talked as we lugged the grand piano down the hall which turned into a much more time consuming task than I thought it would be. When she spoke she felt more... real.

Before she felt like a leader. Like the type of person everyone aspired to be but could never achieve. Now she felt like someone who could actually exist, a kind girl who had faults and goals that could be achieved by the average person. She was herself. The real Kaede Akamatsu not the artificial ‘protagonist’ archetype that Team Danganronpa created.

After I left her dorm once we had finished moving the piano it was 8pm, I went back to my own dorm only to realise I hadn’t started any of my unpacking, I groaned but managed to complete the task quickly, mostly due to the fact that I didn’t have many belongings in the first place.

Before I knew it I was so tired from the day I just collapsed on the bed and thought about the unbelievable scenario that had just occurred until my brain could no longer process and I fell into a deep sleep.

After that I found myself bumping into Kaede at every corner so it wasn’t long until we had grown even closer than we were in that horrible game. I tried to explain to her once or twice about how we had met before but it was to no avail but honestly as time went on I began to forget about the killing game and with the help of Kaede I began to truly move on with my life.

It has just turned winter and with Christmas coming up there was lots of work to do in the few weeks off we had to celebrate the festivities. I looked out the frosted windows of my dorm out into the cold streets, it’s not exactly the perfect day for getting Christmas presents but it’ll have to do.

I prepared a quick breakfast which merely consisted of cereal because despite living by myself for quite a while cooking was yet to be a skill of mine. Then I put on my coat, scarf and hat to try to stop me from freezing out in the cold morning air. I stepped out into the hallway and locked my door only to hear someone calling my name.

“Shuichi, good morning!” Kaede giggled as she ran up to me.

I smiled and replied “Morning Kaede, I was just going out to do some Christmas shopping.”

“Sounds fun! Mind if I join you? I was planning on baking some gingerbread to get in the festive spirit but I ran out of ingredients so I need to pop to the shops anyway” Kaede said adjusting her woolly hat. I’d never tell her but today in her winter coat she looked cuter than usual, not that she doesn’t always look cute but today I found myself blushing more than usual and it wasn’t because of the cold...

We walk out of the block of dorms and onto the campus. Kaede’s oddly quiet. She gazes off at the sun just peaking over the buildings breathing in the cold air.

“It’s a bit chilly today...” She says still avoiding eye contact.

“Chilly? It’s freezing Kaede!” I joke whilst staring at her features trying to figure out the reason for her sudden change in attitude.

Before I can interrogate her further her hand intertwines with mine.

“I forgot my gloves.” Kaede admits blushing looking me in the eyes rather intensely.

I chuckle and pull a pair of gloves that had been very blatantly stuffed into her pocket.

“You mean these gloves?”

Kaede puffs out her cheeks and does her classic puffy face.

“Hey that’s not fair! I was trying to be all smooth and romantic!”

I blush deeper and let out a small giggle as Kaede squeezes my hand a bit tighter as we continue to walk.

“Is it true?... y’know the stuff about the killing game that you mentioned before”

I looked to the floor thinking about Kaede’s question for a while and nod. Kaede thinks for a second humming as she thought.

“I know I don’t remember it but I believe you and I’m sorry I left you for so long, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Kaede smiled brightly at me and I knew she was being genuine.

“Thanks it means a lot but it not fault you well uh... y’know... in the game.” I replied.

Kaede giggled quietly “I know but to make up for it I’m going to stick by your side for as long as you’ll let me!”

I was slightly taken aback. “What do you mean?”

Kaede grabs my hat and runs ahead out of the school gates laughing as she ran. “You’ll see! Now come catch me, we’ve got Christmas shopping to do!”

I smiled in content and sighed. As I ran after her I realised that it didn’t matter if she remembered the killing game or not because she was here with me and that’s where we both belonged and we’d both stay for as long as time allowed us.

#drv3 killing harmony #ndrv3 #dr #saimatsu #shuichi sahara #kaede akamatsu #Saimatsu gift exchange 2019

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froggybaek · 6 years ago

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beauty and the beast - hwang hyunjin

♛➩ genre: fluff, angst

♛➩ pairing: fem!reader x hyunjin

♛➩ warnings: cursing and mentions of death

♛➩ summary: there were tales of a prince so beautiful, so handsome that even the gods would bend to his will; he was said to live alone in a castle by the lake, rumored to have killed his parents to earn aphrodite’s blessing. you are but a poor villager who strayed too far from the path home, lost in a haunted forest - until a certain, mysterious boy rescues you.

♛➩ word count: 9.4k

“Father, please stop trying to fix what is already broken.”

“Y/N my dear, just about anything can be fixed if the right tools are used!” The plump, graying man chortled in a burst of usual optimism. His hands, covered in calluses from years upon years of laboring away in the tiny workshop off the back of the house, were holding a hammer and nail respectively. Back hunched over the edge of the creaking desk that was littered with tools and dust, the man aimed the head of the hammer and slammed down on the shiny silver nail, forcing it to dig into the bracket of the door he was trying to fix up - for the third time that same cold season.

Usually you would try to help your hardworking father, but ever since you had finally hit the ripe age of eighteen, he would insist that you save your “delicate” hands for less laboring jobs; like knitting, or perhaps sewing hats. Most of the other girls and women did the same, though there were a handful who worked more tiring jobs.

You would have given anything to be like them - to wake up early in the morning to get dressed for a long day of working at the local mill, maybe even the more populated woodworking shop in the heart of the village. Whenever you passed such a woman on the streets, you would occasionally admire how toned their muscles were, how simply powerful they looked wearing a traditional yellow or baby blue dress whilst they made their way to work.

You were not as lucky as them, though; you weren’t too toned nor built due to staying indoors a majority of the time, either reading or baking to your heart’s content. Before you had turned eighteen, you would pop into the quaint workshop resting off the other side of the kitchen area, munching on a freshly baked muffin or cookie; then, you would get to work on melting materials or handing off tools to your father while he continued to work.

The day you’d turned eighteen, your father had made sure not to put you in any possible situation that involved, well, anything remotely difficult or potentially damaging. When a girl came of age in your country, it was tradition that they halt any and all activities (namely ones that would dirty their skin or crack their nails) until they married. You were, of course, now put into that circle until you got married, but truth be told you didn’t plan on doing so any time soon.

That isn’t to say your father was a terrible man who believed in the system, but he was more than aware of your family’s low status in the village. After all, you still wore your late mother’s hand me downs from when she was your age, and it had been years since you had the proper luxury of being able to shop for your own clothes. You were tempted to sew or knit your own, but at the end of the day, you knew that it was better to sell the crafted dresses and skirts for a bit more money.

If you were to marry, he wanted you to be as pristine and beautiful as you always were in his eyes; this meant no hard labor and more time for you to have just about nothing at all to do some days. On such days you would either watch your father, or you would venture out into the village with a friend. Said friend would constantly point out richer looking men that the two of you came across, hinting that perhaps they might fall for you and, in turn, provide a better life for you and your father.

You found that mighty ridiculous, to say the least. “Right, just like your tools helped you fix the same exact door not even two weeks ago.” The words seemed to slip out of your mouth more naturally than your father would have liked, since he heard from around the bar that most wealthy men preferred women who were soft spoken or didn’t speak their mind at all.

Not that he agreed with any of that particular nonsense, why - he preferred you just the way you were; although it did mean he was the victim of your somewhat blunt undertone more often than not.

“Aye, my sweet little dove,” he hummed in a jolly tune, still pounding away at the hinges of the rickety door, “this damned door was fixed not once, but twice before! Door be damned, I’ll be able to fix it by the time the moon rises over the castle on the hill.”

“Yes, door be damned,” you said in amusement, chuckling to yourself as you turned and began to head towards the front door, tattered bag slung over your shoulder, filled to the brim with hand-made clothes made to be sold at the marketplace, “I’ll be home in time to make supper, father. Have a nice day!”

“You need to stop with the cursing, Y/N!”

But you couldn’t hear him, having already shut the door behind your figure in favor of leaving the shack that you called home. Your home rested on the edge of the village, not too far out to be considered an outlier, but it was enough to convince the other villagers that you were only at the rear end of society; more so than you could have ever imagined before.

By the time you had reached the marketplace, you had heard just about every insult known to man thrown your way.

Bitch.

Lowlife whore.

Forgotten trash.

Considering you had heard all of these names before, you could only hope that the minuscule brains of your harassers were able to conjure up better insults next time you came into town.

There was only one empty stall left for the taking, thankfully enough, though by the time you’d walked over you realized why no one had used it. Or rather, who had made sure no one else claimed it.

“Good morning, Jisung.” You smiled in greeting to the slightly taller boy, who grinned in a maddening joy upon seeing you set your bag of clothes onto the stall he had so diligently protected the past hour while he had waited for your arrival. “Thank you, for saving this stall.”

“Ah, it’s no problem at all, Y/N!” The blonde beamed in delight, “Today is Friday, and Friday is our day.”

