#response to Cicada Incident...

[kleinstar]

Beep!!! Beep beep beep beep beep!

SEND “BEEP” FOR A RANDOM TEXT FROM MY MUSE. (ACCEPTING)

CONCERNED TEXT

[txt] YUKI??? [txt] THATS AMAZING AND ALL [txt] you're reaaaaaaally skilled but [txt] are you ok???!!!!?????

[magic-shop-stories]

Hiii! I have this scenario stuck in my head and I just know you’re the only one who can bring it to life the way it truly deserves. So—OT7 with twins! One of them is more sensitive and ‘high maintenance’ in the eyes of the parents, which unintentionally causes the other—who’s more outgoing and easygoing—to feel a bit overlooked and neglected. I’d love to see how you’d explore the dynamic between them!

💌 Reply:

hiii, sweetie🌸 first of all THANK YOU for trusting me with this precious idea! it hit me right in the heart (and as a fellow overthinker, I get the twin dynamics struggle 😭)... I hope these headcanons did your vision justice! 💜 (also, soooo sorry for the lack of pics this time... the wifi on german trains is fighting me, and the person next to me kept side-eyeing my screen like i was plotting world domination- I wish people could just mind their own buisness... ugh If you’d like, I’d love to expand this into a full imagine someday... let me know! (I'll do it as soon as I have time, but the current amount of request and my full schedule are killing me atm) – c - 🧸

BTS OT7 x Twins Headcanons

NAMJOON

TWINS: MINJI & JISUNG

Ages: 6 years old Personalities:

Minji (Daughter)

sensitive

introspective

artistically gifted

bursts into tears if her crayon snaps or her toast is "too crunchy"

loves sketching bugs and writing haikus about clouds

diagnosed with sensory processing disorder

hates loud noises, tags on clothes, and the smell of bananas

Jisung (Son)

outgoing

adventurous

mechanically inclined

builds elaborate Lego cities

climbs trees to "study birds"

hides his loneliness behind jokes

secretly collects rocks

hopes Appa will identify

but they pile up in his pockets, forgotten

THE REALIZATION

Incident

during a family picnic

Minji has a meltdown when her sandwich crusts touch the inside of the basket

Namjoon kneels beside her

using his "calm leader" voice to explain 

"Minji, cross-contamination isn’t catastrophic..." 

Jisung wanders off to skip stones at the lake

when checked on him, he shrugs

“Appa’s busy. I’m fine.” 

his voice cracks, and his jeans are soaked to the knees

Namjoon’s Thoughts

that night, he stares at Minji’s latest painting

(a storm cloud labeled “Appa’s Voice”)

then at Jisung’s half-built Lego rocket

journal entry reads:

“Am I failing him? Love shouldn’t be a zero-sum equation, but why does it feel like Minji’s needs eclipse his?”

Partner Conversation

corners his patner in the kitchen

2 a.m.

hair wild

clutching a parenting book titled “The Invisible Child.” 

“What if Jisung thinks I don’t see him? What if… he becomes a metaphor?” 

they remind him Jisung’s a kid, not a lyric.

he mutters

“Metaphors are safer.”

APPROACHING THE KIDS

Jisung

Namjoon takes him to the forest

a “scientific expedition” 

Jisung chatters about cicadas until Namjoon stops mid-hike

“You know… Appa used to feel invisible too. When I was your age, I’d hide in libraries so the hyungs wouldn’t laugh at my poems.”

Jisung kicks a pinecone

“But Minji’s poems are better.”

Namjoon’s heart cracks

he pulls out Jisung’s rock collection

quartz, granite, a piece of asphalt he’d missed

“These aren’t just rocks. They’re stories. This one…”

holds up the asphalt

 “…survived a volcano. Just like you.”

Jisung’s Response

“Volcanoes are cool.” 

he leans into Namjoon’s side

pocketing the asphalt like a trophy

Minji

joins her in the "Calm Cave"

a blanket fort stocked with noise-canceling headphones

“Jagi… does Appa’s voice ever feel too big?”

she nods

sketching a frowning sun

“Like thunder. But… thunder protects the flowers.”

he chokes up

“What if Appa’s thunder hurts Jisung?”

Minji tilts her head

“Give him lightning. Lightning’s quiet.”

SOLUTION

“Appa’s Lab” (For Jisung)

Namjoon converts the garage into a mini science lab

they spend Sundays disassemblying old radios and identifying Jisung’s rocks

“This is gabbro.” 

Namjoon squinting at a guide

“AKA… the coolest rock ever.” 

Jisung grins

“Cooler than Minji’s butterfly drawings?” 

Namjoon fake-gasps

"Way cooler.”

“Quiet Storm” Time (For Minji)

replaces lectures with ASMR sessions

whispering facts about beetles into a mic (recording, so she can listen, when he isn't around)

Minji falls asleep to his voice

he records as “Appa’s Thunder: Lite Edition.”

Family Fix

introduces “Moon Meetings”

weekly check-ins where everyone shares one need

Minji: “Less yelling. More… bug documentaries.”

Jisung: “Appa, can we not talk about feelings? Let’s… arm-wrestle.”

Namjoon: “Deal. But loser writes a haiku.”

ANGST & FLUFF MOMENTS

Angst

Jisung overhears Namjoon call Minji “my little philosopher” 

he snaps a ruler

“I’m not jealous.” 

Namjoon finds the pieces labeled “Appa’s Heart” in the trash

Fluff

Minji gifts Jisung a rock painted like a galaxy

“So you have stars too.” 

Jisung glues it to his lab desk

“It’s… okay. For a rock.”

JIN

TWINS: SOOJIN & MINHO

Ages: 5 years old Personalities:

Soojin (Daughter)

sensitive

artistic

deeply empathetic

bursts into tears if her crayon breaks or her rice isn’t shaped like a heart

loves painting rainbows and whispering stories to her stuffed unicorn, “Glitter”

diagnosed with anxiety

hates surprises, loud crowds, and the texture of mashed potatoes

Minho (Son)

outgoing

mischievous

a budding comedian

masters dad jokes before he can tie his shoes

builds pillow forts that collapse dramatically

pretends he doesn’t care when Appa misses his “shows”

secretly collects Jin’s discarded guitar picks

hoarding them in a mint tin labeled “Appa’s Superstar Stuff”

THE REALIZATION

Incident

at Minho’s kindergarten “Talent Show” he performs a slapstick routine

tripping over a rubber chicken

squirting flower included

crowd roars

Jin is backstage soothing Soojin

hyperventilating because her tutu “itches like spider legs.”

Minho bows to an empty front row seat where Jin promised he’d be

later, Minho shrugs

“S’okay, Appa! Soojin needed you!” 

then kicks his rubber chicken into the trash

Jin’s Thoughts

Jin stares at Minho’s mint tin (left open on the coffee table) and Soojin’s tear-stained tutu

notes app reads:

“I’m World’s Worst Appa. Minho’s smile is a Band-Aid. Soojin’s tears are a siren. Why can’t I hear both?”

Partner Conversation

barges into their home office wearing Soojin’s tiara (to “lighten the mood”)

collapses onto the desk

“I’m failing him"

mutters

spinning Minho’s rubber chicken

“He’s becoming me... hiding behind jokes so no one sees him bleed.” 

they remind him Minho’s 5, not 25

Jin sighs

“He’s my reflection. And I hate mirrors.”

APPROACHING THE KIDS

Minho

Jin stages a “Mission Impossible” game

Minho dons socks on his hands (“spy gloves”)

to retrieve “classified intel” (a cookie jar)

when they “hack” the kitchen, Jin “accidentally” finds Minho’s mint tin

“Whoa! Are these… my picks? You’re a better treasure hunter than Indiana Jones!”

Minho puffs his chest

“I’m Mini-Jin! I don’t need treasures!”

Jin’s voice softens

“Appa needs you. Even superheroes need sidekicks.”

slips a new pick into the tin

“To: CEO of Comedy. From: Your Biggest Fan.”

Minho’s Response

“Cheesy.” 

he sleeps with the tin under his pillow

Soojin

Jin hosts a “Royal Tea Party” in her blanket fort

Soojin appoints him “Duke of Unicorns.”

he sips imaginary tea

“Your Highness, what if… Appa’s too loud sometimes?”

she twirls her tiara

“You’re perfect.”

he fakes a gasp

“But Appa forgot Minho’s show! Should I be… fired?”

Soojin giggles

“No! You need… a helper!”

SOLUTION

“Minho & Appa Comedy Hour”

every friday

they film absurd skits (e.g., “Cooking with Chaos: Spaghetti Toss Edition”)

Jin uploads them to a private YouTube channel

Minho’s bio: “Future CEO of Comedy (Take that, Soojin’s unicorn!).”

“Soojin’s Sensory Sanctuary”

Jin builds her a pastel-pod filled with weighted blankets, noise-canceling headphones, and a “panic button”

plays his off-key rendition of “Super Tuna.” 

Soojin declares it “better than unicorns!”

Family Fix

introduces “Jin’s Judgement-Free Zone”

a pillow fort

Soojin can scream about itchy socks there

Minho can admit “jokes are kinda exhausting”

Jin can cry about “Appa’s epic fails.” 

their partner joins with wine

“World’s Okayest Parents Club!”

ANGST & FLUFF MOMENTS

Angst

Minho overhears Jin call Soojin “my delicate princess” 

stages a “comedy strike”

Jin finds him sobbing into Glitter the unicorn

“I’m not funny! I’m invisible!”

Fluff

Soojin paints Minho’s face like a “comedy superhero”

Jin “accidentally” streams it live

Minho trends as “Mini-Jin: The Next Generation”

he preens for days.

YOONGI

TWINS: JAEHYUN & SOOYEON

Ages: 14 years old Personalities:

Jaehyun (Son)

outgoing

academically driven

star athlete

hides his panic attacks behind valedictorian smiles and 4 AM study sessions

secretly resents his twin’s “weakness”

believing love is earned through achievement

plays piano to drown out his thoughts

Sooyeon (Daughter)

sensitive

creatively gifted

battling severe social anxiety

writes poetry and lyrics about disappearing

wears noise-canceling headphones 24/7

haunted by Yoongi’s absence during her middle school art show

the day she crumpled her winning painting and never picked up a brush again

THE REALIZATION

Incident

Yoongi returns from a 3-week tour to find Jaehyun’s principal calling

his son punched a teammate for mocking Sooyeon’s “freakout” in the cafeteria

at home, Jaehyun is absolutely cold 

“I handled it. Like you would.” 

Sooyeon locks herself in the bathroom

scratching her wrists raw

to “feel something besides static”

Yoongi’s Thoughts

stares at Jaehyun’s bloody knuckles and Sooyeon’s shredded poetry notebook

studio notepad reads:

“They’re me. Both of them. Jaehyun’s the mask. Sooyeon’s the wound. And I’m the ghost who taught them how to haunt themselves.”

Partner Conversation

shatters a coffee mug mid-rant 

“I did this. I let them think love is something you earn.” 

his partner reminds him he’s breaking the cycle

he laughs bitterly

“Cycles don’t break. They just… recycle pain.”

APPROACHING THE KIDS

Jaehyun

Yoongi drags him to the gym at midnight

they spar in silence until Jaehyun snaps

“Why’d you come back? To tell me I’m disappointing?”

Yoongi removes his gloves

revealing faded self-harm scars

“I came back because I used to punch walls until my hands looked like yours. And I’m terrified you’ll think that’s strength.”

Jaehyun’s Response

“I’m not you.” 

then collapses against the ring ropes

shaking

“Why does she get to fall apart? Why do I have to be… perfect?”

Yoongi tosses him ice packs

“You don’t. But let’s pretend you do until you believe it.”

Sooyeon

he slips a USB under her door

= a track titled “Static (Unmixed)” 

just 3 minutes of his shaky breaths and a distorted piano loop

she texts: “???”

he replies: 

“My first song. I was 11. It’s shit. But it’s honest.”

she opens the door

eyes red

“Did you… hate yourself too?”

he nods

“Still do... sometimes But less when I’m with you.”

SOLUTION

“Ugly Drafts” Project

Yoongi revives Sooyeon’s art by gifting her a ruined canvas

“Finish what I fucked up.” 

she paints over his scribbles

= a girl emerging from black sludge

titled “Dad’s Scars, My Ink.”

he hangs it in his studio

Jaehyun’s “Secret” Lessons

Yoongi teaches him to produce music

not perform it

“You don’t have to be the hero. Just… be here.” 

Jaehyun’s first track samples Sooyeon’s poetry

she cries

he mutters

“Don’t make it weird.”

Family Fix

Yoongi institutes “No Perfection Nights”

orders pizza

watching bad horror films

trash-talk the CGI

but with rule

Sooyeon must say one unpopular opinion

“I hate BTS’s old haircuts.”

Jaehyun must fail at something

burns cookies

Yoongi eats them anyway

Yoongi must share one memory he’s ashamed of

“I almost quit BTS. Then I met your mom.”

ANGST & FLUFF MOMENTS

Angst

Jaehyun finds Yoongi’s old suicide note in a journal

confronts him

screaming

“You were gonna leave us?!” 

Yoongi whispers

“I stayed. That’s the story.”

Fluff

Sooyeon gifts Youngi a poem

“You Are Not Your Father.” 

he sets it to music

they perform it together at a tiny underground venue

no mics, just trembling voices

J-HOPE

TWINS: ARA & MINJUN

Ages: 9 years old Personalities:

Ara (Daughter)

sensitive

artistic

deeply empathetic

budding dancer who practices until her feet blister

tho crumples at the slightest criticism

diagnosed with generalized anxiety

triggers include crowded spaces, sudden noises, and "disappointing Appa"

collects seashells and whispers affirmations to them

Minjun (Son)

outgoing

athletic

class clown

captain of his soccer team

tho hides his report card (straight A’s)

because "grades aren’t cool"

secretly writes jokes in a notebook to make Appa laugh

but tosses them when Hobi misses his games

THE REALIZATION

Incident

at Minjun’s soccer finals

Ara has a panic attack in the stands

a rival player’s mom yells too loudly

Hobi rushes her to the car

missing Minjun’s winning goal

Minjun tosses his medal in the trash

“Doesn’t matter. Appa’s always with Ara.”

Hobi’s Thoughts

he replays the moment in his head while scrubbing paint (Ara’s stress art) off the walls all nigh

his journal: 

“I’m the ‘sunshine’ dad. Sunshine shouldn’t have shadows. Why can’t I shine on both of them?”

Partner Conversation

breaks down mid-dinner prep

gripping a spatula like a lifeline

“I’m failing him. I’m... I’m failing him, and he’s smiling through it like me.” 

they remind him Minjun’s smile doesn’t always reach his eyes

Hobi whispers

“I taught him that.”

APPROACHING THE KIDS

Minjun

Hobi takes him to the Han River on bikes

their old ritual

abandoned for Ara’s therapy appointments

Minjun races ahead

Hobi catches up

breathless

“You know… Appa used to cry before every performance.”

Minjun scoffs

“You? Cry? Never.”

“Every. Time.” 

Hobi pulls up a vlive clip

2013, pre-debut

Hobi trembling backstage

“See? Sunshine’s just… practiced.”

Minjun kicks pebbles

“Ara doesn’t have to practice. She’s just… sad.”

Hobi’s voice cracks

“And you’re just… brave. But brave doesn’t mean alone.”

Minjun’s Response

“Whatever.” 

slips his hand into Hobi’s on the ride home

Ara

joins her in the “Calm Corner”

= a teepee filled with fairy lights and weighted stuffed animals

“Jagi… does Appa’s dancing ever make you nervous?”

she nods

braiding a seashell necklace

“You never fall. What if… I do?”

“Appa falls all the time.”

shows her a blooper reel

tripping over props, slipping on confetti

“Falling’s just… another move.”

SOLUTION

“Minjun’s Comedy Hour” (Weekly Ritual)

every Friday

Hobi attends Minjun’s “stand-up shows” in the garage

laughs too hard at knock-knock jokes

“Why did the soccer ball go to school? To get goal-educated!” 

Hobi wheezes, tears streaming

“Genius! Genius!”