You started to lay out a dress over the edge of the wooden stall, just under the hood of the balcony draped over with a purple linen cloth so the harsh sunlight wouldn’t make the dress too hot in case someone bought it and decided to slip it on in the inn just a few feet away. “I know, I know! We might as well just open up a booth together and split the profits at this rate.”

“One day, my dear friend; one day we’ll earn enough coin to build our own shop from the ground up, then we can run it together and become filthy rich!” He insisted loudly, a soft laugh threatening to escape your lips when a couple of girls flinched at his booming voice.

“Well, I’m afraid that I might be missing a few days of selling,” you hummed casually, catching how the blonde’s eyebrows quirked in curiosity at your words, “I am going to close my booth early today so I can go out and... look for a proper job.”

Your companion chokes on his breath, which had visibly hitched in his throat upon hearing your mini-declaration. “Y/N, n-no offense, but you aren’t exactly the blacksmith kind of material. And I don’t think any of the other shop owners are hiring - women... sorry.” He reminded you gently, his pink lips curling into a hint of a sympathetic frown. Both of you knew that women were still looked down on in the local villages and towns, though there had been talk of a movement in the more northern sanctums of the country.

Unless you were as fit and strong as can be, it was rather difficult to find a steady job in your village as a woman. Blacksmiths were always looking for hardworking men and women to help them forge weapons for the war effort to the eastern coast, but any other establishment was focused on saving money in case said war reached far enough into the countryside to force anyone to flee; because of this, a handful of workers had been fired and many more had been rejected of work so that the owners wouldn’t have to use their money on their efforts.

“I’ll find someone to hire me, Ji!” You insisted, “who knows, maybe there’s a couple who might need a midwife, or there could even be a tailor who needs an extra hand.” Your optimism is bright and burning, which you hoped would help you get through the day ahead of you, especially considering you figured you would face a handful of rejections before you found what you sought out.

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You certainly hadn’t been anticipating so many rejections, at least, not at the amount that had hit you in the face full force. Bakeries refused to even give you a chance, using excuses that were along the lines of them not needing any new workers; even if it was one that you knew was going into debt due to the lack of bakers. Any blacksmith was out of the question as well, you simply lacked the manpower to properly work a smithy or carry loads of iron bars. Why - you even tried the newspaper stand at the other end of town, but the boy working there at the time, Felix, could only offer you a sympathetic frown as he informed you that his boss couldn’t afford to pay another worker.

Luck had clearly not been on your side that day, or the next day - or the following five days after that. An entire, unsatisfactory week had passed, leaving you with a semi-permanent frown gracing your chapped lips as you once again made the long track home from your stall at the town marketplace.

The moon, cut into a soft crescent, glowed dimly down onto the path of pebbles and dirt you walked upon, occasionally kicking a gray stone aside to quench your everlasting boredom. Yet another uneventful day had passed, the only payment in the depths of your bag being a matching pair of copper coins, which had been given to you by a soldier as he bought a pale yellow dress for his wife back home.

He had said that his name was Minho, that he was a soldier for the country’s army. The raven haired man had also mentioned that his pregnant wife was practically all alone back home on the countryside, her only real company being her younger brother, a boy named Jeongin, who was already busy tending to the farm most days to ever take her out. When he had told you that she was more than likely going to give birth while he was fighting in the war, you had felt a surge of empathy rush through your veins. You offered him a lower price than you would have given to any regular customer, telling him to give it to her as a gift when he got home to his wife and baby.

Curse you for being so empathetic! A measly two copper coins would barely be enough to purchase a loaf of warm bread; you figured that you would have to make due with a bit of flour instead so you could bake the bread yourself, and then you would likely use the rest of your money to buy fresh carrots to prepare a broth...

In the midst of your brooding, you failed to notice that you had slightly strayed off the path to your home on the edge of town; in fact, the crescent shaped moon had thoroughly been blocked out by the canopy of haunting trees that stood proud and tall, how you didn't realize that you had stumbled into the blanketed forest leading towards a hillside, you would never know.

Only when a twig snapped nearby were you brought out of your hefty daze, your gaze shooting upwards from the ground to take in the sudden new scenery around you. The air had become chillier, more menacing than before when you were out in the open and exposed to the elements. Now, lanky tree roots dotted the less populated path and dense shrubbery popped out of seemingly nowhere.

Before the utter panic of being lost, or at least in a new territory where it was totally unknown to you, could settle in, a puff of cold air brushed past the side of your head. “Are you... lost?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice, twisting and turning your body to feel less - vulnerable, so to speak, your chest heaving as you attempt to quickly regain your breath. The man - no, boy, now in front of you radiated a strange sort of aura, his hair as dark as the night sky and his skin as clear as any pool of water.

“W-who are you?” You manage to stutter on your words in pure nervousness, feeling all too small compared to the tall stranger a few feet away.

The boy appears to be at a loss for words, his lithe fingers twiddling with the cuffs of his oddly fancy, lavender button-up shirt. You give him a hasty once-over to size up his character while he hesitates to speak up, taking note of how his black dress pants and shiny brown shoes stood out from the familiar common rabble in the town. Putting yourself in his shoes would be an unfamiliar experience, due to your tattered, raggedy cloths, which seemed incredibly inferior to his almost noble attire.

“I’m Hyunjin, I live in - in the castle on the hill,” he finally replies to your question, his voice cracking as if he hadn’t spoken in centuries, “I don’t mean to intrude, but you seem a bit... lost. It’s dangerous for anyone to be out this late in the forest, you know.”

The only forest you knew of anywhere close to town was Cupid’s Forest, said to be seething with the rage of spirits who hadn’t been granted access to neither the underworld or the gates of Olympus. Since Cupid itself had originally been resurrected in the forest of spruce and pine trees, it had been dubbed of his name; but that legend was not what brought the area fame - or rather, mystery.

There was apparently a “lost prince” who resided in a lone castle on the single hill overlooking both Cupid’s Forest and Echo’s Lake, rumored to be a monster who had sacrificed everything he had to the goddess Aphrodite just to gain her blessing-

Oh.

“Y-you’re the pr-prince,” you breathe out in a stunning realization, eyes widening all at once. You watch carefully as Hyunjin’s muscles tense under his clothes, the boy clearly troubled at how you’d addressed him.

He tried to close some of the gaping distance between your bodies, both of you tense and mildly unnerved from the odd interaction so far. “Please, come to my castle - just for tonight,” Hyunjin pleads with you, stiffening even more than before at the chilling sound of a howl in the distance; it was not the howl of any beast he knew, rather it was the harrowing call of a spirit waking from its slumber at the presence of mortals in its forest, “if you wish to live, you must trust me, please.”

Damn it - damn it all. How could you have possibly roped yourself into such a situation?

“Lead the way.”

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Hyunjin had hastily led you to his home - his castle, for god’s sake, in record time. The second he slammed the front doors shut (which were a good eight to nine feet tall, something you didn't quite understand) both of you were subject to listening to the furious spirits pounding on the dark wood, their aged moaning and groaning akin to someone raking their nails down a chalkboard.

Even as the two of you hunch over to try and catch your breath, exhausted from the run through the periling forest, you can’t help but lift your head to scan your surroundings; after all, you were still technically in the home of a complete and utter stranger - no matter how handsome or kind he appeared to be, you had done well to remind yourself of the unsettling rumors that aged with his castle, his very existence.

Bright candles burned to give flickers of light inside the cobblestone structure, some of them engraved with odd details that nearly resembled a human face - though you assumed you were imagining that aspect of the décor, even if it did carry onto a particular bookshelf and an antique tea set.

In the center of his castle were two grand spiral staircases, blooming with vines and pink flowers that dwindled from the ceiling and entangled with the gold spindles that traced the outline of the white painted stairs. Craning your neck to get a better look at the dazzling staircase and the chandelier that hung above it, you spotted what looked to be a rounded, glass case of sorts at the very top of the stairs. You couldn’t quite make out whatever was inside the case, though you could see the tint of red and green that mingled together in the transparent glass.

“Miss,” the owner of the looming, mysterious castle uttered softly, catching your attention. You bring yourself out of your second daze of the night to glance over to Hyunjin, curiosity bubbling through your veins. Despite the nasty rumors you had heard on more than one occasion, the so-called prince had welcomed you into his lonesome home and saved you from the spirits outside in the haunted forest, why, even his voice was softer and kinder than you expected it to be. “I can take you to one of the guest rooms for now, if you like. I’m afraid there isn’t any food prepared, since I wasn't quite expecting a guest tonight - or... ever, actually.”

Your stomach rumbled hungrily at the mention of food, or lack thereof, but you didn’t feel the need to pry for a meal; not when Hyunjin had let you into his home. “That’s alright, I’m not too hungry anyway,” you lie easily, “but I am awfully tired.”

“R-right... well then, follow me.” He ushers out quietly, turning his backside to you so he can lead you through his enormous castle. You silently follow behind his figure, eyes flickering all about the cobblestone walls decorated with paintings and other knick-knacks that seemed somewhat out of place - even inside a castle belonging to a prince.

Instead of hanging paintings of his family, there are portraits of wildlife creatures that were either said to be myths, or they were known to be so dangerous that no one dared to go into their lands. From the likes of a dark coated Cerberus to the golden maned lion, it seemed as if Hyunjin had a taste for collecting paintings only of menacing beasts.

There were also out-of-place items that piqued your interest, such as the silver lined mirror that radiated a desire for you to take a peek at your reflection, although you ultimately decided not to in favor of keeping a steady pace behind the boy walking ahead. All across the walls were different symbols representing doves: including a painting, a wreath hung above an archway, and a statue depicting a trio of white doves circling a fountain of sorts.

How... strange.

So caught up in your observations of the grand castle, you hadn’t even noticed that the boy had began to lead you up one of the spiral staircases; at least, not until you tripped on one of the ledges, a squeak of surprise escaping your lips as your body begins to fall forward.

But you never hit the stairs. A pair of arms catch you just in time, slowly wrapping around your back to help lift you back up on your own two feet. Breathing a bit heavily from your awkward stumble, you manage to lift your head, quickly (and unexpectedly) met the gentle brown gaze of Hyunjin.

Hands still wrapped around your waist, fingers trailing along the ragged cloths that hung over your body, the boy’s pink lips parted in question. “Are you alright?”

“I - I’m fine, thanks to you.” You breathe out with the most minor of blushes, flustered by the immensely close proximity between your bodies. He smiles awkwardly at your thanking him, his own melanin cheeks showing a hint of red. When another few seconds pass in complete silence, both of you realize the little distance in the space between your bodies, and Hyunjin hastily lets go of your waist while you cough to break the almost perplexing sound of nothing.

Not another word is spoken in the time that he continues to lead you to one of the guest rooms in the castle, the sickly sweet silence deafening compared to the unabashed quietness echoing in the halls. Eventually you reach the end of one of the various hallways, Hyunjin opening the lone door that creaked open with a loud screech.

“Sorry about t-the cobwebs and stains, like I mentioned earlier, I wasn’t really expecting any sort of company.” He apologizes again, scratching the back of his neck while you step forward and take in the atmosphere of the bedroom.

Thankfully there aren’t any paintings of beasts or anything of that nature, since you figured that the haunting images on the canvas would likely gift you with nightmares of being hunted by the wild animals. Nestled in the corner of the room was a bed bigger than you had ever seen - no, ever dreamt of. Pearl white sheets drifting over the sides of the plush mattress, those which were covered mostly by a large, pastel pink blanket. A trio of fluffy white pillows rested against the wooden headboard, just asking for you to plop onto the soft material and roll around in all its greatness - but you held yourself back.

The cobwebs, which mostly dangled around the edges of a tall bookcase, didn’t really bother you all that much; after all, it wasn’t like you weren’t used to spotting them in the corners of your home, no matter how often you would clean the crannies of the tiny hut. “It’s nothing I’m not used to, Hyunjin. Besides, the rest of the room outshines the occasional cobweb - it’s... beautiful.” You echo your thoughts aloud to the quiet boy, fully stepping into the bedroom.

“O-oh, that’s good,” Hyunjin murmurs in relief, sheepishly wringing his cold hands in front of him while he watched you, a beautiful stranger, ogle over the room he considered to be a mess of filth. It hadn’t been occupied in years, unfortunately, having once belonged to - a friend, yes... a friend. “Please, get some rest. You must be exhausted after walking through the forest.”

Gods, did he suspect that you were someone important, trekking through the haunted forest all alone? “Yes, thank... you. I am pretty tired, to be honest.” It wasn’t quite a lie, as your feet did ache from the walk that had originally gotten you lost, though you neglected to mention how you were just a peasant who had stupidly strayed from the simple pebble path. If he was truly a prince as everyone said, he might be so bold as to kick you out should he discover your identity... then again, the raven haired boy has only been kind to you.

Hyunjin nods, but upon realizing your back is turned and you can’t see his actions, he clears his throat and slowly starts to shut the bedroom door, the creaking catching your attention once more. “I will wake you in the morning, my lady. After breakfast I shall escort you back to the opening of the forest.” He informs you, accepting your little nod as response enough before he finally closes the door, leaving you all by your lonesome in the guest bedroom.

You hurriedly kick off your dirty shoes and throw yourself onto the plush double bed, laughs of disbelief pushing past your lips. You couldn’t believe you luck, being (technically) rescued by a prince and offered a room for just a night in his wonderous castle. On top of that, said prince was awfully welcoming and, to an extent, just like any normal boy; not counting the fact that he was extremely handsome.

Ah, no need to dwell on that now, you thought to yourself, tucking your body under the plush pink blanket and white sheets as your head nuzzled into the comfort of one of the stray pillows, sleep poking at your senses, I was just lucky, that’s all.

Just as your eyelids began to flutter shut, you see something move in the reflection of a standing ornate mirror by the bed. Blaming the strange vision on your exhaustion from the events of the day, you shrug it off and huddle closer in the pile of sheets and blankets to block out the sudden chill that swept over the bedroom, falling into a peaceful slumber.

————————————————————————

The next morning, you wake to find that you aren’t in the small, uncomfortable bed that was tucked into the most cramped room of your house. Instead, you come to the quick realization that you are still tucked into the seams of the bed in a guest room that belonged to Hyunjin, the considerate boy who had given you a place of shelter for the night.

You recall him promising to wake you himself, but he is nowhere to be seen. The only trace of him having been inside at all was a stack of clean clothes sat on top of the bedside table, which had previously been empty when you first fell asleep hours ago. Clearly he had meant for you to see the bundle... did he mean for you to wear them?

Sitting up from the bed, you latch onto the clothes and bring them into your lap, carefully inspecting the fine material and sewing that went into the cloth. The top was a cotton, green button-up that closely resembled the shirt Hyunjin had been wearing the night before, adorning the same fancy sort of cuffs and perfect handiwork. The accompanying trousers were made of a foreign, incredibly soft but protective material, dyed a tan color that closely resembled the delicate skin color of your friend, Jisung.

In no time at all you’ve slipped out of your rags for clothes, letting them drop to the floor with no care in the world before you tug the cleaner, nicer cloth onto your body, all the while hoping that you weren’t in need of a bath; to stink up his own clothes would be pretty rude, you thought.

You choose to head out of the bedroom and into the hallway, not daring to explore the depths of the castle without the owner in your presence. Recalling what twists and turns he had made to lead you to said bedroom the night before, you retrace your footsteps until you come to the two spiral staircases. In the center of the balcony, there laid a pedestal - the very one that let the glass dome you spotted before rest on its top. Now, you could make out the familiar shape of a single rose inside the clear dome, the prickly stem green with life and stuck into a mound of... air?

“By the gods...” you can’t help but snort in wonder, taking a tentative step closer to the encased rose, blinking many a time to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. The delicate plant was seemingly floating in midair, the blood red petals still attached to the bud.

Suddenly, a sensation of chills ran up your body, goosebumps trailing your covered arms. You look around the balcony, trying to see if perhaps a window had blown open and let in a cold chill, but you found that they were all shut tightly and covered by the burgundy curtains accented with gold entrails. When you look back to the rose, a single petal had already mysteriously fallen off, going to float in the empty space of the dome.

Shying away from the rose, you shake away the unsettling feeling stirring in your stomach and make your descent down the staircase. A delectable aroma wafts through the bottom of the staircase, tempted your hungry self to follow the scent in search of food; you hadn’t eaten since breakfast the day before, leaving you quite desperate for at least a snack.

The fascinating aroma leads you into what you suspect is the kitchen of the castle, stacks of fruits and vegetables tucked inside wooden crates, two stovetops nestled beside one another with lit fires brewing underneath them.

“Good morning,” the boy cooking his concoction greets you warmly, his back muscles moving with any twitch of his arms against the oddly tight gray shirt he donned. His black hair was messy and unkempt, though it only added to his charming, boyish appearance. “I apologize for not waking you earlier, my lady. I’m afraid that a blizzard blew through last night, covering the only path to the opening of the forest. If we try to trudge through the mounds of snow, we will surely get a bad case of frostbite or even hypothermia.” He explains as he cooks.

So that was why you kept experiencing sudden chills - he had to have a stray window open, you just didn't see it. “I don’t wish to die in the midst of a blizzard, so... I suppose I’m stuck here for a little while longer, then?” You hum quietly, not wanting to sound intruding as you point out the obvious. Hyunjin nods to himself at your observation while you make yourself comfortable at the dining table, admiring the chestnut color and plush seats.

“I’m afraid so - not to be rude, but may I know your name? Calling you my lady out of sheer politeness is beginning to sound somewhat redundant.” He questions you as he finishes cooking, placing the food he had made onto two separate plates before he brought them over to the dining table, setting one of them down in front of you. He sauntered over to the empty seat opposite of your own, munching on a slice of bread.