“Ara’s Dance Diary” (For Anxiety)

replaces forced pep talks with a shared journal

Hobi writes: “Today’s step: Survived. 10/10.” 

Ara adds: “Appa’s socks didn’t match. -100/10.”

Family Fix

creates “Sunshine & Shadows” days

Morning

= family dance party

Ara’s rules: no perfection, just vibes

Afternoon

= soccer matches

Minjun’s rules: Hobi must trip at least once

ANGST & FLUFF MOMENTS

Angst

Minjun overhears Hobi call Ara his “mini me"

rips a page from his joke book

“Why did the son cross the road? To not be a backup dancer.” 

Hobi finds it

sobs in the studio

Fluff

Ara gifts Minjun a seashell labeled “Best Brother” 

he glues it to his soccer trophy

“It’s… whatever. But don’t tell Appa.”

JIMIN

TWINS: HANA & YUNA

Ages: 11 years old Personalities:

Hana (Daughter 1)

girly

effervescent

natural performer

lives in sequined dresses

insists on French braiding her hair daily

adores dance rehearsals with Jimin

secretly writes fanfiction about magical girls

cries when her nail polish chips

Yuna (Daughter 2)

tomboyish

fiercely independent

allergic to anything "girly"

wears basketball jerseys (gifts from "uncle Yoongi")

collects skateboard stickers

rolls her eyes at Hana’s glitter bombs

secretly envies her sister’s ease in catching Appa’s attention

diagnosed with ADHD

hyperfocuses on skate tricks but hates being called "spirited"

THE REALIZATION

Jimin films a TikTok duet with Hana

choreographing to “Filter” 

Yuna watches from the doorway

scuffing her sneakers on the floor

Jimin calls out for her

“Join us, Yuna!” 

Yuna snaps

“I’d rather eat glitter!” 

slams her bedroom door

later he finds her journal open: 

“Why does Appa only see her?”

Jimin’s Thoughts

replays the moment all night

pacing the living room 

“I’m failing her.” 

voice trembling

“I thought… giving her space was respect. But she thinks it’s rejection.” 

digs up old VLives where ARMYs called him “too intense” 

wondering if Yuna feels the same

Partner Conversation

“What if she hates me?” 

whispers

clutching Hana’s discarded tutu

their partner reminds him Yuna’s anger is a mask

he sighs

“I know masks. I’ve worn them too.”

APPROACHING THE GIRLS

Yuna

waits until she’s mid-skateboard practice

crouching to her level

“Appa needs your help. I’m… scared of ramps. Teach me?”

Yuna eyes him skeptically

“You’ll cry.”

he grins

“Probably. But I’ll scream your name, not ‘Eomma’.”

Yuna’s Response

she laughs

= rare, unfiltered sound

hands him her helmet

“Don’t die. I don’t wanna write a sad poem for school.”

Hana

joins her for a tea party

pinky raised

“Jagi… does Appa ever make you feel like… too much?”

Hana blinks

“No. You’re perfect.”

he winces

“But what if Yuna thinks she’s… not enough?”

Hana’s lip quivers

“I didn’t mean to hog you.”

SOLUTION

“Yuna’s Arena” (Sundays)

Jimin transforms the backyard into a skate park

complete with ramps

definitely didn’t cry while building with her

films her tricks

yelling “THAT’S MY GIRL!” louder than her coach

Yuna pretends to hate

secretly saves every video

“Hana’s Spotlight” (Weeknights)

choreographs a “sibling duet”

Hana dances and Yuna DJs

Yuna agrees only if she can wear noise-canceling headphones

first rehearsal ends with Hana in tears

“She called my pirouette wobbly!”

Yuna stormed out

“Her music sucks!”

Family Fix

Jimin institutes “No Labels Night”

no pink, no skateboards, no “girly” or “tomboy” talk

karaoke battles

Yuna raps “UGH!” in a princess crown

Hana belts “Dynamite” in Yuna’s hoodie

Jimin cries laughing

“You’re both… weird. I love it.”

ANGST & FLUFF MOMENTS

Angst

Yuna overhears Jimin call Hana “my little star” 

she snaps her skateboard deck

“I’m not jealous” 

she lies ofc

hiding the broken pieces under her bed

Jimin finds them and builds a mosaic titled “Broken Boards & Big Hearts.”

Fluff

Yuna begrudgingly attends Hana’s recital

Hana trips, Yuna heckles

“Get up, princess!” 

Hana finishes with a sassy hair flip

afterward, Yuna tosses her a Gatorade

“You… didn’t totally suck.”

TAEHYUNG

TWINS: SOOJIN & MINHO

Ages: 14 years old Personalities:

Soojin (Daughter)

fiery, artistic soul

idolizes BTS

especially her Appa

posts TikTok edits of his performances with captions like “KING V IS MY DAD FIGHT ME.” 

secretly writes fanfiction where she’s BTS’s “long-lost eighth member.” 

wears handmade outfits mirroring Tae’s iconic looks

Minho (Son)

sharp-witted STEM prodigy

resents living in Taehyung’s shadow

secretly admires BTS’s music

hates being introduced as “V’s son” 

wears hoodies with slogans like “Google My Name.” 

diagnosed with anxiet

hides it behind sarcasm

THE REALIZATION

at a BTS exhibition, a fan gushes over Taehyung’s family portrait

“Your kids are so lucky to be your legacy!” 

Minho snaps 

“My name’s Minho. I’m not a legacy... I’m a person.” 

he storms off

Soojin defends him

“He’s just jealous of me!” 

Taehyung’s smile freezes

Taehyung’s Thoughts

he scrolls through Minho’s Instagram

= a cryptic bio

“I exist. Shocking, right?” 

photos of his robotics trophies

all buried under comments like “OMG UR TAE’S KID?? PLZ SAY HI!!” 

Tae’s journal entry: 

“I painted them into my canvas… but they have their own colors.”

Partner Conversation

barges into your shared studio wearing Minho’s hoodie inside-out

“I’m a selfish artist. I made them my muses… but forgot to ask if they wanted to be seen.” 

they remind him Minho inherited his stubborn pride

Taehyung sighs

“Pride is lonely. I should know.”

APPROACHING THE KIDS

Minho

drags him to a metal scrap yard

Minho’s “happy place” 

“Appa needs help building… something.” 

Minho side-eyes him

“Is this a metaphor?”

Taehyung shrugs

“Nah. Let’s make a robot.” 

they spend hours welding junk into a clumsy android

Taehyung accidentally burns his sleeve

“You’re good at this. Really good.”

Minho mutters

“Not as good as you.”

Taehyung removes his beanie

revealing dyed purple hair

“I copied your science fair look. Cool, right?” 

Minho cracks a smile

“You look like a radioactive grape.”

Minho’s Confession

“I don’t hate BTS. I hate… being erased. Even Soojin gets to be her.”

Soojin

Taehyung takes her thrifting for “vintage inspo” 

she gushes over a 90’s bomber jacket

“This is so you, Appa!”

he hesitates

“What if… you made it so you?” 

she deflates

“But I want to be like you.”

Taehyung gifts her a blank denim jacket

“Wear your own art. I’ll wear mine.” 

they paint side by side

his a galaxy, hers a black hole labeled “Minho’s Brain”

Soojin’s Confession

“I’m scared if I’m not your fan, you’ll love me less.”

SOLUTION

“The Minho Exhibit”

Taehyung curates a secret gallery show titled “The Boy Who Built Himself.” 

features Minho’s robots, blueprints, and a looped audio of his voice

“My name is Minho. I’m a scientist. My appa’s famous, but I invented this.”

Minho’s Reaction

“This is so… extra.” 

he cries when a reporter asks about his “process” instead of Taehyung

“Soojin’s Debut”

Taehyung films her designing a stage outfit for Jungkook

posts it with “Meet my co-creator: @soojiniverse.” 

fans flood her page

she texts him:

“STOP I’M NOT CRYING YOU ARE.”

Family Fix

Taehyung announces a “No BTS” day

they hike in mismatched clothes

no photos allowed

Minho identifies fungi

Soojin sketches Tae’s “ugly-cute” hiking socks

ANGST & FLUFF MOMENTS

Angst

Minho skips Dad’s Day at school

Taehyung shows up anyway

wearing a “MINHO’S #1 FAN” shirt

Minho hides in the bathroom

texting: “GO AWAY!” 

Taehyung waits outside

Fluff

Soojin designs Tae’s next photoshoot

he wears her “chaotic grunge” look on Vogue

“My daughter’s a genius. Also, she grounded me for spilling glitter.”

JUNGKOOK

TWINS:

MINSOO & HYUNWOO

Ages: 11 years old Personalities:

Minsoo

introverted

artistic

deeply sensitive

diagnosed with generalized anxiety

spends hours painting murals in his sketchbook

hides in the bathroom during school assemblies

collects seashells because “they’ve already survived the ocean” 

looks identical to Hyunwoo

dyes a streak of blue in his hair to “feel seen”

Hyunwoo

extroverted

athletic

the class clown

captain of the junior soccer team, volleyball team and basketball team

obsessed with parkour, swimming, boxing and martials

secretly writes stand-up comedy routines he performs for his mirror reflectiom

uses humor to deflect pain

once joked about breaking his arm so no one would ask why he cried

THE REALIZATION

Hyunwoo’s teacher calls Jungkook after he “accidentally” backflips off the school stage during a pep rally

“He’s seeking attention”

Minsoo’s art teacher emails their mother

“His latest piece is titled ‘The Invisible Boy.’ Should we be concerned?”

Jungkook finds Minsoo sobbing in the laundry room

clutching his hoodie 

“Hyun… said my art is baby stuff.” 

he hiccups

Jungkook lectures Hyunwoo

he snaps

“At least I don’t cry over crayons!” 

then storms out

Jungkook’s Thoughts

replays the fight while bench-pressing at 3 a.m. 

“I’m failing them. I’m supposed to be the golden dad. Why can’t I fix this?” 

texts BTS group chat:

“Remember when I said I’d be a good Appa? Joke’s on me.”

Partner Conversation

they corner him mid-workout

“Kookie, you’re trying to be their hero, not their dad.” 

he drops the weights

voice breaking

“What if they don’t need a hero? What if they just… need me?”

APPROACHING THE KIDS

Hyunwoo

takes him to a rock-climbing gym

their “secret bro mission” 

halfway up a wall, Hyunwoo freezes

“Appa… what if I fall?” “I’ll catch you.”

Hyunwoo shakes his head

“Not here. At home. What if you… don’t?”

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the rope

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to be strong all the time.”

Hyunwoo laughs weakly

“It’s cool. I’m the fun twin, right?”

Jungkook’s Response

“You’re my son. That’s enough.”

Minsoo

Jungkook sets up a “Midnight Art Studio” in the garage

= blacklights, glow-in-the-dark paint, noise-canceling headphones

Minsoo stares

“For… me?” “For us, teach me how to… feel things.”

they paint in silence

“Hyun’s right. My art’s dumb.”

Jungkook smears a blue handprint on the wall

“This is how I felt when you were born. Terrified. But look... it’s kinda beautiful.”

SOLUTION

“Hyun’s Comedy Club”

Jungkook converts the basement into a mini stage

every Friday, Hyunwoo performs stand-up for the family

Jungkook heckles “Booo! Do a backflip!” 

Hyunwoo cracks genuine laughter

“Min’s Calm Crew”

Jungkook takes Minsoo to a pottery class

they make lopsided bowls

Minsoo panics over cracks

Jungkook calms him

“Now it’s unique. Like us.”

Twin Bonding

assigns them a joint project

paint a mural on the fence

Minsoo sketches galaxies

Hyunwoo adds soccer balls as planets

they argue over comet tails but high-five when done

Jungkook hangs a “World’s Best Artists & Athletes” sign over it

ANGST & FLUFF MOMENTS

Angst

Hyunwoo overhears Jungkook call Minsoo “my gentle soul”

dyes his hair blue too

“Now we match. Happy?” 

Jungkook finds him crying in the shower

blue dye pooling at his feet

Fluff

Minsoo paints Hyunwoo’s soccer cleats with glow-in-the-dark constellations

“So you can run with the stars.” 

Hyunwou wears them even after they flake off

[gorogues]

Fictober 2024

Prompt number #10 Fanfiction Fandom: Flash Rogues Rating: T – Teen and up Warnings: Abuse of prisoners by guards, profanity Notes: Set vaguely during Geoff Johns' Flash run, but at no particular time.

Day Ten: “Is this normal?”

It was now evening at Iron Heights, and a loud bell rang when the clock reached ten PM.

“Time for bed, shitbirds!” a guard shouted, banging his nightstick on the nearest cell door.  A small phalanx of guards moved in to ‘encourage’ the prisoners to lie down, shouting and pounding on the doors of anyone who remained up.  The lights didn’t dim, because they never did.

Within minutes, most of the prisoners were in bed, or what passed for bed given their unique circumstances; Tar Pit’s burning gooey body just sat or lay on the reinforced floor of his cell.

“Now’s time for group therapy,” one guard muttered to the newest employee on the Pipeline, who looked confused.  “Just let `em do their shit so it’ll be over quick.”

“Checking in with everybody!” Hartley shouted from his bed.  “Are you all alive and well?”

“Yo!” said Joey.

“Here!” Lashawn called, an air of desperation in her voice.

“Flash be with us,” Cicada intoned, which was the only answer he ever gave.

“Yeah, I’m okay…jerk,” Jeremy muttered.  He was still angry about the beating he’d received from Hartley while escaping during the Frenzy virus incident, and as usual Hartley ignored him.

“I am here,” Roscoe said.

“Idiots,” Dr Alchemy grumbled from his desk, unbothered by the prison’s bedtime rules, just as he was indifferent to everything else.  Sometimes he chose to respond to the safety roll call and sometimes he didn’t. 

“Here and tired,” Fallout said from his heavily shielded cell, even though he was certain nobody could hear him behind all the lead cladding and the electrical activity in the room.  He would have been heartened to know that Hartley heard him, as it was almost the only human contact he was able to make with anyone.

“I’m fine,” Isaac Bowin declared.

“Present, but suffering terribly from the lack of an audience!” Kadabra announced in the grandiose tone everyone knew to expect from him.

But one prisoner didn’t answer.

“Turtle, are you there?  Are you still alive?  Turtle..?” Hartley shouted, a bit concerned.  He had no great love for the Turtle nor any other of his fellow inmates, but he’d decided that the Pipeline prisoners should maintain a sense of solidarity because nobody else cared about their welfare.

There was no response for about thirty seconds, and then finally the Turtle grunted loudly.  “…Yes… I`m…. okay….”

The new guard frowned and looked at his colleague, wondering why they let the activity continue.  “Is this normal?"

“Yeah, ever since that Piper guy showed up, they do it every night at the same time.  We tried to crack down on it a while ago, but they fought back and kept doing it, so now Wolfe just pretends it’s not happening.  Some of these goons are a real handful and it’s not worth the grief.”

“All right, stay safe everyone,” Hartley called to the others, though only a few opted to respond to him a second time.  The guard standing outside Hartley’s cell bellowed “Now go the fuck to sleep, scumbags!” and hit the metal door with his nightstick to make an overwhelming sound to hurt the musician’s sensitive ears.

Soon, the Pipeline was quiet aside from the activity of the guards and Lashawn’s soft sobbing into a threadbare pillow.  But nobody slept.