You look down at your own plate, nearly drooling at the uncommon scent of ham, fresh bread, and jam; commodities you weren’t able to enjoy on a daily basis. “No - you’re fine, Hyunjin. My name is Y/N.” You answer him, grabbing a fork and stabbing the ham so you can bring it up to your lips, munching on the meat with a quiet sigh of content.

He smiles to himself at your enjoyment, having grown accustomed to having practically the same meal every day for his own breakfast. “Y/N... such a pretty name,” Hyunjin can’t help but mutter, repeating your name like a mantra inside his damning thoughts. For some reason, putting a name to your face only made his heart race faster and faster in his chest, made his words knot together in his throat as he tried to continue the conversation. “H-how did you come into Cupid’s Forest, anyway, Y/N? Most people tend to avoid it because of the spirits, even if it is daytime.”

“Erm, well-” you hesitate to tell him the truth, engrossed with the elegant meal and the oddly caring aura that radiated from his curious figure. Would he be upset that a commoner had wandered inside his walls, his safe haven? “I was walking home, but I got distracted and sort of... stumbled into the forest... by accident?” The words you say come out more so as a question, as if you were silently praying for him to avoid asking you anything else.

Luck was not on your side, apparently.

“Is your home really so far from the main hub of the town? Why would you take such a long path in the middle of the night? Isn’t it dangerous-?”

“I’m a peasant, Hyunjin… I have no other choice.” You finally burst out to put a halt to his questions, your fingers gripping onto the handle of the fork while your eyelids squeeze shut in sheer embarrassment. Gods, you were wearing his clothes - his expensive, brilliant clothes! And here you were, admitting so clearly that you were but a peasant in his castle - you’d blown it.

“Oh... well... you must find a different path home, then.”

You cracked open an eye in confusion, peeping to see the boy in front of you still casually chewing on his breakfast. “W-what?”

“I don’t want you to accidently wander into the forest again, you might get hurt if I’m not there at the right time.” He insists with a furious blush, letting his unkept black hair dangle just in front of his eyes to hide how nervous he was. “... And, you can keep my clothes that you're wearing.”

The only thing you can utter out is a hushed, “thank you,” your own cheeks mimicking the beat red color that dusted his cheeks.

————————————————————————

The damned blizzard had lasted three days since then, meaning you had been gone from home just shy of a week, and even now the terrible weather showed little signs of letting up. They were not uncommon in such a cold season, of course, as you could recall experiencing shut-ins due to many a blizzard in your time. However, you could not once think back to an instance where the snowy storm had lasted for such a long period of time - that in itself worried you deeply.

Was your father alright, all alone in the hut you called a home? Would he be overworking himself to distract him from the thought of you being gone for so long?

Did Jisung make sure to shut all his windows as the storm hit? Was the blonde, passionate boy safe and eating well? After all, he couldn’t have known that you hadn’t made it home those days ago, not with how dangerous the weather conditions were outside.

What of the soldier who had bought one of your dresses? Would himself and his fellow soldiers bare the harsh, dropping temperatures in measly tents and spare scraps from a local inn? What of his pregnant wife and her younger brother - could the boy properly take care of them all alone?

“You’re thinking again, Y/N,” you’re ripped out of your thoughts by the boy next to you, the sleeves of his knitted, caramel brown sweater pushed all the way up to his elbows as he slaved away at the bottom pane of the giant window he was cleaning. On the third day of your stay in his castle, you finally caved and began to clean his dusty, dirt ridden home, and he had joined you in favor of being a gentleman... and to clean up his home, of course. “What’s on your mind?”

You pondered on how to answer Hyunjin’s question. It wasn’t invasive, no, but you tended to hesitate on the idea of your friends and family back in town; not that you didn’t care or worry for them, you simply didn’t care to dwindle on the idea of leaving the castle when the storm finally lifted. Should you elaborate on your worries aloud... perhaps it would bring that reality closer than you would like.

“I’m thinking about my father and friend, wondering if they’re safe in such a dangerous blizzard.” You admit with a hum, steadying yourself on the step of the ladder as you scrubbed away at the top window pane with a key diligence.

“I... I can’t promise that they will be alright, Y/N, but I wouldn’t worry too much. Worse has happened, surely a blizzard won’t put them in a vast amount of danger.”

“I think Jisung will be okay, but I worry for my father,” you explain with a sigh, unknowingly gripping onto the damp washcloth tighter and tighter the more you pondered the fate of the only family you had left. “He’s probably worried sick about me and is overworking himself since there’s no way he can possibly look for me with this weather. Not to mention w-we didn’t have a lot of food left in the pantry before I left that day - oh dear, he’s all alone!”

For some reason, the panic for your dear father only just begins to truly settle in. He wasn’t as young and healthy as some of the other men in your town, he would struggle to move the logs into the fireplace - oh, what if he couldn’t even start a decent fire? He would surely freeze! What of the food? Knowing him, he would be too busy fretting over your sudden disappearance and working to remember to eat enough to sustain himself-

“Y/N, love... come here.”

You unconsciously listen to the concerned boy stood beside the rickety ladder, reaching over to take his hand and walk yourself down back to the ground. Immediately he wraps his sweaty, toned arms around your waist, effectively pulling you into his warm chest. A wave of warmth floods your senses as he tries to comfort you as best as he possibly can, going as far as to gently press his palm to the back of your head and encourage you to rest into the crook of his neck.

“You have to relax, love,” Hyunjin says truthfully, slowly walking you over to one of the loveseats in the main living area, just outside of the dining room where you’d been cleaning moments ago. He sits back on the red cushions, carefully adjusting your body so you could fit on his lap; the close proximity made his heart do cartwheels like gymnasts in a circus, but he didn’t mind. All he wished for was to help you relax and calm down. “I... I’ll tell you a s-story, if you like. Maybe it can help you calm down.” He offers softly, glancing down and taking your slight nod against his neck as a yes.

“Hmm... once upon a time, there was a royal family from a far, far away land, where the sea was as blue as the skies and the beach stretched out from town to town. They were a happy little family of three, ruling over their promised land in content - until a nasty woman who claimed to be a goddess came down from the skies with a message. She said that their only child was too beautiful, too good for this mortal realm - that he didn’t deserve to be seen as he was by the people of their kingdom. The woman was jealous of the family, especially since they openly defied her very existence and those of her strange family,”

“So, she banished the three of them to a lone castle in a distant land, surrounded by vengeful ghosts and terrifying beasts who could tear them limb from limb if they wanted to. In her mind, she assumed that they would drop to their knees and beg her for her blessing, which in a way meant they would surrender to the very being that they had defied for so long. But she was terribly wrong - they stood by their beliefs, their morals, no matter what she did to them...”

He started to trail off, a lump growing in his throat. When you shifted in his hold, though, he quickly cleared his throat and continued.

“For months they would go into the nearby town and offer refuge to any who needed it, and by the sixth month of their stay at the castle, most of the rooms had been filled with thankful civilians; from nobles to peasants, all were welcome. Then, one night, their son was foolish enough to try and venture out of the castle in the middle of the night. He wandered into the forest all alone, seeking out a spirit - by his logic, he thought that he could help them move on to a better life, but he was wrong,”

“No, a spirit didn’t get ahold of him - a wild wolf did. It nipped at his legs, tearing the muscles from one of them so harshly that he would never be able to walk without a limp. The beast clawed at his face, ripping down a set of scars that wouldn’t heal properly, leaving him to look like a mangled mutt. One of the residents at the castle, a friend he called Seungmin, heard his cries all the way from inside his bedroom. He quickly brought out two other residents and somehow managed to rescue the prince, bringing him back home for his parents to see...”

“They recoiled, immediately swearing that the boy they had brought to them was not their son. They raged, stating vehemently that their son, a prince, was handsome and fit - the very opposite of the mangled boy at their feet. In a state of disbelief, they fled, never to be seen again. The goddess laughed at the prince’s misery at first, but grew furious when his friends insisted that looks didn’t matter, that he was still beautiful on the inside and on the outside. S-so... she cursed everyone living with the prince, turning his only friends into inanimate objects and forcing his body to return to its normal state. She said, that whenever he fell in love and kissed the person of his dreams, he would revert back to his ugly form from the attack - sure to scare away the only other person who could ever love him... the end.”

You whine into the crook of his neck, dissatisfied with the ending of his story. “The prince has to be happy, Hyunjin… I think that his love will stay with him, he sounds lovely, after all.” You insist with a light yawn.

The boy chuckles half-heartedly at your words, using his fingers to soothingly rub your back and encourage you to sleep. He found it amusing how you were so far from the truth, yet so close at the same time - you even knew he was a prince, apparently. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Hyunjin mumbles, eyes glazed over in sadness. “But he isn’t as lovely as you might think, love. He drove his own parents away-”

He pauses mid-sentence when he hears a light snore escape your parted lips, looking down once more with a fond sensation crawling into his heart. Your cheek was pressed against his shoulder, a tiny bit of drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, but he didn’t dare try to move you away from him.