[devilselbowhq]

* DEHQ PLOT DROP 002

Seventeen years, it’s been.  The year was 2108. By all accounts, the survivors of Devil’s Elbow should have seen it coming. They should have been prepared — and perhaps they tried to be, but there’s something to be said for the mutations occurring in a creature that spends almost twenty years incubating in deeply irradiated grounds. Every season for nearly a century, they’ve grown larger and louder until suddenly, insects that would’ve once grown to one, perhaps two inches at most were crawling from the soil at up to three times that size.  In brood seasons prior, the cicadas were little more than a nuisance, a frustration more than anything. They weren’t violent insects, after all, not hostile or aggressive — but their natural predators were.  For nearly a hundred years, the bald-faced hornets of the Appalachia have evolved to hunt the cicadas upon their emergence — Afterglow scientists debated whether it was an inherent instinct born of sister species of wasps over history or a recent evolution given the relatively docile behavior and large size of the cicadas, only a few of which could provide ample nourishment for a hive until the first frost.  These hornets, traveling in swarms of up to or over a dozen, seek to gather as many of the cicadas as they can over the short, two week window in which the subterranean insects come topside to mate.  In an attempt to ward off these hornets, once harmless cicadas developed a defense mechanism; a chemical response triggered by stress causes the insects to release a poisonous secretion from bristly protrusions on each of its six legs and on its abdomen. Unfortunately, the response had very little effect on the irradiated wasps in the area, with much  larger and hardier exoskeletons than their predecessors.  However, this secretion caused an acute reaction in any mammals that happened to come in contact — humans included. Symptoms would appear within moments of contact, starting with an angry red and blistering rash accompanied by localized fever and an intense stinging pain that radiates from wherever skin was exposed to the secretion. In mild cases, the effects would begin to diminish after several days, but in severe cases, flu-like symptoms including high fever, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea could ensue. Dehydration and malnutrition were not only possible, but highly likely.  Local herbalists found certain salves seemed to aid in pain relief and inflammation while the researchers at Afterglow scrambled for a solution, but they simply did not have the time before the last of the brood died off or retreated underground and, with it, the rest of the samples Afterglow could have used to find an antidote. Fifty-seven citizens of Devil’s Elbow died as a direct result of the Cicada Incident of 2108. Those who survived exposure to the secretions were left with scarring and, in rare cases, nerve damage at the sites of worst contact.  Dr. Felix Estrada, under public scrutiny due to his recent promotion to Chief Medical Officer at Afterglow Research Solutions, was intent to shift the focus to the positive strides being made at their laboratories. Any efforts of finding an antidote for the cicada toxin were put on the back burner in favor of advancing the effectiveness of their widely available and marketable Stim-Paks. Public Relations officials for both Afterglow and the Governance managed to diminish criticism in the press, and within a year, most citizens had forgotten about the cicadas. Or, at very least, put them to the back of their minds — there were more pressing threats to worry about, after all.  The year is 2125. There is a rumbling underfoot, the subtle stir of a plague awakening deep beneath the soil. There are a select few who remember — those who have been counting down the years, waiting. But history often repeats itself in cruel and tragic ways and, as was the case seventeen years ago, the people of Devil’s Elbow are in no way prepared for the horrors about to come up from under them.

* OOC :

Look for an event post coming tomorrow, MAY 29, 2025! Please refrain from making any posts regarding the plot drop until the event is posted. Get ready, Devil's Elbow — the swarm is coming!

[hermitw]

4th manga read thoughts: chapter 10, volume 2

Kenjaku had Sukuna's finger placed n the detention center.

at the end of the yasohachi bridge mission, Fushiguro determines that Yuuji eating the finger was the inciting event that resonated with Sukuna's fingers, and led to them being absorbed by cursed spirits.

but were any of Sukuna's fingers truly unaccounted for? Kenjaku had a large collection. the warehouse, Gojo's secret one, and maybe another that Nanako and Mimiko had hidden (or at least knew the location of).

Ch.10 opens with the fact that Sukuna's finger was used to get information on Sukuna's power. later, it's used as bait for the death painting wombs (I imagine it was largely to measure the strength of Sukuna's vessel before going into the shibuya incident, as well as putting Yuuji against his brothers).

TLDR what I'm saying is that I don't think it was Yuuji's fault that Sukuna's fingers were waking up and being absorbed by curses, because Kenjaku was always the one putting them out there. Likewise I'm not convinced that Gojo's birth was responsible for the increase in curses' strength (the disaster curses had been developing over a long period of time, the evolution of Tengen, and other circumstances could easily contribute. not to mention the old man who stated this as fact is the type to blame and torture others, taking no responsibility for his own actions or shortcomings).

Baby Dagon looks uncomfortable and struggling to keep up with them. maybe it's just a wishful hc but I like to think that Hanami and Dagon joined the group bc Jogo and Kenjaku and Mahito would destroy the environment without a second thought. both of them can see that the world is set up in a destructive way, and that there needs to be some kind of change, but they don't have their own plan so they get into this group. I still think that Mahito, being born of the worst of humans, gave the curses especially hanami, a bad impression. the idea that they could not coexist with humans. Jogo feels more neutral to me, like some chaotic neutral, idrk what his deal is so I'll spend some time paying attention to him on this read.

when Kenjaku tells the hostess that it's a party of one, that seems to represent that he is only using the others. Jogo's face here is so funny he's like 😒 I want to be the human

then it cuts to Gojo and Ijichi. they also can see that the current system is damaging. and that maybe killing the higher-ups is the solution. but Gojo, unlike the disaster curses, has a plan of his own to teach the next generation.

irrelevant but oh my god. Shoko is so beautiful in the manga I just want to stop reading and look at her.

back to the café - when they walked in, I noticed the sigh said GHOSTO. which feels like foreshadowing to Jogo killing the people inside it. but in the anime, it said ライス、which is ra-i-su, and I assumed translated to Rise. like a morning theme.

or maybe this all, along with the cicada crawling out of its skin as Fushiguro spoke with Nobara about Yuuji, are alluding to his return to life.

oh right, without humans there wouldn't be curses, so Jogo is asking for help in defeating the sorcerers. but he'll let anyone die as a consequence of his own unchecked whims and emotions.

Kenjaku saying "before the war, seal Gojo and befriend Sukuna/Yuuji" as if he is not going to absorb Jogo immediately after alcnakckamx

and despite this, Jogo cared too much about his emotions against Gojo to even address Yuuji. Just ignored that kid.

ok that's the whole chapter.

EDIT TO ADD: it felt significant for the explanation of the exchange event to be so... include things that weren't necessary or true. like each principal chooses an event, team and then individual.

I think this goes into what we find out toward the end of the manga - that Gojo was wrong when he told Fushiguro that everyone dies alone. Yaga was wrong saying that every sorcerer dies with regret.

sometimes it seemed like they fought alone, but in the end, it was always a team battle.

[godsofhumanity]

I adore your Titan HCs, do you have any for the younger generation?

*jotaro kujo voice* YES! YES! YES! YES!

❤ warning: long post ahead! ❤

PROMETHEUS

okay full disclaimer- Prometheus is my favourite titan <3

i imagine him to be that guy that you bring home to meet your parents and they instantly love him... he's the guy that other parents see and are like "yeah he's a good kid, you should be more like him".

i think Prometheus does have a little bit of a mischievous side, but he's NOT immoral.

he enjoys good pranks and funny jokes, but he's not obscene- he's just cheerful.

i also think Prometheus is very intelligent. from all of the younger generation, i think he's the smartest and the wisest.

Prometheus is also very considerate and gentle. i don't think he's the kind to yell or shout.

he doesn't get "angry" as much as he gets "disappointed" (which we all know is worse T-T).

during the Titanomachy, the original myths say that Prometheus sides with Zeus, but i wanted to elaborate on this further- my hc is that Prometheus didn’t just side with Zeus, he had, for some time before he even knew Zeus existed, been going around and rallying the other younger Titans to form a resistance.

i think that he grew up around Cronus’ palace and watched Cronus as he slowly corrupted himself, and Prometheus knew that it was time for change. 

so i think that Prometheus and a few of his cousins had a little superhero group going on, and when they finally met Zeus, i think Prometheus was essentially Zeus’ right-hand man. i don’t think they always saw eye-to-eye, but i think Zeus appreciated Prometheus’ advice and leadership skills, and this just makes the fire incident all the more tragic </3

about the fire incident- i think that Prometheus has a genuine love for humanity. to him, humans are the children of the gods and he believes that it's the gods’ responsibility to take care of them.

which is why he risks his life to grant humanity fire- he knows how important it is for them to survive, and his heart bleeds every time he sees the gods abuse and interfere with them </3

in a previous set of hc's (scroll down to the Cronus section), i mentioned that i think Prometheus' love for humanity began as a child when he saw Cronus create the first age of man- the Golden Age.

i think he was quite captivated by these living beings not born from the gods, but molded and shaped by them in their image. and i think that really impacted him deeply.

Prometheus' wife is Hesione, and i think that when Prometheus stole the fire from Zeus, he did it because he knew that Hesione is a strong goddess, and he knew that she'd support him (which i think she does!). i think his whole family shares his love for humanity.

when Prometheus was chained to the rock, i think Deucalion was still very small and didn't quite understand where his dad had gone, so i have this hc that when Deucalion grows up, he actually goes to the rock where his dad is chained and they talk it out- and Prometheus expects that Deucalion will be full of hate for him because he left them all alone, but in fact, Deucalion is a lot like Prometheus, and he actually really looks up to his dad and he’s proud to be Prometheus’ son, and he’s proud to help humanity the way his dad did :)))

more Prometheus hc's as well Atlas, Menoetius, Anchiale and Epimetheus hc's here <3

HELIOS

i think Helios is a bit of goofball.

in my head, he’s this incredibly handsome and elegant looking titan... he looks so cool and he’s turning heads when he walks.. but then he trips on the pavement because he got distracted looking at a frog on the sidewalk.

Helios is very kind, i think.

in the myths that he appears in, it’s usually because he’s seen something happening to someone somewhere and now someone else wants to know what’s up so they consult him- and it’s occurred to me that Helios literally never refuses to help.

he helps Demeter when Persephone went missing, he told Hephaestus when he saw Aphrodite and Ares having an affair. he helps his granddaughter, Medea, even after she commits a bunch of atrocities. i think at his core, he’s just a very amiable titan.

i think he does have a bit of an ego. he’s proud of who he is and who is family is. he knows that he’s important and that the work he does is important. but Helios isn’t arrogant or boastful about it. he values honour and despises cowardice.

Helios is very energetic. when he gets excited, i think he jumps around a lot and he just wants to tell everyone and anyone about what’s made him so excited.

in some myths, they say that Helios’ wife was Perse, an Oceanid, but my hc for him is that he doesn’t really have one wife- he has many consorts, and i think he doesn’t really care for settling down.

he’d think of himself as a romantic.

also, Helios is very paternal. i think he loves his children more than anything else in the world. he probably shows pictures of his kids to everyone, “hey have you seen my daughter? she literally just turned some guy’s friends into pigs,, isn’t she awesome? #prouddadmoment”

i don’t think that Helios is the brightest bulb in the shed. he’s not stupid, but i don’t think he’s an intellectual genius the way i’d say Prometheus probably is.

in the previous section, i mentioned the idea that the younger titans had a little resistance group, and i think Helios was a part of this group.

i have this brotp idea that consists of Prometheus, Helios and Pallas being bros. i think Prometheus brings the brains, Helios brings the looks, and Pallas brings the brawn.

i’ve always wondered why the younger titans never seem to have that much of a role in Olympus- i mean, it’s always Zeus and his siblings, despite the other titans being quite powerful (i mean, Helios is literally the Sun). my hc for this is that after Prometheus was so brutally punished by Zeus for the fire incident, everyone was pretty hurt- i mean, they were closer to Prometheus than to Zeus, so seeing him being punished like that was just extremely sad and heartbreaking for the rest of the titans.

i think as a result of the incident, the rest of the titans kinda distanced themselves from Olympus. no one wanted to be there anymore because it felt wrong.

i like the idea that Helios visits Prometheus at his rock often, and they sit and chat and Helios tells him about everything that’s happening :)

SELENE

i think that Selene is the eldest of Hyperion’s children. first came Selene, then Eos, and then Helios- the moon is followed by the dawn which heralds the coming of the sun and the start of a new day.

Selene is very tall. i imagine her to look very beautiful, but also very intimidating.

while her siblings are described as having numerous lovers, i don’t think Selene is much of a romantic. the only love of her life was the mortal Endymion.

i think Selene is very guarded. she comes across to people who don’t know her as cold and aloof, but that couldn’t be further from the truth- in fact, i think Selene is very emotional, but she’s not vocal about it.

she expresses her feelings through actions rather than words.

just as i think Helios was part of Prometheus’ little resistance force, i think Selene and Eos were as well.

as siblings, i think Selene, Eos and Helios are super close- they are quite inseparable. they’re all very protective of each other as well, and they’d defend each other at any cost.

EOS

Eos is the middle child in Hyperion’s family.

i think she’s very energetic and passionate. she’s incredibly friendly and not-shy.

as the goddess of dawn, i think she generally is a pretty gentle soul, but she can also be very loud.

i think she has more than a short temper- it’s a fleeting temper. she’ll start yelling and screaming, but then she’ll see a butterfly and she’ll calm down immediately.

Eos is also a little whimsical. she can be indecisive about what she wants or what she feels- that’s not to say that she’s deceiving. i don’t think she has a deceptive bone in her body- she always says what she’s thinking, maybe sometimes without a filter.

but even so, i don’t think Eos plans ahead. she’s a live-in-the-moment type of girl. 

in the Eos-Tithonus myth, when Tithonus starts to age because Eos forgot to gift him eternal youthfulness to go with his immortality, Eos takes pity on the poor guy and turns him into a cicada- and even though it was kinda Eos’ fault that Tithonus was suffering from old age to begin with, i think it was a kind gesture that she relieved his suffering, rather than just ignoring him.

related to cicadas- i think Eos love bugs and critters and stuff like that. she loves all animals, and that includes little insects.

there’s a myth where Eos sleeps with Ares and incurs Aphrodite’s wrath- Aphrodite punishes her to be filled with insatiable lust and that’s why Eos kidnaps a lot of pretty boys. but tbh, i like the idea that Eos, at her core, is just naturally a lover.

i think she’s a bit of romantic, and she falls in love easily.

i think she appreciates typical romantic sentiments- roses, and chocolate.

of course, i think her greatest love is Astraeus, her husband (more about him below ^-^).

more Eos hc's here :D

PALLAS

Pallas is one of the titans who doesn't really have too much lore.

the Latin author Hyginus calls Pallas "the giant", and he was assumed to be the titan god of warcraft, so this makes me imagine Pallas to be decently tall, and muscular.

Pallas in my head is pretty stoic. i don't think he's all that verbal with his emotions.

in saying this, i don't think he's averse to saying what he feels- he doesn't think that emotions are a bad thing, he just doesn't express it too much.

earlier in this hc set, i mentioned my hc that Prometheus, Helios and Pallas have a brotp. i think that Prometheus and Pallas, in particular, are really close- Pallas is the son of Crius who was thrown into Tartarus for siding with Cronus, so i imagine that Pallas and his brothers must have grown up with Prometheus and his siblings.

related to his domain of warcraft, i think Pallas is a really good fighter. i think he likes to fight, but he's very honourable.

if he lost in a fight, i don't think he'd be a sore loser, or he'd rage about it- he'd accept his defeat with grace and dignity, and he'd acknowledge the strength of his opponent.

in my previous set of hc's for the elder titans (scroll down to Eurybia's section), i mentioned that although Pallas likely would have sided with Cronus rather than Zeus during the Titanomachy in the original myths, my hc is that Pallas sided with Zeus instead.

this ties in with my hc that Pallas is an honourable and noble titan.

Pallas' wife is Styx and i have this hc that while on a hunt, Pallas went to wash his bloody weapons in Styx's river, not realising that she was there. and Styx was really mad about him "polluting" her river so they fought. and i think Pallas was really impressed by her fighting skills, and eventually they became friends, and then lovers, and then they got married.

i also think Pallas was really lackadaisical about it- i mean, i don't think he's a romantic at all. he just looked at Styx one day and was like, "hey do you want to get married?", and Styx, who is also generally pretty chill agreed <3 i think they are probably the most chill couple from the younger titans.

PERSES

my hc is that Perses is the middle child in Crius and Eurybia's family. Pallas is the oldest, and Astraeus is the youngest.

i think Perses, from all his siblings, is the most like Crius.

he's very intelligent, and sensible. he's quite mature.

Perses' name means "to ravage" or "to destroy" which paints a pretty brutal idea of him. but i personally don't think that Perses is violent as much as he is a strategic and skilled fighter.

i like the idea that Pallas taught Perses to fight <3

i think he's a little colder than his siblings, and i think he has blind loyalty to his king, which is why i agree with the traditional lore that suggests that Perses ended up in Tartarus after the Titanomachy.

in the previous set of hc's (scroll down to Eurybia's section), i mentioned that i think Eurybia has moments where she can fly into quite a ruthless rage- i think Perses inherits this from his mum.

on Perses' wikipedia page, it says that he "was wed to Asteria", which, when i first read it, sounded pretty cold and aloof. i mean, it didn't say that Asteria was his consort, or his wife (which sounds more intimate and familiar), it just says that he was wed (which sounds like it's just something that *happened*)...

what i'm trying to say, is that i don't think Asteria and Perses had a love marriage- i think it was probably arranged.

that's not necessarily a bad thing. i think Perses and Asteria both agreed to it, and i think that for the most part of their marriage, though they may have not been in love with each other, they were certainly quite content to be together.

Perses, though he can seem indifferent to those around him, is still kind. i think he's very patient, and respectful.

i've said before that i like the idea of having Hecate's magic something that Hecate inherited from Perses' side and Asteria's- i think Coeus (Asteria's father) was pretty nifty at magic as was Crius (Perses' father), and i think Perses and Asteria both inherited this and passed it on to Hecate.

ASTRAEUS

Astraeus is referred to as the titan god of the dusk, and he was also associated with the winds and the constellations.

my hc is that, unlike his older brothers, Astraeus is a lot more in touch with his emotions. i think he's quite vocal about it.

in terms of personality, i think Astraeus closely resembles his mum, Eurybia.

more often than not, he's always smiling and laughing, and being positive.

i also think that Astraeus is a gooey romantic. he's the cheesy type.. the cringey lover.

Astraeus' wife is Eos, which makes a lot of sense thematically since Astraeus represents dusk, and Eos represents dawn.

i have a hc that Astraeus fell in love with Eos the first time he saw her- love at first sight. and i think Eos felt the same way.

because Eos represents the dawn, i imagine that she's an early riser.. i mean, really really early- 3 AM. Astraeus meanwhile, who represents the dusk, is a little bit of a late riser.

i have this hc that Eos stopped by his house at some obscene time in the morning and woke him up so that he could ride with her in her chariot and witness the sunrise the way she sees it, and it was the most beautiful thing Astraeus had ever seen (besides Eos of course <3).

anyways, then they got married and sickened everyone to death with their cringey nicknames for each other.

in the original myths, it's mentioned that Eos had many lovers on the side, but i think Astraeus is okay with it- i don't think he feels threatened by Eos' affairs because he's knows that he's the only true one.

also, i'm not sure whether Astraeus was originally sent to Tartarus, but my hc is that he fought on Zeus' side through Prometheus' little super-titan resistance team. this makes sense to me not simply because i like Astraeus and i don't want him to rot in Tartarus, but as the god of the dusk, he has a pretty important role as a personified concept. so it doesn't make sense why he would get removed from the narrative like that.

ASTERIA

Asteria is best known as being the mother of Hecate by Perses.

as i've already said, i think that Asteria was quite proficient with magic herself, and i like the idea that she taught Hecate.

in terms of personality, i imagine Asteria to be very clever, and witty. i think she's very gracious and patient. i don't think that Asteria is much of a fighter- she doesn't like violence or conflict, but she hates injustice more, and she is willing to make reasonable sacrifices if the cause is just.

my hc is that she is close to her cousin Prometheus. i think they get along very well because they have similar personalities. i also like the idea of her being good friends with Hesione, who becomes Prometheus' wife.

during the Titanomachy, she almost definitely sided with Zeus in the original myths, and i agree with that idea.

after the war, the myths say that Zeus pursued Asteria as well as her sister Leto, but Asteria rejected his advances. in most myths, Zeus' unrelenting pursuit of her ends with Asteria escaping from him by transforming into the island which becomes known as Delos.

i like the idea of Asteria becoming Delos which, as we know, becomes the refuge of Leto when she gives birth to Apollo and Artemis. i like the idea of family always finding away to provide support, BUT i don't like the aspect of Zeus as a forceful and insatiable god.

so my hc is that while Zeus did chase after Asteria, i think Delos had already been created by Asteria previously as a place for her to raise Hecate, and when Asteria returned to that place, i think Zeus knew that it wasn't happening and he gracefully gave up.

i mentioned in Perses' hc's that i think Asteria and Perses had an arranged marriage. i think their marriage was interrupted by the Titanomachy, and although Asteria took Zeus' side, i think Perses took Cronus' side- which definitely led to a little conflict within their family.

my hc is that Asteria already knew that she was pregnant with Hecate during the Titanomachy and she wanted a better life for her daughter which is why she fought alongside Zeus, and i think she also knew that Perses wouldn't fight against Cronus- so she had to choose between her child and her husband, and she chose her child.

after Olympus gets established, i think Asteria and Leto live on Delos together, happily retired, the way they deserve <3

LETO

i've actually already done a few Leto hc's here so i won't repeat them :)

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: something sad (Grief)

Summary: The last time Katsuki sees Izuku alive the other boy is rushing to save him. A ‘the Sludge Villain incident gone wrong’ AU.

Characters:  Katsuki Bakugo

Fandom: My Hero Academia

WARNINGS: Major Character death, swearing, heavy angst. destructive behaviour.

(Additional part here)

..

(Grief- Katsuki self reflects and visits Izuku’s grave)

Katsuki knows he has a volatile personality, probably inherited it from his mum, and enough attitude that he has steamrolled his way through life without much difficulty. Things annoyed him easily and he got irritable at the drop of a hat. He has enough self-awareness to recognise that as a flaw, even if he had never seen it as much of a problem. 

There was a difference between irritation and anger. Deku had always made him angry, inducing a burning hot sensation that ate at his insides. Now Deku was gone and he couldn't turn any of it off. It was like the world was suck behind a filthy pane of glass that he couldn’t smash through no matter how hard he tried.

Katsuki watches the head of his Kamui Woods figurine bend at an odd angle as the plastic began to superheat, having been exposed to a string of minor blasts. He had been slowly working his way through his figurine collection as both quirk training and to take the edge off his anger. Melting this figurine was particularly cathartic. 

“Perhaps we should look into getting you some new hobbies.”

Katsuki shifts his focus to glare at his father who stands at his bedroom door, an expression of worry pulling at his features. No surprises there, worry was his father’s default response to anything Katsuki did these days.

 “Not interested.”

“Something to get you out of the apartment,” his father continues to which  Katsuki narrows his eyes. He wouldn’t be in the apartment if he had any say in it. Both his parents know this. 

“Some physical activity where you’ll be able to let loose without having to worry about property damage. I have a colleague whose brother runs a kickboxing studio. I can make arrangements for you to spend time…” 

“I said, I’m not interested,” he grumbles, returning to his current distraction.

“Well, I want you to think about it,” his dad instructs, “It would do you a lot of good and it’s something you’re passionate about….” 

The figurine Katsuki is holding begins to blacken, colours melting away under his tiny, controlled bursts. There is an unhappy sigh from his father and the sound of footsteps retreating down the hall. He growls and the figurine explodes with a small Bang. Melted plastic is flung across his walls and floor. 

He knows what his dad is trying to do…

How many times had he begged his parents for better training opportunities, for karate or boxing lessons, only to be denied due to money restraints? Outside of a few judo lessons he had received as a birthday gift from Inko one year, any combat training he did he had been self-taught. 

Now he’s no longer interested, his parents are practically threatening him with extracurricular activities. 

It’s fucking annoying is what it is. 

He reaches for another figurine only to find that he has none left aside from his limited edition All Might collection.  He lets out an angry breath, trying to rid himself of his restless irritation. It doesn’t work, and he ends up standing so he can pace back and forth, listening to the pop, pop, focusing on his tingling skin as sparks run up and down his arms. It keeps him distracted for all of two seconds. 

Usually, he would be at the library studying, or going on long runs and working on his physical conditioning. Sometimes, he would meet up with a few of the loser-extras from school and they would visit an arcade. Recently, he had taken to wandering through the streets around his neighbourhood, waiting for something to piss him off enough that his mind would white-out in pure rage and could forget reality for a few seconds. Obviously, that had become a lot harder after several run-ins with the local police had had him all but permanently grounded outside of school hours. 

This is what he wanted… he remains himself. His plan to piss people off enough that he received some iota of punishment was working like a charm so, of course, it sucked. He hated it, but then, he hated all the alternatives as well so what did any of it matter. 

Katsuki ends up with his ear pressed against the door, listening for activity in the living room, waiting for an opportunity to make a break for it. He needs to be careful because Aunt Inko is visiting and the last thing he wants is to see her stupid, sympathetic smile. 

When it sounds like the coast is clear, he creeps out, stealing down the hall. Muffled voices from the kitchen are all the encouragement he needs to beeline for the door and slip out before anyone can spot him. He’ll be in trouble for this later. He’s counting on it. 

The hot summer air is a welcome change from the chill of air conditioning. There is the loud buzz of cicadas, chirping away in the sticky heat. He picks a direction and walks, not caring that he is wearing the sweatpants and the black singlet he had slept in. If someone has a problem with his presentation, he is more than willing to throw down. 

Unfortunately, the relief being out of the apartment brings is short-lived. Today, a feeling of discomfort follows after him which has nothing to do with the heat. A bubbling frustration that bites at his heels as he stalks the streets. It is that feeling he has come to associate with times when all his rage burns away, leaving him numb.  

He doesn’t plan to stop at the florists, he just sort of does. 

He turns suddenly into the store before he can properly process what he is doing. The chime on the glass door rings and the sickly-sweet smell of the store has his nose wrinkling. Before he can chicken out and retreat, he walks to the counter. 

“How much?” He snaps at the older lady in overalls manning the register, pointing at the nearest bunch of white flowers. He has no idea what type they are but that wasn’t the point wasn't it?

“Ah,” The woman squints at him, taken back “That depends how many you want?”

“I don’t care” He smacks the few yen he has on the counter, “However many that’ll get me. Don’t rip me off.”

 The woman nods slowly, “Do you just want these specifically? You don’t want to add some more colour to the bouquet? White is a bit of a dower colour.”

“Whatever is cheapest…just make it quick.” He is already regretting coming in.

The woman hums, pulling out a roll of paper, beginning to place and wrap the flowers Katsuki had pointed to. 

“Who are they for if I may ask?”

“No.”

“Oh? A special friend maybe,” She begins to tease.

“He’s dead,” he snaps abruptly, “and he’s not my friend. Just give me the damn flowers.” Why did people always make this shit more difficult than it needed to be?

The old hag is silent after that, awkwardly finalising his purchase which ends up being an assortment of white flowers with a few smaller yellow and red ones scattered between. It almost looks pretty and it is sickly-sweet smelling, just like the store.

He tries no to think about his destination as he walks with renewed deliberation. He doesn’t think about it right up until he is practically walking into the low stone wall nearest the gate. The shock of seeing the place has him freezing in place, breath catching. The last time he had been here had been during the funeral.

There are lines of thin, tightly packed, gave markers, rising horizontally on sets on uneven steps. There is barely room for people to pass between them on the narrow, flagstone path. Trees are scattered throughout the space, providing patches of uneven shade. The noise of the cicadas is louder here, almost oppressive in its throbbing hum.  For a moment, all he wants to do is walk up to the nearest stone and blow it all sky high. Then he would be sure to flatten every marker in the place until the land was a barren waste. That would get him arrested for sure. The thought passes quickly, and his eyes slide away from the cemetery to his flowers. They don’t look nearly as nice now he has almost strangled them with an unintentionally tight grip.

He breaths out, resisting the urge to set something on fire. Slowly, he walks up the steps, passing the small temple at the entrance. Deku is buried further in, his stone modest in size when compared to the others.

“Deku…” He grows out a greeting when he arrives and it gets caught in his throat. The stone, obviously, does not respond.

Before he can accidentally blow them up, he carefully places the flowers next to the small pile already adorning the small stone. There are more offerings than he expects to be there. He recognises a few of the names from school. One larger bunch looks especially expensive and elaborate, monopolising most of the limited surface space.

‘From Yagi Toshinori’ the card attached reads. Katsuki doesn’t recognise the name. 

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, he didn’t know shit about Deku other than their shared ambition to be a hero.

“Deku…” Why the fuck is he having trouble talking, “You’re...” He stops.

 “You’re a fucking moron,” he manages to spit.

“I didn’t need you to save me.” The anger is burning so hot that its almost unbearable. Pop, pop, his hands fizzle. “I didn’t want your help.”

BANG! He makes sure the explosion is directed away from the stone and up into the sky. The small shock wave it produces rustles the flowers and nearby trees. All the cicadas stop chirping at once, plunging the area into an eerie quiet. His legs feel shaky and he is practically vibrating with anger. 

“What did you think a quirkless idiot could have done!”

Save his pathetic life while the real Heroes watch him suffocate from the side-lines? His brain supplies an answer. It was all a big joke wasn’t it? The bastards had all watched Deku die. That was what a Hero did apparently, wait for backup while someone died because it was safer for them. Safer for the Hero.

 His legs give way and he falls to his knees, curling his hands into fists, jaw locking up. Finally, the haze of anger falls away and his mind quietens. Everything was painfully clear now. People didn’t care when Katsuki yelled, swore, and hurt other kids, because his quirk was amazing, making him amazing. What a joke. If he hadn’t had his quirk, then the Slime Bastard would have had nothing to work with, and Deku might still be alive.

“I’m…I’m fucking sorry okay." He had always treated Deku like shit and he doesn’t think, if their positions had been reversed…he doesn’t think that he would have even thought about saving someone like himself.

The truth stings. He slams his fist into the flagstone next to him and he watches it crack.

"I’m sorry…”

He was lucky…that’s all he was… He wasn’t special… he was just an average human with a good work ethic and a garbage personality who just happened to have a powerful quirk.

He wasn’t a hero…well, not one like Deku had tried to be…like Deku had been…

He didn’t even want to be a hero...not anymore...He doesn’t know what he wants.

“Damnit…” the words have no heat behind them. The explosive rage that had been burning continuously in his chest for the last week simmers, snuffing out like a candle. There is a hole where his anger had eaten away at something fundamentally him, leaving empty space.

Katsuki leans forward, letting his head thump against the stone. 

[inkweaver22-blr]

Here we are with chapter 6! This one chronologically takes place in between chapters 2 and 3, so keep that in mind. There hasn’t been a lot of Sandy in this fic yet so I felt like this was as good a spot as any to focus on him.

AO3 Link

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Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Six: Being There

Tang visits Sandy for some advice.

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Tang knocked on the door to the cabin on Sandy’s boat. He took a step back as he heard a loud thud followed by what sounded like a frantic conversation and more banging.

Soon, the river demon poked his head out from behind the door and glanced down at the scholar.

“Tang! It’s good to see you. What, uh, brings you here,” Sandy greeted with a strained smile.

Tang simply raised an eyebrow at the strange behavior.

“Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all,” Sandy said cheerfully, still not opening the door fully. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…” Tang hesitated, somewhat self conscious at what he was about to admit. “I was wondering if I could get your help with some things I’ve been having trouble with.”

“What kind of things?”

“The... emotional kind,” Tang said softly while rubbing his arm and staring downwards.

“Oh! Oh.” Sandy’s gaze immediately softened for a moment before glancing behind him back into the cabin. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw he opened the door all the way and gestured for Tang to enter. “Why don’t we talk about it over some tea?”

Tang looked around the cabin as he followed Sandy in. It didn’t look like anything was out of place.

Decorations and plants to promote relaxation dotted the space. A yoga mat and exercise equipment were neatly stacked next to the couch. The room was mostly tidy save for the few cat toys strewn about and the two half-drunk cups of tea on the coffee table.

Wait, two cups?

Tang took a closer look around and eventually spotted something.

Huntsman’s braid was poking out from above a high-up cabinet.

Ah. So that’s what the noise earlier was.

The unlikely friendship between the spider demon and Sandy had happened already once before so Tang decided to ignore it for now. He may not like having what he was about to say overheard, but the cycle would be ending soon and he really needed to have this conversation.

The scholar took the offered seat on the couch and thought about why he was here while his host prepared some fresh tea.