Not when this was as close as he could possibly get to you without ruining everything.

————————————————————————

You weren’t sure how you ended up back in the bed of the guest room, truth be told. The last thing you could fully remember was Hyunjin telling you a story, with you curled up in his lap - oh... and hadn't the story been awfully sad, as well?

Perhaps you could ask him at breakfast. Yes, that is what you would do; had he heard the story from a book, or did he know the prince in the tale himself? It sounded so, so familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

With a huff you slide out of bed, running your fingers through your messy hair as you stand and look to the bedside table, expecting to see another fresh bundle of his clothes for you to wear; but nothing was there, nothing at all. Maybe you had woken up before him, for once.

Not wanting to go out and see Hyunjin in dirty, likely stinky clothes, you hop over to the closet by the window, opening it up and searching its contents for a top and trousers. Soon you come across a plain gray sweater and green trousers - that would do.

Slipping the new clothes on, which were a tad bit smaller than Hyunjin’s, you fix your hair as best as you can, taking a quick, nonchalant peek out the window. Your jaw gaped in shock at what you saw, or rather, lack of what you saw. All the snow had melted, leaving remnants of the blizzard by the traces of white on the leaves of the trees on the prickly grass. The blizzard had come and gone - meaning that you could finally go home... away... from the castle, away from Hyunjin.

Why was it so hard to accept? You knew that you would have to go home at some point, but you had come to enjoy being at the castle... being treated as an equal. You - you enjoyed being with Hyunjin.

Feeling less enthusiastic than before, you trudge out of the guest bedroom, heading straight for the staircase. Unknowingly, you look at the rose in its dome, blinking sadly as you realize that only one petal remained. The others had since wilted off the flower, deemed worthy to only float in the space of the small glass cylinder. It seemed as if both you and the rose had succumbed to an eerie sort of sadness.

You finally find Hyunjin in the library, his nimble fingers slowly tracing the black ink of the novel he was currently engrossed in. His midnight black hair had been combed neatly to reveal the true, soft nature of his head of hair, though instead of the usual cuffed shirt or sweater, he now donned a long sleeved white top and black vest, his dark trousers held up with a belt that was decorated with a single sword nestled in the hilt.

“Good morning, Hyunjin,” you greet the boy in a soft manner as to not startle him, smiling bittersweetly at his cute jump of surprise and the noise that escapes his throat. Turning to face you, he opens his mouth to speak, only to fall silent. His sharp gaze runs up and down your body, a hint of... a scowl, of all things, gracing his features.

“Morning, love,” Hyunjin puffed after a moment of utter silence, sweeping his gaze straight back up to meet your own confused one, “... my clothes are outside your door, I didn’t want to accidently wake you up so early today. Go change.”

“I - excuse me?”

He flushes at his harsh tone, quickly shutting the book in the palms of his hands and pushing it into the bookshelf, back in its original spot. “S-sorry... I um, I just - this is your last d-day here... I would like for you to wear my clothes, I guess.” The soft-spoken boy finally admits with a burst of semi-confidence, catching the both of you by surprise.

“I - would... like to wear them, I guess,” you echo him sheepishly, feeling a wave of heat crash into your cheeks, cursing yourself for blushing so easily in front of the boy. He visibly brightens at your words, straightening his posture to appear less nervous.

“Good - I mean, great! W-we should-” he’s harshly interrupted by a pounding sound from the front door of his castle, causing both of you to freeze in surprise; you, more with confusion, him, more with fear. Hyunjin was no fool, he knew of the rumors surrounding his castle - his life. No one dared to approach his castle on their own good will, he had learned that lesson long ago. “Stay behind me, Y/N.” The prince ushers you behind his figure in haste, one hand holding your hip to keep you safe while the other rested by the hilt of his sword. He knew you would try to follow him if he pushed you into another room, so he figured keeping you behind him would be better than nothing.

Slowly but surely, he walks towards the front door, leading you out of the library and to the tall entryway. Whoever is on the other side is persistent in their knocking, furiously pounding on the dark wood as if their life depended on it. Hyunjin carefully opened the door, breath hitching in his throat at the sight before him.

A crowd of soldiers and townspeople were gathered at the front of his castle, brandishing either torches, rakes, shovels, or in the worst case, swords.

“Y-Y/N! Sweetheart!” A booming voice snaps you out of your wonder - no, it couldn’t be, right? Still, you peek around Hyunjin’s arm, nearly crying out in relief when you see your father. “Get away from my little girl, you foul beast!” He calls out to the boy stood frozen in front of you, waving his lit torch around threateningly.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Hyunjin was no beast, he had saved you, protected you - treated you like a real person. “Father, you must be mistaken,” you answer him in bewilderment, causing a ruffle in the crowd, “Hyunjin - he’s the only reason I’m even alive right now. He saved me from the spirits and gave me shelter in the blizzard.”

The crowd of civilians and soldiers brush off your words with no hesitation, a few of them stepping closer to brandish their weapons at the raven haired boy. His grip loosens on your hip, until his hand falls completely off of your body. “No, he’s right, love. I - I am a monster.” Hyunjin whispers, much to the satisfaction of those throwing insults at him.

“That’s bullshit, Hyunjin,” you curse at him in hurt as he tries to back away and let you go to your waiting father. You can barely make out the sound of your father insisting for you to come to him where it’s ‘safe,’ as well as Jisung calling out your name in pure confusion. Yet, you don't move, choosing to stand your ground in front of the wilting boy. “You are anything but a monster. Why - why would you think anything like that?”

“B-because I am the prince in the story, Y/N!” He shouts in pure, heartbroken fury, lifting his head to meet your concerned gaze, his brown eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. “The real me is ugly and unlovable - fuck, I was so ugly that my own parents ran away, and they died because of it! If I hadn’t been so fucking stupid, I wouldn’t have been attacked! I - I wouldn’t be a monster that scared his own mother and father so much that they would run from the only safety they knew, only to get killed by the other beasts in this damned forest!”

You hear the people behind you shifting, as this had been the first time anyone had confirmed any of the boy’s backstory - and it came from the prince himself. The prince...

“The second I kiss my one true love, they will see what I truly look like! T-they will run away in horror at how fucking disgusting I am - and I can damn well prove it...” Hyunjin breathes heavily, throat sore from his screams of rage, of pain - of loss. Without a second thought, he pushes away any hope he has left in his soul, stepping forward to cup your cheeks in the palms of his warm hands.

The heartbroken boy brings your lips to his own, passionately kissing you with everything he had left - he just knew that the second you opened your eyes, you would run. You had only known him for six full days, there was no possible way you had fallen for him like he had for you - but he knew you were the only person for him. The second you had stepped into his castle, one of the petals from the rose Aphrodite ‘gifted’ him had wilted, revealing that his time as the handsome prince he used to be would be over soon.

And this - this was that time.

When Hyunjin pulls away, you slowly open your eyes and see him. There’s a set of scars running from his hairline all the way down to his bottom lip, the flesh not fully healed from the devastating attack. You glance down, spotting his left leg, once normal, now lame and slightly wobbly. He has to lean against you to hold himself up, but he clearly expects you to push him to the cold, damp ground and flee back to your father’s arms.

You kiss him. You kiss him with all the love you can muster, bringing your fingers to his scarred face and tracing the wounded skin as if you were mapping him out for the first time. In just a measly six days, you had truly fallen for the lonely but sweet prince, loving him for his soft-spoken words and nervous stumbles, his cooking that certainly needed some work, his talent for storytelling - for him.

When you pull away, you smile up at the stunned prince, eyes flickering all across his beautiful face. Scars or no scars, he radiated warmth, and he looked just the same to you.

“H-hey, where did you come from!?” A soldier suddenly calls out in surprise, causing both you and Hyunjin to look towards the entrance of his castle in confusion. His eyes light up when three other boys stumble into the sunlight, all wearing different styles of clothes and donning differently colored hair.

“Woojin, Chan, Seungmin - h-how?” Hyunjin stuttered in utter shock, leaning against your side for support since he couldn’t properly walk towards them.

One of them steps closer, glancing between you and his friend with an amused glint to his gaze. “I guess Aphrodite gave up since your girl didn’t run away - oh, by the way, you’re wearing my clothes, miss.” The brunette boy hums with a cheeky smirk. You blink, glancing up at a flushed Hyunjin in quiet amusement.

So that was why he wanted you to change back into his clothes.

“I - I suppose you’re right, Seungmin,” he breathes out softly, happily squeezing your hip as he turns to face the mumbling crowd. “S-sir, please - I know I’m the farthest example of a man you could ever expect, but... I truly love Y/N.”

You turn in his grip to face your father, who narrows his eyes almost suspiciously at the black haired boy holding onto you. And then, he says, “- welcome to the family, my boy!”