It had been a few days since the cursed meatball incident. If the timeline of events stayed the same in this cycle, that meant there was only about three days left before MK unlocked the use of the 72 Transformations, they went to the desert to train, and then would get attacked by Lady Bone Demon.

Tang shuddered involuntarily as he thought about the dangerous demon, and subsequently, her primary servant. He subconsciously rubbed his throat as the Mayor’s visage flashed in his mind.

Quickly shaking his head and taking a deep breath, Tang banished those images. He knew better than to meddle with major events now, and his friends had helped him through his trauma multiple times already.

He needed to focus on the actual reason for this visit.

“So what did you want to discuss,” Sandy asked while setting down a tea tray. The blue giant took one of the cups for himself and sat cross-legged on the floor across from Tang, his height allowing them to remain eye level to each other.

Tang took a fortifying sip of his own tea as he thought about how to begin.

“I know I can be a bit… full of myself sometimes,” Tang started. Sandy made no comment and simply waited for the scholar to continue. “But I really am not bragging when I say that I’m very good at noticing things.”

There was a small creaking noise from the cabinet hiding the spider demon. Both Tang and Sandy chose to ignore it.

“I’m just a naturally perceptive person I guess. I tend to notice patterns pretty quickly and I almost immediately pick up a change to a place I visit frequently.” Tang took another sip of his tea before staring seriously at Sandy.

“So I must apologize to you, Sandy, for taking so long to notice that you are quite possibly more perceptive than even I am.”

The river demon’s eyebrows rose in surprise at that.

“Uh, thanks? What do you mean by that?”

“Sure, I can pick out even the small details of the world around me,” Tang explained, waving his hand dismissively. “However, you notice something much more important than that. You can see how the people around you are feeling.

“Yes, I can tell when someone is acting strange or hiding something,” the scholar continued, not acknowledging the shocked look on Sandy’s face, “but you seem to be able to see so much deeper than that! You can tell why that person is upset. Or at least you’re able to make a very good guess.

“Even more impressive than that is how you always seem to know exactly how to react to that person’s distress.

“You know the right words to say that offer the most amount of reassurance. You know exactly when to push for details and when to back off. You never judge, only offering unconditional support.

“You're endlessly patient and kind and understanding and I’m-” Tang took a ragged breath as his emotions welled up inside of him. “-and I’m not.”

“Tang, you’re-”

“Please let me finish.” Tang took a few deep breaths as Sandy looked on in concern, not the slightest bit offended at being interrupted.

“I know I can be kind and supportive, I’m not saying that isn’t true. But I also know I’m somewhat egotistical and smug at times. And that causes me to miss things in others.” Tang began to shake as he was finally overwhelmed and tears began to fall.

“I-I don’t want to miss how the people I care about are hurting ever again. I just want to be there for him, like you’re there for all of us.” Tang looked pleadingly at Sandy. “But I’m not sure I know how.”

“Oh, Tang.” Sandy swiftly moved around the table and gently pulled the scholar into a hug. Tang eagerly leaned into the embrace as he continued to let his insecurities out.

“He- he’s been hurting for a while and I don’t know for how long because I didn’t notice and-” He gasped for breath as he cried into the river demon’s shoulder. “He tries to be strong and not let it show but that’s hurting him even more and I don’t know how to fix it and-!”

“Shhh, just breathe for me right now Tang,” Sandy soothed as he rubbed the scholar’s back. “It’ll be okay. You don’t have to do this alone. We can all help MK out together.”

Tang sobbed a bit harder because of course Sandy would know who he was talking about through his incoherent ramblings. Of course he’d know exactly what to say to get to the heart of the issue and address it. He’d be jealous and impressed if he wasn't currently bawling his eyes out.

After Tang eventually calmed down and had a few more cups of tea, he still expressed his desire to learn how to be more like the river demon. Sandy had simply agreed to his request and lent him some self-help psychology and therapy books he owned. They discussed going over the contents in more detail at later dates and ways to help MK as a group before Tang decided to take his leave.

“Remember that you aren’t alone in this,” Sandy gently reminded the scholar as he led him to the door. “You aren’t solely responsible for the mental well being of others and it’s okay to ask for help.”

“Thanks Sandy,” Tang said with a sincere smile. “I really appreciate the help.”

“That’s what I’m here for. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later.”

Tang, feeling much lighter than before, decided to play a bit of a prank. He smirked as he leaned around the river giant before calling back into the cabin.

“Bye Huntsman!”

There was a sudden bang followed by profuse amounts of swearing. Sandy broke out into loud guffaws as he waved goodbye to the retreating scholar.

In the end, Tang hadn’t been able to get through the books Sandy had lent him before the cycle reset. He made sure to visit Sandy earlier on in the next one and learned a lot from the gentle giant.

Sandy wasn’t the only one he took cues from.

He incorporated Pigsy's silent acts of compassion and Mei’s no-nonsense attitude into the way he helped the others. Even MK’s fierce openness made it into his techniques.

Tang also never forgot he wasn’t alone. He always asked for help when he felt overwhelmed. He made sure the others knew how to help out whenever one of them was hurting.

Tang was powerless to stop anything that would cause any of the hurt feelings in his friends, but he’d be damned if he simply stood by and did nothing to address them now that he knew what to look for.

He promised to always be there for them.

----------

Sandy, I feel, is the secret MVP of the Monkie Kid group. He may not be a licensed therapist, but he’s probably had enough experience with his own and read enough about it to pass a certification test with no problem.

Huh. With this I’ve now ended exactly half of the current chapters with Tang having some sort of emotional breakdown. I’m sure that ratio will only get bigger as we progress. :3c

The Sandy and Huntsman friendship/ship is one I enjoy a lot and it’s a shame there isn’t more content for it.

I'm playing a bit fast and loose with the timeline of events in canon, but meh. It's not that big a deal I think.

That’s it for now! Until next time!

[girlmeetsliv3]

Prince of Nothing III

~ Part Three of Five ~

Release Date: July 17,2020 @ 12 a.m. (GMT-4)

Word Count: 6,646

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything except for you…

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything: heaven, hell, and everything in between. His family was an enigma who came to power under mysterious circumstances and had managed to retain hold over the kingdom for centuries - even if no one knew how. There was one thing that Jungkook wanted though, something that could never be his: you. A nobody. A girl with no title. No land. Just money and a pure soul to your name. Jeon Jungkook would’ve never spared a look your way, had that incident not occurred. Now you find yourself the target of his affection and the most hated woman in all the land. Which will kill you first?

Trigger Warning: Some of the contents in this story may not be suitable for all audiences. These include toxic relationships, manipulation, gore and various forms of abuse as well as rationalization of said abuse. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

           A small part of Yoongi trembles at the sight of the light blue house just a few feet away. It had been several weeks since he’d been there and it took all of his self-control, and a bit more, to stay away. It was his safe space. Somewhere he felt incredibly safe and after the guilt threatened to eat him alive Yoongi needed a break. Needed his songbird to take away his pain even if it was momentarily. The driver opened the car door, allowing him to step out. His saunter was light, feet barely touching the ground, even though he desired nothing more than to break into a sprint. Min Yoongi must always maintain an air of pacificity and general aloofness. Emotions were a weakness and now that the prince was aware of his, Yoongi had to proceed with caution.

           “Welcome home, Master.”

           “Where is he?”

           Yoongi wasted no time with pleasantries. His cat-like eyes darted around every corner of the room attempting to find any trace of his beloved. “He’s in the garden master. He hasn’t eaten much since your departure.” Yoongi sighed, heading towards the back porch. There were many places that his songbird was allowed to be inside the manor, but he always preferred the garden. It was the only piece of the outside world he was entitled to see, Yoongi had told him it was for his protection. Even if they both knew it was a lie.

           As he turned the corner he suddenly stopped, from where he stood he could see the porch in all its entirety. The glass that encased it allowed for one to view the beauty of the outside world without being exposed to the harshness the elements may bring. It was a beautiful day, the setting sun filtered through the glass creating prisms of rainbows which danced around the room but what shined brightly was him: draped longingly across the plush blue velvet chaise. The tan of his skin glowed effortlessly and Yoongi always found himself admiring it. When he wasn’t admiring the pillowy lips, sharp eyes, and rounded bottom that is.

           “Songbird?” The man in question paid him no mind, despite Yoongi knowing he'd been heard. Slowly he approached him, his songbird was delicate yet ferocious. Life had forced him to live on extremes to survive and though Yoongi wished he could say that all of this had changed since being in his care - it had only worsened.  

“I thought you would’ve replaced me by now. Seeing as you have found yourself a new toy.” There was an edge to the man’s tone, the words almost withered at the end.

Yoongi rushed towards him, his strong arms cradling his fragile lover, as he tried to calm his fears. “No, my love. That wasn’t for me. It was a favor I did for the prince.” His songbird stilled in his arms, he had only met the prince once in his life but it was enough to instill fear in him forever. A repressed memory of blood and screams flashing in front of the young man’s eyes. Yoongi didn’t understand why his lover struggled to get out of his hold.

“J-”

“So you’ve condemned someone else to suffer the same fate as I have?!" There it was the rage in his eyes. Yoongi shakes his head ready to defend himself, but his love doesn't buy it. "Why else would a Jeon be interested in a commoner?!" Despite all his efforts, Yoongi managed to maneuver the man back into his arms. Yoongi felt fire travel through his veins, vexed at how his beloved behaved.

“Don’t speak as if you are a prisoner. I have given you the world.”

“In return, you’ve locked me away in a cage, so that your songbird may only sing for you.”

Yoongi scoffs, shoving his songbird off him and standing up. "If you don't want me then, I'll leave. Wallow in your self-pity by yourself." Before Yoongi could take even a step away, the younger man had grabbed hold of his wrist. It was several seconds of tense silence before he finally spoke. "I've longed for you so much. Please don't leave me alone again." Just like that his songbird was broken once again, unable to sing. Tenderly, Yoongi placed his hands on either side of his lover's cheeks, cupping them gently as he leaned in closer. Their kiss was superficial, one-sided, but it didn't mean it wasn't passionate. Even if one side was fulled by love and the other by loathing.

YN ran through the long-winded corridors attempting to find a way out. She had been running for several minutes now and knew that she couldn’t be too far off from a staircase or the servant’s quarters, but her surroundings remained the same. It felt as if she was running in place. As if the castle itself was determined to not let her escape. Eventually, YN’s body grew depleted and she rested against the wall, listening intently for either guards or her captor to come to find her. It was the rhythmic clicking of heels that alerted her that someone was near. Vito, who had been comfortably resting upon YN’s forearm trailed up her body, wrapping across her neck and dangling down: ready to attack.

Jungkook had given YN a weapon, one that wouldn’t attack him, but wouldn’t hesitate to defend her. It caused her to worry, it meant that the prince was certain he was not the only threat to her safety. It seems there were those who were bigger and worse than him - or liked to pretend they were. Mistress Eun rounded the corner, her flamboyant yellow dress caused her to stick out like a sore thumb. It had been weeks since YN had seen the woman responsible for her brother’s death. If it were up to Eun both of them would be six feet under. Mistress Eun, in a world of her own, didn’t notice YN until they were mere feet apart. Her expression was one of shock before she quickly schooled it, grinning maliciously.

“Well if it isn’t the talk of the town.” Eun’s eyes dragged down YN’s figure and a disgruntled look overcame her face when she noted how YN’s lavish gowns far surpassed hers. “If it isn’t the prince’s whore, look at you effectively climbing up the social ladder. What would your brother say?”

YN didn’t respond, too furious to even attempt too, on the outside though she looked nonchalant and that bothered the older woman. It enraged her. “You really ought to be thanking me, child, if it weren’t for me you would have never met the prince. Likely would’ve died in a pigsty with no one to remember you.” The wrath turned icy cool and YN began to wonder if this is how Jungkook felt at times. She could almost hear him whispering to her: Do it. Hurt her. You know you want to. Mistress Eun stepped closer to YN, face mere inches away from hers as she hurled more insults. “The two of you were rats. Pests. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be here so don’t think so highly of yourself. You’re just a plaything to spare his boredom.” YN smirked causing Eun’s blood to boil.

You wouldn’t get caught. It would be so simple. Vito could do it. YN tightened her fists, letting her nails dig into the palms of her hands.

“Then again, had your brother simply accepted to sleep with me and not embarrassed me with his rejection he’d still be alive.” Had Eun known those words would seal her fate, perhaps she’d have been more careful. Though it is unlikely she would have, she was never particularly smart and always brash.

YN’s hands flew around Eun’s throat tightening and squeezing as Vito jumped out aiding her. Do it! Kill her! It was not her voice inside her head, it was not her controlling her movements. Once YN realized that she ripped her hands off Eun's throat, taking Vito with her. By then, however, it was too late. Mistress Eun lay dead on the castle floor. The shock caused YN to remain frozen staring at the hollow eyes that seemed to plead at her. Her haze dropped to her hands where Vito was resting, they were shaking incessantly. Jungkook’s voice was no longer in her head, but YN was certain it wasn’t a delusion. What is going on? Strong arms wrapped around YN’s torso hoisting her up, YN’s reaction was too delayed to have been able to do anything.

It was someone YN had never met, blonde ashen hair stood out against his dark palette. He cast one glance at Eun before his hooded eyes fell upon YN a sense of familiarity in them. “The guards will be here any second. Run straight and turn left, there is a large tapestry attached to the wall. Push against it with all your might, it’s a door. Follow the sound of the cicadas and you’ll make it out.” YN parted her lips to question him, but she heard the distant murmurs of guards. “Take that thing with you.” The stranger looked disparagingly at Vito who hissed back. YN gripped the serpent in her hand and took off, sparing one final glance at the mysterious stranger.

Jungkook held the mouse over Morte’s head, allowing the snake to lunge before quickly moving it away. This continued until the activity eventually grew dull and Jungkook let the dead mouse drop into the snake’s jaw. The young prince rolled over onto his bed, his mind drifting towards YN’s fear-ridden expression when she’d failed at hurting him. Not to mention the look of shock when he’d called her his queen. The girl was full of surprises and was like a drug to Jungkook - strangely addicting. A part of him longed to be near her at all times but knew that wouldn’t be the smartest decision. There were always eyes on Jeon Jungkook, but now there were eyes on YN too and he couldn’t risk it. Not if he wanted his plan to work.

Morte stilled beside him alerting Jungkook to the potential danger. Jungkook lifts himself from his bed, looking towards the door. Awaiting the knock that was sure to come, Jungkook wondered who would be so audacious as to bother him in his bed chambers. They were likely more reckless than bold. "Come in." Jungkook mumbles, seconds later Seo Kangjoon is greeting him. Jungkook supposes he should have known it wouldn't be long before the Seo’s came to force his hand. It aggravated him to no end that they thought he would simply bend over to their will. The Seo’s held power: their family was the head of agriculture in the land. The crown needed them for crops and they were very popular, along with the peasantry, seen as beautiful yet polite people. What a fucking joke. Jungkook saw through their facade, much like everyone else the Seo’s were desperate for more power. Becoming part of the royal family would provide that in unprecedented amounts.

“To what do I owe the pressure of having the Kangjoon in my bedroom unannounced? Hoping for a repeat of that night?” Jungkook smirked, seeing Kangjoon visibly tense. The prairie’s golden boy had too much to drink during his bachelor’s night and Jungkook was there to witness his true depravity. Kangjoon shook his head, “Would you have accepted my requests to see you had I done so officially, your highness?” It annoyed the prince to no end how Seo refused to play along. Kangjoon wasn’t as smart as Soojin, not by any means, but it was his sex that determined he be the heir. Even if Soojin was destined to rule. Though Kangjoon’s intelligence lay in his practicality - which is why he always refused to engage in mind games with the prince. He knew he’d lose.

“I am here to warn you.” Oh? "I have a meeting with the king to discuss your marriage with my cousin. We don't wish to force the hand of a future family member, but given the recent developments, we are quite embarrassed. I hope you understand." Kangjoon bowed deeply, excusing himself before heading towards the King's corridors. Jungkook gazed out towards his spot, his hand lashed out gripping the canopy of his bed and in one swift move, it crushed in his hand. It almost landed on his snake had Morte not had fast reflexes. Jungkook left the room searching for his beloved fiance.  