Wait -

Your pudgy father waddles over to you, placing a hand on both you and Hyunjin’s shoulders. “I suppose if anyone can win my daughter’s heart, I must approve. I’m afraid some of these men in town are only after her because she’s so damn pretty. She’s much more than just a pretty face, you know!”

“Trust me, sir, I’m well aware,” Hyunjin laughs quietly, fondly looking at you once more.

“Sorry about the soldiers and shit,” your friend from town speaks up, having finally pushed through the bustling crowd and approached the little group, “we all thought you were like, a murderer or something. Rumors and all, not too kind to you.” Jisung apologizes with a sheepish laugh, all the while shaking Hyunjin’s hand.

At the mention of the awful rumors, a majority of the crowd quietly apologizes as well before dispersing; after all, a mere boy was no real threat to them, not when they learned the truth.

You smile up at Hyunjin, stepping up on your tip-toes to reach his mouth, pressing a faint kiss to the corner of his lips, just above part of his scar. He blushes furiously and does the same to you, resting his forehead against yours, his soft breaths fanning against your lips.

“Thank you, love.”

————————————————————————

981 notes · View notes

catfishandthebottlefan · 6 years ago

Text

#4 - The Day We Got Signed

A/N - I don’t know where I got this idea from, but I love it because it’s super fluffy and happy! Note - I know Bondy wasn’t in the band when they got signed, but I don’t feel like I know Billy well enough to write his character, so we can just pretend it’s Bondy for now :P Enjoy the read :) ~ A x

You look at the clock.

“It’s been three hours. Come on Van. Phone me.” you think, pouring boiling water into your Pot Noodle.

All you know is Van and the lads are at a meeting with a record label.

“Y/N babe, this could be it, y’know,” he had said to you before leaving your flat, and getting in the van with the boys.

Catfish and the Bottlemen had been quite unsuccessful thus far. The largest crowd they’d played to so far was 50, although Van seemed very proud of this.

“We’ve played to half a hundred people!” he’d say, “We’re practically famous.”

The boys would play along, falling under the spell of Van’s incessant optimism. Even you believed that, one day, they’d make it big. Although you were living in student accommodation, paid for by your worryingly large loan, you knew that, one day, you and Van would have your own home. Whether it was paid for as a result of Van’s tenacity with the band, or your degree in Biomedical Science, one day, you would make it in life.

You sit at the kitchen “table” - a mountain of pizza boxes collected over 3 months. Bondy broke your real table by standing on it. Why he did that, nobody knew, but you were all high as fuck and nobody cared at the time. You cared now, but there was nothing you could do, as you were broke and didn’t have the audacity to ask your parents to buy you a new table. So, you coped with the pizza boxes.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see your phone screen light up. Your heart leaps. Could it be Van? Your stomach somersaults as the loud ringtone occupies the whole room.

~Incoming Call~Larry🍻~

You prepare yourself for any kind of news when you answer the phone. It wasn’t like Larry to call you; usually it would be Van. You didn’t know whether to be excited or worried. After one least deep breath, you swipe the green icon across the screen, your hand shaking.

“Larry?” you say, excitedly.

“They’ve fucking done it, Y/N.”

You squeal ecstatically, punching the air in sheer joy. Tears fill your eyes and your voice begins to shake.

“They’ve been signed?!”

“I can’t believe it,” Larry replies, his voice shaking also, “The lads are in the meetings room signing some legal documents and shit-”

You burst into tears, the smile on your face stretching from ear to ear.

“Larry, mate!” you almost scream, “Fucks sake! I can’t believe it!”

“You should’ve seen Van’s face when he came out of the like, little room thing they were talking about the album in,” Larry babbles enthusiastically, “I wasn’t allowed in because, like, formalities and shit, but, mate, they’ve fucking smashed it!”

You are lost for words as you sit on the floor of your flat, tears streaming down your face. Your heart is filled to the brim with pride for Van and the boys.

You hear Larry talking to someone in the background.

“Y/N, it’s Van, they’re out the room thingy, he says-”

“Y/N!” you hear Van cry through the phone. He must have snatched it from Larry,

“Van, I’m so fucking proud of you.” you utter, shakily.

“I love you so so so much,” You hear Van sob through the other end of the phone, “We’re done now, we’ll be back in a couple of hours, oh my, I can’t believe it!”

“I always knew Catfish would come through.” You tell Van, sincerely, despite your voice still wavering through your tears of elation.

As you hang up the phone, you lean back against the wall. Your head feels light and you can’t think straight due to the pure pride filling your chest. You sit for a minute, then decide you’ve got to throw these lads the best party they’ve ever been to. They deserve it, after all.

---

It’s been an hour and a half since Van hung up the phone, and the fridge is stacked to the brim with various types of beer, some cider, and a few bottles of vodka. You’ve placed some tobacco, papers, filters, and as much weed as you could afford on the “table”. You couldn’t afford a new table, but you could put the booze on the overdraft. Well, that’s what you told yourself.

Your old-fashioned record player is set up, with your growing stack of vinyls towering next to it - the place was set up for an epic party. All you needed now were the boys. You perch on the edge of your sofa, looking out of the window. All you can see is the quad, with some students sitting on a bench having a smoke. No Catfish and the Bottlemen.

Suddenly, you spot a familiar leather jacket, followed by a familiar pair of afros and a familiar hat. The boys.

You race to the phone resting by your front door, ready to open it for the boys even before they’ve pressed the intercom. You pull down the latch and swing the door open, to be lifted off the ground before your eyes even meet Van’s.

“Babe, can you fucking believe it?” he cries, elated, “We’ve made it.”

You kiss his lips passionately, until Bondy’s moans of “Get a room” cause Van to put you down. His sparkling blue eyes are teary, and his cheeks red from crying. Benji and Bob look overcome with happiness. You hug them both, kissing them each on the cheek, causing them to both blush equally. You hug Bondy enthusiastically.

“Johnny Bond,” you say, “You’re officially a guitarist now.”

“Oh, piss off!” he replies, sarcastically, but still laughing, “I was always a guitarist!”

“Larry lid,” You hug Larry last, “Well done, mate.”

Van bursts into the kitchen, going straight for the fridge, pulling out beer after beer, tossing them to each person. Everyone catches their drink effortlessly, and cracks the cans open almost simultaneously.

You move into the living room and put Last Nite by The Strokes on the record player. A popular song, but a classic. It reminded you of the day you met Van and the lads in that busy pub after Catfish and the Bottlemen had performed to only you. You chuckled at the fact that the band nobody once turned up to see had now been signed by a real record label.

Van flops onto the sofa next to you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. Bob snaps a Polaroid of you both cosied up, the lit joint in Van’s mouth causing a puff of smoke over your faces. Larry sits at the “table” rolling everyone’s spliffs. Benji sits with Bondy on the other couch, sipping their beers straight from the can. This is the kind of atmosphere you’ll treasure forever, you think.

The chorus comes on, and Van puts his pint on the floor. He pulls you up off of the sofa, holding both of your hands, the joint still hanging out of his mouth.

“Last night, she said,” He belts out, in perfect timing.

The whole group sings back the next line, and you sing “Oh, it turns me off” on your own. This causes laughter to erupt amongst everybody.

Hours slip by as you laugh and joke with the group, the atmosphere one of jubilation.

It’s nearing 4am. Bob is face down on your floor and Bondy has fallen asleep on the sofa with Benji slumped next to him. Larry is sleeping on Van’s lap. Van giggles as he strokes Larry’s forehead jokingly. You’re both high as fuck, as usual at 4am.

“I think I have a lecture tomorrow,” you laugh.

“Me too.” Van replies.

“No you don’t,” you reply, hysterical with laughter.

It takes a few attempts, but you manage to sweep Van’s hair out of his eyes. You get up and change the record to a compilation of The Kooks’ songs. First is Sofa Song - fitting, as you sit on your sofa, next to Van and Larry.

“You’re so amazing,” you say, wistfully, getting lost in Van’s blue eyes.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, babes.” he slurs, staring down at you.

As the sun begins to rise, and most people lie slumbering, dreaming of alternate realities, you feel like everything is as it should be. This time last year, Van was perhaps dreaming of being signed. Now, his dream was a reality.

You curl up next to the love of your life, as he lazily wraps his arm around you. Luke Pritchard sings Runaways softly from the record player. Life is good.

#catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #larry lau #bondy #benji blakeway #bob hall #fluff #fanfiction #happy

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i-imsickofit-overit · 7 years ago

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From God we come, to God we return.

I never thought we would part, You always told me love came from the heart not from the brain. And even now your name strains at my eyes, until tears fall from them.

Its sad to have someone you know become someone you knew, even now I stew at the memories and how they flood my mind like a damn, you were always so kind.

How could He take you from us. Your light shone like a halo glistening above your head, and I remember all those things you said. About how good life was.

Your life held so much promise, just as you gave your daughter a kiss, and as you worked so hard to give her happiness, it fell apart so fast.