           Soojin had never looked worse. The purple welts around her neck were too small and thin to have been caused by human hands leading Jungkook to assume it had been Vito who’d done the damage and not YN. Still, Soojin’s usually perfect hair was a tangled mess that darted in every direction and her almond eyes were puffy and red around the edges. The second she saw Jungkook she let him know who was to blame, “She did this to me.” Jungkook didn’t answer simply kissing her forehead gently, Soojin leaned into his embrace. Soojin places her head in the crook of the prince’s neck closing her eyes. Her neck ached painfully, but she had refused any more medication not wanting to see the pitying look of the palace’s healer.

           “Your cousin is here to speak to my father about our wedding.”

           Soojin stills, raising her head cautiously. She recognizes the edge in Jungkook’s tone. “I’m sorry. It isn’t him, but my mother who insists we be wed. I told her about the king, but-”

           “Shush.” Jungkook smiled tenderly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Soojin frowned, confused by his words, Jungkook hated being told what to do. Undermining him to go see his father would have definite consequences. “In fact, I think they’re right.” Soojin pulled away from Jungkook, needing space to properly comprehend what he was saying.

           Jungkook smiles, dimples on show, “Let’s get married.”

           YN had been walking for hours, it had been evening when YN had escaped but something told her it was nearing dawn. The corridors were cold and damp, unlike the rest of the palace they looked incredibly old. A testament to its legacy. The cold had been too much for Vito who was now nestled inside YN’s bosom, needing heat to survive. Being unable to properly see anything in front of her due to the darkness, it made her footing sloppy. So, when she stepped on a loose stone and twisted her ankle she went down with great force. “Fuck.” It was then that YN began to wonder if she would die inside the castle walls. Her body withering away until nothing, but a corpse remained. Would she join her brother? Or had her actions led to her having a reserved space in hell? YN was somewhat surprised Jungkook hadn’t found her yet but was also terrified that her thoughts seemed to always go to him.

           It was as if she was under a spell. Though it was certain that Jungkook had found a way to bind Vito to her, she didn't want to focus on how she questioned if the prince had done the same thing to them. Before with Eun, she had not been herself. As if someone were coercing her into doing said things. YN trembled with fear if Jungkook could coerce her into murder then what else could he have her do?

           “He’s a menace!”

           Her head snapped left as she heard more yells and strange noises. YN pushed herself up from the ground with the little strength that remained and walked towards them. Soon enough, YN saw a light, getting closer; she saw what looked like a window peering into the room. Upon closer inspection, it was a mirror that looked into someone’s private office though who YN couldn’t decipher. Not until the figure emerged from the corner babbling to himself in an incoherent way that explained his state of mind. “Jungkook has been a murderer since the day he was born and will lead this kingdom to ruin if I don’t stop him!” YN’s hands flew up to her mouth to stop the gasp. YN had heard much about King Jeon the II growing up, the man was ferocious in the way only a Jeon could be. Still, he paled in comparison to Jeon the I, and that meant the war and social injustices that had long plagued the kingdom ended during his reign, or so it seemed.

           YN couldn’t see all of him now, his back was towards her as the King faced a portrait hanging on the wall. Nonetheless, she could recognize the familiar slope of his shoulders and rigid posture as something his son had inherited. Yes, Jungkook was very much his father but managed to surpass him at a young age in just about every aspect. Even the love of his people. For that, it was said the king would always despise him but the real reason lay in the portrait he spoke to. No one knew much about the late Queen only that she was effortlessly beautiful and seeing her portrait YN couldn’t agree more. She held a softness to her that contrasted greatly with her husband and son, though if YN looked deeper she could see Jungkook had parts of her too.

Jeon muttered to himself once more and it dawned on YN that he was speaking to the portrait. "You're right my love. If I do it the people will turn against me, but if we blame the Kim girl…" YN's eyes widened, she stepped back, her back hitting the stone wall behind her. At that moment, Jeon freezes as if aware he's being watched. "Come out." The king speaks lowly, all the anguish has gone from his voice. In a split second, he draws a dagger from his clothes and sends it hurtling toward its target. But instead of the mirror, it is the door. YN doesn't waste the opportunity and flees once more.  

"Mistress Eun was found dead last night. Similar attack to the one that occurred to the princess, Miss YN is nowhere to be found." Baekhyung announces loudly, his back bent at a ninety-degree angle to not offend the crown prince. Jungkooks nods, wiping his hands free of blood before returning to the book on his desk. Baekhyung grimaces slightly at the sight before him, knowing it’ll be him cleaning up the mess as the maids won’t go near the body. “Make sure to find her Baekhyung and bring her back to me.” Jungkook picks up the book leaning back in his chair, the title ‘Golden Ones’ had always drawn the guards attention but he knew to ponder any further would get him killed.

           “What is the official story, your highness?”

           Jungkook cast one final glance at Kangjoon’s corpse, it was a bloody mess with the heart ripped out and blood still oozing. The prince would have to replace his favorite carpet. “The king was so upset with having his hand forced about the Seo matter that he lost it and killed their last male heir. What a tragedy.” Baekhyung nods, before tilting his head towards Jinyoung who sighed under his breath and helped him carry the body out.

By the time YN had managed to escape dawn had broken and the sky was a pleasant mix of oranges, pinks, and purples all blended. Perhaps it had been the fact that YN had remained surrounded by darkness all night, that it had been so long since she had felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and the beauty of nature surrounding her that caused YN to stop. Vito was still asleep, YN felt exhaustion spread throughout her body. She began to sway from one side to the next and knew it wouldn’t be long until she collapsed. YN forced herself to continue forward, attempting to reach the edge of the forest before anyone caught her. The more distance she traveled the farther away the forest seemed. YN wasn’t sure if her perception was muddled or there was something else at play here.

It wouldn't matter anyway for the prince's guard hounds were on her tail. "You there! What do you think you're doing?!" YN let out a sigh of frustration. Every damn time. YN watched a large man with dark hair and thick eyebrows approach her, a bit of tension leaving her body when she realized he must have been a regular guard and not part of the knighthood. “I’m sorry, I was visiting my sister in the servant’s quarters when I got lost.” YN couldn’t think of anything more convincing but figured something complex wouldn’t work well in her case. The guard’s eyes narrowed, “As if I’m going to believe that. You look like a common whore, probably hoping to snag some nobleman, huh?”

The guard gripped her tightly pulling her close so that their bodies were touching. Almost instantaneously, the man fell to his knees back twisting painfully as he groaned out in pain. “I would refrain from touching what isn’t yours.” YN recognized the voice and turned around to see Jinyoung accompanied by another man dressed in similar attire. “The prince wouldn’t appreciate knowing some lowlife dirtied his favorite toy.” YN’s face scrunched up in disgust at Jinyoung’s words, she began to wonder whether she could escape the men but it seems they were onto her.

“Miss YN, the prince has been searching for you all night. He requests your presence.” The shorter one spoke, YN raised her eyebrow at him but he simply smiled. “Kim Baekhyung, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” YN ignored him, “You can tell the prince that I dissent his request.” Jinyoung smiled, “Ah, I forgot to mention the prince never did say we had to bring you back in one piece.”

    “Oh, how you always manage to surprise me, darling.” Jungkook’s smug smile was far too large for YN’s liking. She’d been brought to his chambers against her will and judging from the glint in his eyes, he had something planned. “I’m happy to see you’ve taken a liking to Vito.” He eyed the snake draped across her décolletagle. YN crossed her arms over her chest as Vito slithered down her body towards Morte’s resting bed, desiring to be with the other snake. “Look their friends.” Jungkook seemed too enthusiastic to YN which was the exact opposite of what he normally was.

“Morte could eat him alive.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

Jungkook turned his attention back to YN, noticing the state of distress of her gown before his eyes crawled back to her. “So tell me,” Jungkook leaned back onto the settee tilting his head slightly. “How did you escape?” If Jungkook knew about YN’s discovery then she’d be screwed. Though YN was beginning to pierce through the enigma that was Jeon Jungkook, she could never be sure whether she had managed to evade his game or play right into it. “Your fiance tried to murder me.” Jungkook shrugged, “I expected as much. Lions are volatile creatures, hot-headed too, best not to mess with them.” YN rolled her eyes, “The only reason Soojin attacked me was because of you. Shouldn’t it be you facing the actions of your consequences?!”

“You would blame a man in love?”

YN scoffed, “This isn’t love, it’s nothing but a game to you.”

“You’re wrong. It’s a love game.” Jungkook smirked, enjoying intensely how YN’s brows furrowed in frustration.

“What did you call me in for, your highness?”

Jungkook stood up abruptly, YN's stepped back a few feet in trepidation, something that the twisted prince enjoyed. He lifts his hand and brushes YN's lower lip delicately, "I wanted to tell you to switch your m.o. Strangulation is far too noticeable. I'd hate for you to draw unwanted attention." Slowly he circled YN letting his hand trail above her torso. "It was an accident, I didn't want to hurt her." Jungkook chuckled, arms wrapping tightly around YN's waist. "Who, darling?" His lips brushed the long arch of her neck, his arms tightening every second that passed by. "Soojin or Eun? Which one was an accident?" YN cast her eyes downward focusing on the snakes noticing how Morte had wrapped around Vito and was embracing him, or was it the other way around?

"You made me do it." YN struggled to get the words out, all she could see was Eun's dead body. All she could remember was the feeling of wringing her throat out until nothing remained. Jungkook gripped her chin, "Did I make you do it? Or did I permit you?" When they kissed it was tender so opposed to how the prince usually was. Jungkook was holding her as if afraid she would break. The kiss immediately distracted YN and she couldn't help but give in to it, just to escape the darkness in her mind. That is until a bitter tang filled her mouth and went down her throat. YN pushed away from Jungkook, spitting out his blood from her mouth.

Jungkook smiles sadistically, his tongue swiping across his lips to clean any remnants of blood. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" YN screams wiping her mouth in utter disgust. The man in question rolls his eyes as if the answer was oh so obvious. "I love you that's what." YN knew it was never good to reveal a trump card as it may come in handy later on, but she would have given anything at that moment to knock Jeon Jungkook down a peg or two.

“Your father is plotting to murder you.”

Instantly, Jungkook's face crumbled, his eyes widening in shock as he numbly asked, "What?" He looked so much like a lost child and YN felt regret pool at her stomach until his expression changed to one of rage. In the blink of an eye, Jungkook stood in front of YN, hand wrapping tightly around her neck as he lifted her from the ground. "What did you say?" YN struggles against his hold, her hands clawing at his to get him to let go. The only did he did was place her back on the ground, but his clasp remained.

“I saw him speaking to a portrait of a woman. He was going on and one about how you were a murderer from a young age and a threat he had to put a stop to.”

The pupil had all but consumed the iris in Jungkook’s eyes allowing YN to see herself perfectly reflected in them. “I don’t fucking believe you,” Jungkook screamed though there was a hint of pain towards the end that YN latched onto. “I swear it’s the truth!” She searched her mind for anything, any detail, that could convince the distrustful man that what she was saying was the truth. YN was beginning to feel dizzy as if she could pass out at any second, finally, she remembered. “S-she had your eyes.” Jungkook’s eyes filled with unshed tears as he let go of YN, letting her crumble to the ground. YN wheezed as she tried to regain her lost breath, well aware of the glare the prince had fixed on her.

“And how exactly were you in the king’s private study?”

In her disoriented state, the words slipped right out. “I saw it through a mirror.”

A moment passed before Jungkook smiled once more, a small ‘Ah’ leaving his lips. “You found the corridors. That’s how you escaped.” He crouched down in front of YN, “Though I doubt you’re aware of all of them, so you must’ve stumbled upon the one behind the tapestry.” Jungkook reached out patting down YN’s frazzled hair and tugging one side of it behind her ear. “Don’t worry I’ll have it sealed soon enough.” YN shoves his hand away, climbing to her feet. “I should have never told you.” Jungkook nods, “If it weren’t for your kindness you might have had me off your hands.”

He went to continue speaking but suddenly paused as if something had just occurred to him. “Why did you tell me?”

“He was going to pin it on me.”

A pause, then. “You aren’t as selfless as you think you are.”

News traveled fast of the wedding meant to bind the Seo’s and Jeon’s, while Jungkook had yet to mention it to YN there were too many outside forces for him to be able to avoid going through with it. Something which caused her great satisfaction. Though it was a cloudy day, YN found she enjoyed being outside nonetheless. Sana was currently by her side enjoying how the king’s many hunting dogs pranced around the garden. They were in the balcony near the throne room, YN was once again dressed in the finest garbs money could buy - Sana having forced her into them.

“Don’t worry, Mistress. I’m sure everything will be fine.” Sana reached out, squeezing YN’s shoulder comfortingly.

YN had told Sana everything one night after having one too many cups of wine and being cared for by the maid during her bath. Sana had assured YN that as much as the prince desired to wed her, as long as she was a peasant it wouldn’t be allowed. She wasn’t too certain that Jungkook wouldn’t be able to find a loophole, but it pacified her nerves. Not to mention her prompt meeting with the king had caused more rumors to surround her. Even while she was certain it was just Sana and her, YN could feel eyes piercing through her.

“Miss Kim?”

YN turned around to see Baekhyung bowing before her, instantly YN knew something was wrong. “They’re ready for you.”

When YN stepped foot inside the room it was filled with nobility, hushed whispers of incredulity falling from their mouth. Sitting perched upon the throne with a crown resting upon his perfectly styled hair was the prince of everything, Jeon Jungkook himself. No. It can’t be. He wouldn’t have…

“Unfortunately, my father is ill and won’t be able to attend any of his royal duties today, so I shall do it in his place,” Jungkook announced to the crowd of people, the second he spoke a deadly silence weighed over the room. Whether it was out of fear or respect was yet to be deciphered. Jungkook fixed his stare on YN and she could swear the prince blinked at her, but it was to quick to tell. "As most of you are aware by now, Mistress Eun has suddenly passed due to her misuse of substances. This has caused her land and title to have been lost." Jungkook wasn't just speaking to YN, but everyone.

“Due to her lands needing to be tended for and properties managed, someone needs to step forward to claim.” His dark eyes fixed on YN, “I hereby name Miss YN Kim and her heir’s sole proprietor of Eun’s lands and assets. Thereby granting her the title of Lady.” YN stilled in fear, but aware of the eyes on her she bowed deeply. “Thank you, your royal highness.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Once again Jeon Jungkook had won.

 “A Kim?!”

“The king must be really out of his mind.”

“Another Kim in court? Isn’t one enough?”

“Everyone knows the real reason she received them. Has she no shame?!”

 “Lady Kim,” YN turned around to see the crown of someone’s head, the ashy blonde hair all too familiar. It’s him. The man who had found Eun’s body and helped her escape. But why? The man rose from his bow, YN being able to see the deadly look in his eye. “Lord Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” YN’s eyes widened, but Namjoon remained unaffected. Taking her hand into his and placing a small kiss over the knuckles. Though Jungkook was nowhere in sight, YN was certain she could feel him gauging her. If Jungkook knew it was Namjoon who aided her escape, heads would roll. Best to pretend then, it seems that is what Namjoon desired to do as well.

“Pleasure is mine, my lord. I was unaware there was another Kim in court.”

Namjoon smirked, “It’s not necessarily something the King would so openly acknowledge.” He tilted his head away from the crowd, signaling her to follow him. As they walked YN could hear more hushed gossip surrounding her, but most of it came from faceless individuals - no one of importance. “You’ve managed to cause quite a stir in your short time here, my lady.”

“It wasn’t my intention to do so.”

“Still I am not surprised, a woman as beautiful as yourself is bound to cause a ruckus anywhere.”

YN blushed, “You toy with me, my lord.”

Namjoon smirked, a wicked gleam in his eye that said he was. “I would never dare.”