Nothing really lasts. You talked of medical school and even in the tightly wound spool of your life you found the strength to survive.

But eventually in time your time runs out like sand through your fingertips, oh how the smile would form at your lips.

your athletics and songs brought everybody along with you on your journey and when you left, we didn’t know what to do, now we just sit and wonder, at what could have been.

Every time I walk through that door, my eyes hit the floor at the remembrance of you there sitting in that chair, I feel like i’m waiting for something that isn’t going to happen.

I know I’ll never see you again but I still feel that you’re with me in everything action, I remember your passion as it drove through me like a knife.

You held such optimism. You got surgery to remove what held you back, reminded us of how our smile now cracks. At the slightest memory of you.

You held our hearts like you’d hold us in your arms in that hug of yours where we felt like we were being swallowed in love, no harm.

Your comedy is ironic because it once made us laugh and now we just lack that feeling of pure joy that radiated out of your eyes.

The thing that you’d do was unique to only you, as you’d chuckle with your tongue between your teeth. I remembered that feeling of 100% peace.

Your mind was smart as you created art with the words you would say making our day go from bad to good. Remember how you stood.

Confident, and powerful, now the piece in my soul will never be full. You left us empty, but you filled us to our brim and carried us with grace. No one will ever take your place.

That day we got the call, I had never felt so small, my vulnerability burning through me like a fire, my desire now burnt out In a pile of ashes.

The gashes in my heart bled with the sorrow of knowing that tomorrow I wouldn’t be able to see you. I broke down.

Makeup ran down my face like I ran away from the possibility, this had to be some cruel joke. The cries from my chest, now a mere croak.

You couldn’t be gone, the ache in my head is like a song to distract me from reality. A perfect duality to remind me of what death versus life is.

When I saw you laying there with perfectly placed hair and white linen on your body I couldn’t help asking why would God want to take somebody. Who made everything seem ok.

Favinn Maynard God gave us you for such a short time, and we all stood in that line for the chance to be with you once again.

One year has gone by and we all just can’t help but wonder why. You were a perfect mother, worker, student, and friend. But everything must come to an end.

When you passed in your sleep i couldn’t keep the thought out of my head, I had seen her yesterday, and now she’s dead. What if i could tell her how much I admired her.

But now all my memories are a blur because I took them for granted. I never had such a friend, not just something but someone without end.

And even still my heart lingers to you. I loved you with it, not only with my mind, how could I have been so blind. To the deception of a thought that you would last forever.

Now the love for you still will burn and in this I remember what was said, From god we come, to god we return.

I still yearn to see you one last time, we lost a friend, but God gained an angel with wings, and I know you’ll still sing glory and beauty upon us.

Even when you’re not here, you still are even in heaven and in this we remember- Enos 1:27.

#writing #poetry #sad #memories #favinn #spilledink #creativity #poetryslam #poetryriot

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muzaffar1969 · 8 years ago

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http://ift.tt/2rIsYa0

The Brahm Prakash Hall at SHAR (Sriharikota High Altitude Range) brims with engineers shuffling their data sheets and reports. They speak excitedly to each other about their subsystems. To a stranger, however technically advanced, their exchanges sound like Greek and Latin, riddled with acronyms and jargon. Only the assembly of 400-odd engineers can understand each other perfectly.

The Mission Readiness Review (MRR) is in session. We are just a few days away from a major launch campaign. Each of the engineers responsible for a particular subsystem is getting ready to go on stage and present details of the tests carried out on it. Problems, solutions, tests, last-minute tweaks—everything is covered.

The group is an amazing mix of veterans and greenhorns and everyone in between. Anyone who is part of the project and has something to say is there. I sit next to the chairman and senior centre directors. Retired pioneers like me who are experienced experts in certain fields form an integral part of the MRR. To the newest recruit attending an MRR for the first time it is a thrilling and challenging experience.

As one of the senior engineers finishes his presentation, a voice from the last row raises an issue. It is a junior engineer. There is absolute silence as everyone in the room gives him a patient hearing. The engineer who is making the presentation takes notes and gives a detailed response. It really does not matter that the questioner is quite junior in the hierarchy, for in that hall there is absolute technical democracy and no voice is stifled. Everyone knows that many an important issue has come to light at an MRR and at times major failures have been averted because someone raised a pertinent question.

The MRR epitomizes the functioning of ISRO, where the work ethics had evolved over the years. Democracy has always been the key word. Every issue raised is analysed and addressed with utmost seriousness. This in turn has yielded results which are unique and unusual in a government-run scientific department.

Homi Bhabha, the innovator who changed the bureaucratic style of running scientific organizations, made sure that scientists determined their own policies. He also insisted that they were the administrative heads of their organizations and were answerable only to the prime minister. ISRO under Sarabhai followed the same path, with more procedural innovations suited to the unforgiving nature of space technology.

Openness has been the hallmark of ISRO in all its activities. The MRR is just one example. Whether it is in the planning process or long-term goals definition, budget formulation or progress reviews, design reviews, quality and reliability assessment, recruitment or promotion of personnel, transparency has always played a vital role.

Because of its strategic nature, space technology is closely guarded by its creators. ISRO therefore had to develop its own technology from scratch with a great deal of trial and error. But our results have always been open for free scrutiny by the public. Failures and successes in our field are splashed across the sky for all to see. Our major missions are conducted in the full glare of live media spotlight and the world can learn in real time of our success or failure.

Today, we are no longer a mere handful of engineers experimenting with sounding rockets. The annual budget of the organization was a few lakhs of rupees in 1963. This has grown to several thousand crores. ISRO has more than 20,000 employees. In fact, we are now seriously trying not to add to the numbers by transferring repetitive work to the industry.

But most importantly, ISRO has built a strong and confident human resource pool ready to take on many more challenges. Advanced countries have recognized that ISRO is on par with many developed countries in the field of space technology. And we achieved this by ourselves, on a shoestring budget. The average Indian is proud of ISRO’s achievements and that means a lot to us.

Our centres are seamlessly filled with fresh technical personnel every decade without any discontinuity of the programmes. Most of the technical manpower is drawn from graduates from all over the country who come from lesser-known institutions. and many of these engineers and scientists have turned out to be outstanding leaders in their own fields.

By the late 1990s, when the IT boom in the country hit our programmes, our young recruits were lured away with fat salaries. But the trend reversed when the government revised its salaries upwards and offered lifelong perks which could never be matched by the IT firms. More importantly, ISRO still had exciting programmes compared to the mindnumbing jobs the software companies had to offer. Slowly the young people began to trickle back.

Around that time I was asked by the then chairman, Kasturirangan, to tour the ISRO centres and talk to the scientists and engineers, particularly the young ones, to find out what they felt about their work environment. I visited all the centres and spoke to them about their joys and frustrations, and asked them what needed to be done to keep them at ISRO.

Two surprising findings came through. one, that they all were quite happy with their assignments and the visibility of the overall goals of the organization vis-à-vis their contributions. Two, the salary differences between ISRO and the private organizations did not bother them as much as we had feared. Their complaints were more mundane ones about the non-availability of high-speed internet connections and access to PCs. We were able to tackle these issues quite easily over the next couple of months.

ISRO today is often held up as an example of a particularly well-run and result-oriented government organization.

[…]

The ISRO family has considerable job satisfaction because we can see for ourselves the application of our contribution to national development. We have even been able to monetize our products even though we are not a commercial organization. For example, today, products and services including satellite launch services are made available to national and international users on a commercial basis through ISRO’s commercial arm, the Antrix Corporation.

By 2015, within a short span of forty-odd years, ISRO had built and launched seventy-two satellites of increasing complexities. Our own remote sensing satellites, communication satellites and science satellites circled the earth in polar and geosynchronous orbits. The Chandrayaan moon mission and the Mars Orbiter Mission caught the imagination of the nation. The capability of ISRO in the satellite-building area rivalled that of the most advanced countries of the world and the data from the satellites were in demand internationally

Side by side, by 2015 more than twenty-five successful launches of PSLV had taken place successively, setting a kind of international record. With regular improvements in performance and optimization, the payload capacity increased from 1000 kg to about 1850 kg, depending on the choice of configuration.

The PSLV vehicle, now internationally recognized as a highly reliable and cost-effective rocket, is much soughtafter by various countries for launching their remote sensing satellites into sun synchronous polar orbits. Variants of PSLV launched the lunar mission, the Mars Orbiter Mission and even a small GSAT synchronous satellite. Our own fleet of remote-sensing satellites is also performing excellently. And so are the large INSAT communication spacecraft orbited aboard Ariane rockets.

By this time so many chairmen have come and gone—Sarabhai, MGK Menon, Dhawan, UR Rao, Kasturirangan, Madhavan Nair and Radhakrishnan—and not once was there a glitch in the programme because the man at the helm had changed. In 2015 at a GSLV launch when an important Indian-made cryostage proved its worth, I realized something exciting. Almost every single person at the helm, right from the ISRO chairman down to the mission director, was new! They had all assumed charge just a few months before.

Excerpted with permission from HarperCollins Publishers India from the book, ISRO: A Personal Story, authored by R Aravamudan, a senior space scientist, and Gita Aravamudan, a journalist. We welcome your comments at [email protected].

May 22, 2017 at 09:29AM http://ift.tt/2qKt5V2 from R. Aravamudan and Geeta Aravamudan http://ift.tt/2qKt5V2

#Technology

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giveuselife-blog · 8 years ago

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How Technology Has Changed Society in the Advertising Industry

New Post has been published on https://giveuselife.org/how-technology-has-changed-society-in-the-advertising-industry/

How Technology Has Changed Society in the Advertising Industry

The advertising industry has always made optimum use of the latest technology available throughout the years.

“If you don’t get noticed, you don’t have anything. You just have to be noticed, but the art is in getting noticed naturally, without screaming or without tricks.”– Leo Burnett

Sounds a lot like the advertising of yore, doesn’t it? Of course, when we consider the person who said it, it just seems like a line out of a gospel. The dynamics in the creative sphere of the advertising world have certainly evolved, and how!

Isn’t it incredible how a glimpse of a billboard, the right-side panel of a web page, or a twelve second commercial on TV can convince us into believing that what our life lacks right now is that one product which they happen to be selling? How a jar of moisturizer can help a woman hitch the man of her dreams. How a shaving gel can help a guy get a place on the football team. Amazing isn’t it? That’s the power of creative advertising for you. Creativity and Advertising: A Perfect Marriage

Creativity and profitability usually never see eye to eye – one wanting to push the boundaries of innovative selling concepts, the other wanting it to be restrained within the prescribed budget. So, what is it that makes them blend together and weave magic? Technology, of course!

The advertising industry has pioneered the use of technology ever since it came into being, and we’re talking about the disturbing times when a major part of ad revenue came from slave auction ads. Yes, this was probably how advertising as we now know it, was born.

A few years later, with the advent of commercial European goods into the Union, there arose this incessant need to put products “out there” where consumers could see them, and decide on buying them. A few years down the line, with the birth of competitive markets, came in the stipulation of advertising.

Print space was precious – it was all about tapping the potential of newspapers. Magazines came in later, and specialty magazines followed. Now, creativity involved limiting the sales pitch within an inch-by-inch space. These ads rarely left anything to the imagination – the focus was on the product, and a solid, clear copy was always provided. Here are a few examples… Hold the future in your hand (Sony Television) Colored telephones (Western Electric) Pink is for girls (Lustre crème)

No whacky ideas were allowed here, mind you. These were the times when people read the fine print that was a part of the advertisement, attention-grabbing visuals were more the exception, rather than the rule. I once wrote that Dove made soap “obsolete”, only to discover that the majority of housewives did not know what the word meant. I had to change it to “old-fashioned”.- David Ogilvy

Innovation in printing brought these adverts to life, bringing them out from the last few pages to out in the front. Pages began to get glossier, and the advertisements, more vivid.

The Jingles Phase: Creativity Blossoms Radio had a huge number of people hooked on to it, and advertisers realized its potential soon enough. The first radio commercial was aired way back in 1922, and has since steadily churned out memorable jingles one after the other. Remember this?

Hot dogs, Armour hot dogs What kind of kids eat Armour Hot Dogs? Fat kids, skinny kids, kids who climb on rocks Tough kids, sissy kids, even kids with chickenpox love hot dogs, Armour Dot Dogs The dogs kids love to bite!

The popularity of radio did take a beating when televisions burst on to the scene, however, this was only temporary. Radio continues to be a bastion for some major brands as well as minor ones, attracting a wide audience, spawning all age groups.

Technological advancements have created the world we’re living in today, that’s brimming with commercialism. Advertisements are everywhere we look – in newspapers and magazines we read at breakfast, on the radio as we drive to work, on billboards that can’t be missed from our office windows, on coasters in bars that we frequent for an evening drink, on TV when we’re having dinner, and not to mention the inundation on the Internet. In short, advertisements are around us, every waking moment of our lives, all thanks to the technology that helps placing them there.

“It’s in our biology to trust what we see with our eyes. This makes living in a carefully edited, overproduced and photoshopped world very dangerous.”―Brené Brown

Advertisers today, see every inch of space as a canvas – be it on pavement blocks, or Facebook. It goes without saying that our world pretty much functions on advertising. Unfortunately, though, this technology-fueled advertising wagon-wheel is slowly running out of steam, and it has only itself to blame.

Was Technology the Nemesis of Creativity?

In a short word – yes. In the eighties, with the advent of computers, the face and functions of advertising underwent a sea change. Not only did technology reform the way in which agencies created advertisements, but it also expanded the horizons for advertising.

Graphics and animation came into play; it wasn’t all about words on paper anymore. Visuals took over in a big manner, and the words were only added as an afterthought (if required). Art direction took precedence over copywriting as conceptualizing began to be more “visual”. Creativity veered in a different direction, but not before it optimized the meaning of milking the visual medium.

“The biggest mistake young designers make is that they try to make their advertising look like advertising“- Jeff Goodby

Advertising, as we now know it, is on a downward spiral. It is everywhere, and by that I mean in-your-face-everywhere. Fliers stuck on windshields, subway escalators, everywhere. Hell, even if you wish to download a commercial-free app, you have to pay for it.

You read it right. We’re now living in a world where advertisements have become so irksome, that we have to shell out money to get rid of them. Companies do make money through means like these. Established brands make sales, no matter what. Creativity, the poor old maiden has definitely taken a beating in this mess where any publicity is good publicity.

“Advertising is fundamentally persuasion and persuasion happens to be not a science, but an art.”– Bill Bernbach

An art, that relies heavily on technology to survive.

What is the Impact of Technology on Our Society? A Critical Analysis

How has technology affected society? How has it influenced living? Well, while technology has made life easy, it has also made us lazy. Let us look at the positive and negative impact of technology on society.

When we speak of the impact of technology on society, we always talk about the positive effects of technology and about how technology has made life easy. We talk about the Internet as an information resource and a communication platform and conveniently ignore the fact that an overexposure to it leads to Internet addiction. We often discuss how technology has made life easy but easily forget that it has made us overly dependent on it. Have you thought of the impact of technology from this point of view? Let us look at this aspect of technology here.

Impact of Technology on Society

Think of the days when there were no computers and no modern means of transport. Human life was highly restricted due to the unavailability of technological applications. Daily life involved a lot of physical activity. Life of the common man was not as luxurious as that of modern times, but he was more active. Exercise was integrated into routine physical activities. It was contrary to the sedentary lifestyle of today, which leaves no time for exercise and fills days with inactivity and laze. Today we don’t want to, and thanks to the advancement in technology, don’t even need to walk, move around, or exert ourselves physically to great extents in order to get things done. We have the world at our fingertips.

We think of technology as a boon to society. I am afraid; it’s not completely a boon. The Internet has bred many unethical practices like hacking, spamming and phishing. Internet crime is on the rise. The Internet, being an open platform lacks regulation. There is no regulation on the content displayed on websites. Internet gambling has become an addiction for many. Overexposure to the Internet has taken its toll. In this virtual world, you can be who you are not, you can be virtually living even after you die. Isn’t this weird? Children are spending all their time playing online and less or almost no time playing on the ground. Youngsters are spending most of their time social networking, missing on the joys of real social life.

Think of the days when there were no online messengers, no emails, and no cell phones. Indeed cellular technology has made it possible for us to communicate over wireless media. Web communication facilities have worked wonders in speeding long-distance communication. On the other hand, they have deprived mankind of the warmth of personal contact. Emails replaced handwritten letters and communication lost its personal touch. With the means of communication so easily accessible, that magic in waiting to reach someone and the excitement that followed have vanished.

Moreover, we have become excessively dependent on technology. Is so much of dependency good? Is it right to rely on machines to such an extent? Is it wise to depend on computers rather than relying on human intellect? Computer technology and robotics are trying to substitute for human intellect. With the fast advancing technology, we have started harnessing artificial intelligence in many fields. Where is the digital divide going to take us? How is our ‘tomorrow’ going to be? ‘Machines replacing human beings’ does not portray a rosy picture, does it? It can lead to serious issues like unemployment and crime. An excessive use of machines in every field can result in the under-utilization of human brains. Over time, we may even lose our intellectual abilities. You know of the declining mathematical abilities in children due to use of calculators since school, don’t you?

The impact of technology on society is deep. It is both positive and negative. Technology has largely influenced every aspect of living. It has made life easy, but so easy that it may lose its charm some day. One can cherish an accomplishment only if it comes after effort. But everything has become so easily available due to technology that it has lost its value. There is a certain kind of enjoyment in achieving things after striving for them. But with everything only a few clicks away, there is no striving, there’s only striking. With the developments in technology, we may be able to enjoy all the pricey luxuries in life but at the cost of losing its priceless joys.

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