           They stopped moving and YN realized Namjoon had maneuvered her away from the crowd, still close enough that they were in the room, but too far away for anyone to hear what was being discussed. YN longed to know why he’d helped her but figured that it hadn’t been done altruistically. The young lord stepped forward, “If I were to be so bold as to offer a word of advice, my lady?” A chill went down YN’s spine and her hand tightened into a fist, wishing Vito was there with her. “You’ve been so bold already,” YN cast her eyes around the room seeing Sana standing by the door speaking to Jinyoung. Her brow furrowed as the two seemed to be in a heated discussion. “I don’t see what harm a bit more could do.” She turned back to Namjoon who seems to have followed her line of sight.

           “Are you familiar with your family’s history?”

           “I have no family.”

           “You are a Kim are you not?”

           “It is only a name.”

           Namjoon chuckles, “Ah, but what’s in a name?” Once again the lord stepped closer, “May I recommend the story of Soo and So? I think you’ll find it quite an intriguing read.”

“As much as I’d like to, my lord, I own no such story or book. I’d doubt the king is stocked up on history books that do not relate to him.”

“Ah, that is true. What a shame indeed.”

Sana trailed behind her quietly, something YN found quite odd as the girl tended to be incredibly lively. Perhaps Sana pitied her given the circumstance, but that couldn’t be it. The girl had previously stated how much more she enjoyed being YN’s personal maid than having to run around the castle. Maybe she’s tired? Or maybe it had something to do with her conversation with Jinyoung - YN's guard dog. Before they reached the door leading to YN's bedroom Sana suddenly halted. "I'm sorry mistress, but if I could be excused? I'm not feeling all too well." YN was a bit shocked but nodded nonetheless. She was about to ask Sana if there was anything she could do to help, but the maid had already runoff.

YN sighed, unlocking the door to her bedroom. When she entered she noticed Vito was feasting on his latest meal, so YN shed her dress and headed straight for bed. Hoping to catch some sleep before dinner was delivered, her actions stopped when she noted the gift placed on her bed. It was nicely wrapped in fine silk with a ribbon on top, peeling back the layers YN found it was a book. When she opened it, a note fell out:

I could only find the abridged version, apologies - KNJ

YN’s hands ran through the spine and bold lettering at the front, the words ‘Golden Ones’ peering back at her in a metallic red.

Jeon Jungkook had just finished his bath when his peace was once again disturbed by the rasping of knuckles on his door. He groaned asking who it was as he imagined harming whoever deemed themselves important enough to intrude on his time. Imagine the surprise on the young prince’s face when none other than his lover appeared. “Well, to what do I owe this surprise?” YN stood hesitantly by the door consciously trying to convince herself not to back out of the plan. If he was annoyed at her silence he didn’t say anything instead Jungkook tilted his head and asked, “What game are you playing?”

YN stepped into the room, closing the door behind her careful not to turn around. Jungkook was like a predator - eye contact was essential for survival. YN’s eyes danced around the room not finding Morte anywhere in sight. “I’ve decided to not play any games. I know I’ll never beat you.”

Jungkook smirks, eyeing YN's figure up and down. "Well then, this may be the most fun game we've ever played."

YN ambled towards Jungkook, their eyes remaining on each other. Waiting for the moment the other faltered to strike.

“Where’s your pet, my lady?”

“In my bedroom, your highness. He is shedding.”

“Where’s Morte?”

“Where she needs to be.”

As they neared each other Jungkook took a seat at the edge of his bed, encouraging YN to join him. YN straddled Jungkook, trying to calm her racing heart from giving her away. “What am I to you?” Her eyes were wide and honest, as she asked. It had been foolish to think the answer would change.

“My Queen.”

It was the intensity of the prince’s stare that caused YN to look away, her eyes landed on a glass and gold chessboard. “I’ve never been a good player.”

Jungkook chuckled, eyes-rolling. “I doubt that’s true.” His warm breath fanned her neck causing goose-bumps to rise.

“Isn’t the king the most vulnerable of them all?”

Jungkook nods, letting his lips brush against hers trying to draw her attention back onto him. “Which is why he needs a powerful queen.”

YN chuckled, parting her lips and allowing the venom laced words to hit their target. “Good thing, Soojin will be your queen.”

The prince visibly tenses, his hand coming to grip YN’s waist tightly. He forces her to look at him as his eyes filled with a heady mix of lust and rage. “That’s a dangerous game you're playing, love.”

YN shrugs, “I’m not playing a game. I’m only trying to prove a point.”

“Oh?” Jungkook uses his grip on YN’s waist to push them closer together, leaving only centimeters between the star-crossed lovers.

“What you feel or think you feel is not love. It’s infatuation fueled by lust.” YN allowed her lips to brush Jungkook’s, though they never fully kissed. “I’m just a shiny new toy you want to play with until you get bored.”

"I will never tire of you YN, you can be certain of that." Jungkook's tongue swiped across his lips to moisten them. "Though if you are so certain, let's have a wager." Jungkook released his hold on her waist allowing YN to move away. Now that they stood feet apart, it felt as if this was a serious affair. "If what I feel for you is nothing more than infatuation, I promise to let you go." He lifted his palm as if taking an oath.

YN scoffed, “No. If I am right, then you will marry Soojin and make her your queen.” She wasn’t going to fall for his schemes any longer. Jungkook nodded, leaning back to rest on his elbows. When he failed to speak any further YN’s eyes narrowed, “Declare your wager.”

“I think I’ll save mine for later. Makes things more interesting don’t you agree?” Jungkook looked all too pleased with himself, the prince thought everything was under his control. But, just as YN often underestimated him, it seems he had now underestimated her. “So, what’s your big plan to prove your point?”

“Sleep with me.”

[siimjaeyun]

Chapter 10: Call of the Cicada 

Synopsis: A stranger has been threatening Destructo, a company based in Seoul. As more and more businessmen get attacked on account of swarms of Cicadas, will it lead you to a new mystery and perhaps on a path towards a new relationship with Heeseung? 

Series Masterlist 

------ 

The man quietly drove home, slowly taking in his surroundings as he approached his destination. Abruptly, a phone call broke through his peace and he quickly picked up. 

"I warned you to quit." The raspy voice threatened on the other side of the phone.

"I told you to stop calling me!" He hung up the phone and threw it to his backseat, ignoring yet another blackmail call. 

He maintained his attention on the road before him. The first cicada fell onto the front window, and he pushed it aside using the windshield wipers. 

“Those cicada things disgust me.” He whispered to himself, and continued his drive home. But his tranquility soon disappeared as more and more cicadas landed on his windows, forming a creature that would engulf both him and the car completely. 

------- 

Professor Yin stood at the center of the class, slowly caressing the cicada bug on his index finger; he later placed it back on the mini-tree while planting a kiss on the head. 

“Did he just kiss the bug?” Heeseung, who was seated behind you, asked in a quiet voice, before you hummed back, slowly admiring the professor’s good looks. 

“The cicada bug is one of earth’s most spectacular creatures, and are well-known for the songs sung by most if not all male cicadas. In their lifetime, cicadas usually will go underground and re-emerge every seventeen years to escape the pollution and disastrous human activity. Isn’t that right Sunoo and Niki?” The professor turned his attention on the two boys in the back of the class bickering over the last bag of snacks in their hands. 

“Sunoo. Niki. Are you aware that Nature O’s are manufactured by Destructo, the biggest polluter in both Seoul and the country!” Both boys glanced at one another and looked back at the professor. 

“Uh, no, but at least they’re delicious!” Professor Yin rolled his eyes and turned once the bell rang signaling their dismissal. 

“Yikes, I swear Professor Yin gets weirder every class.” Sunghoon swung his back over his shoulder and led the way out of the front door. 

“Really? I haven’t noticed much.” Jungwon stopped you mid-way allowing you to process your response. 

“Of course you haven’t. You’re too busy staring at him.” You punched him lightly in the shoulder and noticed Heeseung with an unclear face. 

“What’s so great about Professor Yin anyway?” 

“He’s smart, pretty poetic, and good looking.” You quickly said the last part before running off with Sunghoon and Jay to the cafeteria. 

“Oh yeah? I wonder how good he would look in my traps!” Jake looked at the boy oddly before running off to catch the rest of his 02 friends. 

“Heeseung, are you jealous?” Sunoo asked bluntly. 

“J-jealous, what makes you say that.” 

“I don’t know, you just seem a little tense, a little-” Niki didn’t get to finish his statement before he choked on a slip of paper in his mouth. 

“It’s a note from JK, it says there’s a mystery waiting for us at the city hospital.” Heeseung nodded at him, leading the young trio into the cafeteria before heading off to their next adventure. 

------ 

“Please, we all know I’m the visual of the group.” Sunghoon cockily smirked, which earned him a few bickers from the other members as they entered the hospital. 

Heeseung stayed back momentarily, patiently waiting as you got off the van and headed to the same entrance. Besides the limited adrenaline in his veins, and the anxiety rushing to his mind and heart, he continued with his mission. 

“Hey, y/n.” At the mention of your name, you quickly turned back to see Heeseung standing there. 

“I was uh...wondering if you’d like to go on a d-d-d-d-date.” With all his strength, he finally let out the magic words. The question perked your interest and you approached him with a building sense of happiness and excitement. 

“A date? You mean it?” 

“Yeah, there’s a new trap exhibit in town and I was hoping you’d like to go.” Your peaking excitement calmed itself down, facing the reality of Heeseung’s world. 

“You know when you popped the question, I actually thought you meant it.” You crossed your arms and headed inside, feeling slightly guilty with your indirect rejection. 

Heeseung caught up with you and kept his thoughts on what you had mentioned to him earlier. In his mind, you loved traps too. 

“What happened here Chief?” Jay looked at both Chief Kim and Mayor Lee who were standing at the front door of an operation room. 

“Nothing, now go away.” 

“Is he okay?” 

“Yes, now go away.” It was clear that Mayor Lee was trying his best to get rid of the pestering group, but ensured to stay strong on the task. 

“Are you sure? He’s practically screaming inside the room.” Niki, using his advantage of height, peered over the Chief’s shoulder and saw as one of the nurses used a pair of tweezers to extract a cicada from the nostril from the man. 

“You know what happened!? This giant disgusting cicada creature trapped the poor man. Imagine small little creatures crawling over your body, ew…” Chief Kim began to frantically scratch his arms as he confessed to the teen group the truth behind the incident. 

“Okay, yes there’s a cicada creature. But! If you have any decency left in your hearts, you will stay out of this. It will be good publicity for the festival on Saturday so don’t meddle with it!” Mayor Lee retreated from the hall at his warning, not exactly prioritizing the well-being of his people. 

Later that night, another attack occurred. 

Another business man was going through his daily routine, ending the day with a warm night shower. As he moved back his hair, his phone rang, and he picked up while wrapping a towel around his torso. 

“I warned you to quit.” The familiar raspy voice rang through the phone, leaving the man to hang up in frustration, preferring to return to his chore. 

He entered the comfort of the shower once more, throwing the towel to the side and reaching for the knob to turn back on the water. His efforts were wasted seeing as the knob was turned, but no water exited the shower head. The man peeked closer, attempting to find the solution before a crawling sensation appeared on his left foot. A cicada bug was crawling on it, and as he flicked it away,  a swarm escaped from the drain. He too had been consumed. 

------ 

“Try Nature O’s, a proud product of Destructo Company.” Grandma Mimi smiled proudly through the screen holding up the iconic blue and orange printed bag which only permitted for the youngest members to let out a small groan. 

“How long are we supposed to wait? Sunghoon and Heeseung left a while ago.” As if the universe had heard him, the said members had signaled to the group to follow them, leading to the room of the latest victim. 

“There, there.” A feminine voice was heard from the other side of the door, and Sunoo and Niki looked at each other with wide smiles when they saw Grandma Mimi standing there. 

“Oh my, we’re such huge fans!” They shook hands and she responded with a warm smile. 

“It’s my pleasure, after all, I must thank Mr.Hughe for making them so popular.” 

“You also work at Destructo?” Jake asked. 

“I’ll leave you guys to be, take care.” Grandma Mimi left the room with the escort of Sunghoon and Jay who were kind of enough to help her. 

“Yes. I had been getting blackmail calls since a few weeks ago to quit my job at Destructo. I didn’t take them seriously and well, now there was a bunch of small...creepy...crawling….disgusting little creatures crawling all over me.” Mr.Hughe entered into a state of hysteria, leaving all of you with no other option than to call the nurse for help. Once he had calmed down, you finally made your ways back home, heading first to the elevator. 

“Jungwon, can you press for the lobby?” Jungwon did as told, pressing the small white button. As the elevator moved slowly, and opened, it left them puzzled as their eyesight was met with a dark basement. 

“Good going dummy, you pressed the wrong button.” 

“I did Jay, look.” Jungwon pressed the button once more and nothing happened. All of them stepped out of the elevator only to have it close them behind and for the lights in the basement to flicker on. 

“Listen well, if you don’t stop, you will be next.” All of them ducked down as they heard the warning from the ominous and deep voice. A swarm of cicadas entered the basement, approaching you. You turned your head sideways and Jake with his limited bravery due to his fear of insects, managed to tuck your head into his chest using his jacket. 

Once the swarm had disappeared, the elevator doors had opened once more, letting all of you make your way up to the van. 

“That was close.” Sunoo opened his school bag to find another cicada bug flying out. 

“We have to find who this creature is and fast, otherwise we’ll be next.” Heeseung drove off before coming to an abrupt stop. 

“That’s it, why didn’t I think of it before? Who loves cicadas AND hates Destructo, it’s Professor Yin!” He shouted almost too enthusiastically at the thought of him behind bars, but wasn’t willing to admit the slight bias in his accusation. 

“You can’t be serious Heeseung.” You crossed your arms and looked at him. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m with Heeseung on this one. It makes sense.” Sunghoon demonstrated his support which prompted them to go to the school despite your refusal. 

Eight bodies stood outside the door, quietly observing as Professor Yin placed the cicadas onto the small tree, taking out a small flute in the process. You and Niki stayed back and watched as Heeseung burst the door wide open with the other five boys following behind. 

“Aha, caught you right in the act girlfriend stealer!” Heeseung shouted louder that he would have wished, seeing as all of the boys looked at him and back at the door where you and Niki were. 

“What are you talking about?” Professor Yin stood agape and got himself up from his position. 

“You’re the cicada monster!” Jungwon’s accusation didn’t settle in considering the next few minutes developed into a massive debate between all of you, with Chief Kim and Mayor Lee arriving into the mix. 

“Enough! What is going on?” Mayor Lee broke into a booming voice and claimed a silence into the room. 

“He’s the cicada creature! You have to arrest him.” Heeseung pointed once more at the Professor and although it was audible how Mayor Lee asked him to come to the festival at 6PM if he was the creature, it still irritated the poor man. 

“I’m not the creature, and if you don’t leave, I’m pressing charges.” All of you exited the room with nothing much accomplished. 

“Look, all of you need to quit it.” Mayor Lee pressed his nose bridge as he looked at all of you. 

“We don’t have time,  it told us that we were next.” 

“That’s fantastic,” a foreign glimpse of happiness appeared on Mayor Lee’s face as he continued with his ramble, “all of you can show up at the festival tomorrow and we’ll make sure to have extra photographers! We don’t want you getting hurt for nothing!” 

Mayor Lee left with Chief Kim almost immediately, leaving all of you both clueless and lost. 

-------

The day of the festival had commenced and all of you approached the fun booths and cicada-themed attractions. 

While looking around, you noticed Heeseung approach one of the games: whack a mole. 

“Heeseung!” he kept pounding the plastic creatures and tried his best to give no reaction. 

“Did you mean what you said yesterday? About me being your girlfriend?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Knowing too well about Heeseung’s struggle with expressing himself, you wrapped your arm around his and turned his face towards you. 

“Because if it is, then I’d love to go to the trap exhibit with you later.” He kept his look firm, but couldn’t help a silly grin on his face as he pulled you into a hug. 

Both of you pulled away with wide grins, but it didn’t last long when Mayor Lee approached all of you. 

“Remember if you see the creature, run here. Got it?” The eight of you made your ways to the other side of the festival, when Niki grabbed your attention while pointing at Professor Yin who was seen entering the haunted house. 

“To the haunted house!” Sunoo trailed forward and went in first. None of you were too amazed with the decorations inside. Yet again, all of you were in constant peril at least once a week. 

“This is so dumb, what are we, five.” Jake commented as you reached the end. What you didn’t expect was for a wall to appear inclosing all of you inside. The swarm of cicadas appeared and tried to consume you as you broke through the tent finding as escape. 

“Guess it wasn’t Professor Yin.” Sunghoon admitted as he saw Professor Yin who was calmly eating as the giant bug chased after him. 

“To the van!” With all your might, your tired legs dragged you to the van where Heeseung opened the back door to let the vacuum suck up all the tiny insects. 

When the swarm had finally become consumed by the machine in the van, all of you found Grandma Mimi with a white outfit. 

“What is going on here?” Chief Kim asked as he looked at Grandma Mimi who was getting her hands tied together by Jay. 

“She’s the cicada creature.” 

“But why?” 

“I’ll tell you why. When I sold my Nature O’s to Destructo, they changed the recipe to have landfill waste. Can you believe it? When I demanded they return to my original recipe, they refused. So when I saw this documentary about using sound to control penguins, I had my plan. I didn’t have penguins, but I did have cicadas. Using my device, I was able to control them. And I would have gotten away with it too if it wasn’t for you meddling young people!” 

Chief Kim escorted her into the car, leaving a frustrated Mayor Lee behind. 

“Why can’t anything in this town be real?” He complained and left as well. 

“Well, that’s another mystery solved.” Sunoo let out a cheer first, relieved at the solved crisis. 

“I’ll have to catch you guys later because y/n and I have a date.” Heeseung proudly announced before swinging his arm over your shoulder and leading you towards the car. As your two bodies started to get further away, with laughs apparent in your conversation, Sunghoon looked at his other friend Jake who had turned away. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, come on.” Jake swallowed the bitter feeling behind him, joining the others in celebration. 

------ 

Next- Chapter 11: Bikers and Jealousy 

Tag List: @softkons @nikisboxysmile

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter XV

Now, normally a love confession would be followed by an answer. It was only rational. Declare your love and wait for a response. Either get a relationship or get rejected.

Lilith was not, however, what society by and large would actually deem ‘normal’ and neither was this confession. The word ‘love’ was not mentioned once, leaving her to wonder if Eve actually did understand her…

As the days passed, what was unspoken but clearly there blossomed, from a pinky-sized seed into a lush bouquet that filled their chest with an indescribable yearning and their conversations with heavy pauses, gazes overflowing with a tenderness that far surpassed what was appropriate between fond friends.

Soon, though, the rubber band holding the bouquet together would snap.

Soon, Lilith would come to know that Eve understood her quite well.

From the tension that sat in the five inches of space between their two chairs, something akin to electricity buzzing there, to the way Eve would eagerly ramble about the (not forbidden, she was still too shy to talk about what exactly was in the book Lilith snuck into her bag) books she’d read during lunch, to the patience Lilith would show as they ran through equations in study hall.

What was unspoken was slowly growing whether Lilith or Eve wanted it too. Like an unkillable weed that always grew back, no matter how many times you’ve pulled it out of the ground, no matter the chemical you chose to douse it with. But far more beautiful… That is, if the gardener would allow it to grow.

And everyone who was willing to see it would know it was there, what was there, even if the people feeling it were too scared to give it a name, even if the people seeing were too scared to admit it existed.

...

It was Thursday night on the same week as the incident, Lilith and Joan sat drinking cola in the shack, crickets and cicadas chirping in chorus outside, no one else with them busy with part-time jobs and family dinners and catching up on a week of homework.

“Hey.” Joan said, trying to steer the conversation away from their light-hearted chats and towards something a bit more… complicated, a tad more touchy.

“Yeah?”

“Are… Eve, I mean.” The brunette took a long sip from her can, the relaxed air between them shifting as she stalled what she needed to say. “Are you sure we can trust her?”

“What do you mean? She’s obviously gay and in denial-”

“That’s the point.” Joan fixes her with a soft stare, trying to strike the balance between firm and sympathetic. “I doubt Eve’s even admitted it to herself, and even if she has, she’s no friend of ours yet.”

“Where’s all this coming from all of a sudden?” Lilith can’t help but be defensive. After everything she’d told Joan about Eve and how she felt for her, after everything Joan had seen Eve go through just that Monday, how could she still be against the girl?

“They’re holding confession tomorrow.”

“What?”

“In the afternoon, just before club. There’s going to be confession.” Another sip from her drink, faster this time. “The holy type.”

Lilith knew exactly what Joan was implying, now considering the possibility herself having remembered what was happening tomorrow and every week after that. She wouldn’t admit it, though, refusing to doubt Eve despite the danger it may pose to trust her, to… love her.

Aster blue eyes widened, if only a fraction, in shock.

“And what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Are you sure she won’t crack?”

It hurt to think of. The chance of betrayal very real and very close, the things it may cost them all hung heavy in the air. What they’d worked for during the past year – the subject of many serious chats, full of tears and thinking and uncertainties, the cause of many sleepless nights, weighing risk and reward, planning – could vanish in an instant and make them vanish with it.

She could practically feel the ‘Godly Living’ brochures in her hand.

It was another thing she tried not to think of too much; her friends strapped into electric chairs and deadly hydrotherapy chambers, pumped full of pills that made them nauseous at the very thought of love with women or ones that didn’t let them think at all, the possibility of getting lobotomized.

“- could out us! She could out you!”

Joan’s voice pulled her from her mind before she could go too deep.

The emphasis on ‘you’ nearly made Lilith cry.

At the end of it all, even with the threat it brought to their gay little family, made up of people so vastly different yet somehow so similar, Joan was thinking about her.

And she was right to.

Tomorrow, if Eve did give her away, the others would be able to lie their way out of it, come up with alibis and excuses and cry ‘I have a boyfriend’ because Eve hadn’t spent enough time around them to gain anything as evidence because Eve had only been around Lilith.

“I don’t think she will.”

She tried not to sound scared.

“The only thing she really has against me are words anyways…” There was no reason to tell the other of the note she’d written for Eve. Painful as it was, the girl had probably thrown it out by now, especially since she knew what it meant. “And she can’t mention experience without admitting what almost happened between us a week ago.”

Joan was unconvinced.

“Are you really going to take this risk?”

She tossed Joan a few quarters. Enough for three phone calls on the payphone a mile or so away.

Maybe Lilith was going to risk herself for the sake of some girl.

But she’d be damned if she let her friends do the same thing for her.

“Call the others. Tell them to pack essentials and paperwork. Tell Colette to bring the check.”

“Only if you pack a bag too.”

It seems they would do the same for Lilith, whether she wanted them too or not.

“Joan-”

“No. If we have to leave tomorrow, you’re coming with us.”

And that was that.

...

It was a fine Friday morning in St. Agnes School For Girls. Maybe even her last.

Lilith tried to stay calm. Even as she packed her bags, even as she snuck into her grandfather’s office to retrieve her personal papers, even during the walk back to the shack, even while Paula and Joan and Julia and Colette went over what to say if they were questioned about their relationship with one another, their closeness, their relationship with Lilith, specifically.

It was agreed they would never throw each other under the bus. Agreed that, they’d deny all allegations against each other despite the proof, even if it may mean making them complicit.

After all, if they had to flee, they’d flee together.

If even one of them were found out, the plan was to run and pull a fire alarm, notifying the others.

Joan’s truck was parked just a few streets away from the school, no more than a quick sprint needed to reach it, key in her pocket, Paula carrying a duplicate, bags already in the back, fastened, Julia had forged a note for them about an after-school activity, buying them some time before a search was called if the school didn’t immediately call their guardians, and Colette carried all she needed to cash the check in on her person.

The last thing they did were practice statements, crafting sentences that left no room for interpretation and had no strange implications, absent of loopholes and additional clauses.

“What do we say if any of us are questioned about homosexual activity?”

“I know nothing about that.” They said, all in synch, drilling the words into their heads exactly as they were so there was no chance of them being taken out of context and used to spin a narrative. If the nuns wanted any of them sent to conversion therapy, they were going to have to lie through their teeth. “I’ve never taken part in such things and know no one who has.”

They sounded nothing like themselves, Lilith realized in between breaks.

Though she supposed that was the point.

“Again!” Said Joan. “What do you say if they accuse your friends of being homosexuals?”

“My friends and I are good, Christian people who would never willingly associate with homosexuals. I have personal anecdotes to prove the innocence of the girl you are accusing.”

It made them sick to their stomachs, having to say such things.

It made them safe, though.

And for now, that was all that mattered.

They were prepared.

But they didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

 ...

As the day went on, Lilith began to lose her cool, anxiety creeping deep into her bones, growing fidgety and restless. Her leg shook under the table, fingers tapping against the desk and clicking pens, eyes always shifting, looking for another sign that they needed to go.

Was this what Eve felt like every day?

The fear of being found out was in no means foreign to Lilith, nor was the fear of God, a tyrant she used to believe in and worship just like Eve did. But it had faded, her hiding of herself perfected to a science, fear turning into anger as she realized that everything she was raised on was a sham.

It had been too long since she felt this real, crushing anxiety.

She didn’t like it.

...

It was time.

Lilith and Eve sat next to each other in the small chapel on school grounds, just a bit behind the actual building but before the convent, not an inch of space between them as they were squeezed into the pews filled with those yet to receive the sacrament of confession. The seats were divided so that there were two groups of pews, one for waiting, the other for prayer, where many would do their penance. Two confessional booths were far behind them, having been placed like that so none of the girls would see who went in when or be able to hear a peep.

She knew how this was going to happen, how they could possibly get outed.

Priests were not allowed to break their vows and tell the nuns of the sins they’d heard during the confession but a penance was to be given to those who had sinned.

It could be anything from a prayer to an act of service.

It could be telling the nuns what you’ve done or know someone’s done as a way of repenting.

No doubt, if anyone confessed something of significance, they would have to tell Mother Cecilia.

And since most everyone who did this in earnest would believe their soul was on the line, if the girls in this school were truly the people they claimed to be, they would tell the nuns, friendships and loyalties and love be damned as the person they tattle on.

“Eve?” The girl whispered, finally snapping. “The note I gave you, do you still have it?”

The blonde did nothing more than look to the marble floor, hair shielding her face. There was no way for Lilith to tell if she was ashamed or guilty or planning to-

“Please answer me.”

“I still have it.”

For the first time in years, far longer than what most would consider healthy, Lilith felt herself minutes away from bursting into tears, eyes stinging from having to hold it all in.

“Where?”

“Why?”

Eve refused to meet her eyes when she ducked down to try and catch a glimpse of her face.

“With me, right now, in my pocket.”

Before the girl could answer her, a nun appeared to lead Eve into the booth, giving her a light scolding as they went.

“Time before confession should be used to reflect on your sins, Miss Peccator.”

“Yes, Sister Jane. I’m sorry.”

And with that, she was gone.

...

It was an eternity later when Lilith left the chapel, finding Eve just outside, to the right, standing amongst stone pillars that had barely started growing moss, waiting.

They were as alone as they could be, the only things watching them were the unseeing eyes of the statue saint surrounding them, whatever creature lingered in the cracks on the chapel’s stone, and God.

Perhaps what resided in the chapel was God.

“Eve…” She stepped closer to the girl, desperation potent. “What did you tell them?”

No response.

All she was given were downcast brown eyes and fidgeting fingers, guilt.

Lilith took another step forward, grabbing the other by her hands, letting Eve feel her warmth, her pulse, the softness of her flesh, of the blood that flowed through her veins, of her humanity.

“Eve, what did you tell the priest?”

Lilith had fallen to her knees, in a plea, in a prayer, the ground beneath her unforgiving and now stained with her blood, dark red and sinful. Eve’s hands clasped in hers and pressed to her sweat-soaked forehead as sobs wracked her body harder than it had in years.

She was screaming now, pulling on the other’s hands hard enough to hurt, something, anything to make the girl look up at her, unaware of the tears streaming down her own face.

“Eve? Eve?! What did you tell the priest?!”

They were the image of repentance, a holy figure, a dirty sinner; Eve towered above Lilith as she cried, immaculate and unattached as the girl wept into her skirts and her hands, a holy portrait commissioned by a long-gone pope.

If only they weren’t both sinners in His eyes.

“What did you tell the priest, Eve?!”

__________________

HAPPY HOLIDAYS HAVE A FUCKING CLIFF HANGER ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Lmao yes I know it's only the 24th but I’ll be back on actual christmas day with the next chapter tho so please don’t be mad at me and I’m very sorry for this (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Anyways, I would like some reblogs as my present this year <333

Taglist: @atahensic @anomiewrites @leahstypewriter @madame-ree @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity @phillyinthebathroom @gaypeaches @extrabitterbrain @pirateofblood @i-wanna-be-a-rock

[tmariea]

New Constellations

Written for the ATLA Big Bang 2020!! Hosted by @atla-bigbang

Rating: T

Type: Gen

Summary: "Every star in the sky is another sun somewhere out there, farther away than we could ever imagine."

When Zuko is banished from the Fire Nation, he leaves with a ship, an impossible task, and a newfound fear of his own element. As he's offered the chance to learn navigation by the stars and the myths that weave constellations into the sky, he has a chance too, to learn how to appreciate fire once more and how to look at the world in a different light.

Warnings: panic attacks, anxiety attacks, off-screen character death, grief, healing wounds

Much thanks to @cianidix and her amazing artwork, make sure to check it out!!  And to @vandrell for cheer reading and aiyah, constellayetion, and burnt_oranges over on AO3 for their dedicated beta work!!

Chapters: 1 of 2

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Three weeks out from the Western Air Temple, twenty one days of sailing away from the islands that Zuko had always called home, he woke in a cold sweat.  This wasn’t a rare occurrence these days.  These nights when he’d jolt awake in his hard metal ship’s cabin, face aching, feeling like he was tearing apart at the seams from dreams of Father’s hands, of Azula’s pleased laughter as she had watched Father read the proclamation of his banishment.

Zuko had gotten used to turning toward the wall and curling into himself, where he would tremble either until he dropped back into a fitful, exhausted sleep, or the rising sun would beat him to it.  Tonight something extra roiled in his stomach; maybe the fish they had eaten for dinner wasn’t agreeing with him.  He levered himself out of bed and stumbled toward the door.  A turn of the crank, and he was out into the dark hallway.  There were no windows here to cast light on his unsteady steps, and so he continued until he hit the wall, slumped into it, and turned right.

Why don’t you make a light for yourself, firebender?   The voice in his head sounded a lot like Father, and was just as demanding, just as disappointed.  His stomach gave another unsteady lurch, and he had to stop for a moment and hunch over in the corridor as he fought for control over his breath.  Finally, Zuko moved forward again, shuffling along with his shoulder to the wall until he came to the doorway out onto deck.

The door swinging forward was a visceral relief, as the cool night air hit his face.  Zuko slipped out and let it shut quietly behind him.  He didn’t even spare a thought for if any of the crew might be watching as he dashed to lean over the railing near the prow.  Here the wind chilled the sweat that had collected at the edges of his bandage, and his stomach finally settled as he breathed in the scent of salt air slowly.

He felt better out here in the cool and the dark, where no one could look at him, or if they did, where he couldn’t see the looks on their faces.  The stars trailed thick and bright down to the horizon to meet the water, broken here and there by the dark shape of a cloud.  This was better.  Looking at the stars didn’t hurt.

Wanting to be beneath the night sky, firebender?  When your fire is at its lowest?  Disgraceful.

There was a flash of cloying heat through his core as he started to tremble.  It started in his lungs and spread outward, his breath came raggedly with no chance of control this time.  That was right, wasn’t it - Zuko was a disgrace as a prince, a son, a firebender.  Disgraced dishonored no fire no home no hope.  He clung to the rail as he slipped down to his knees.  He pressed the right side of his forehead to the metal, feeling the cold from the point of contact, and the pulsing pain as his skin stretched.

The waves washed against the metal of the hull, the stars wheeled overhead, and some time later Uncle came to gather him up and bring him back to his cabin.  He didn’t even have the energy to answer Uncle’s questions, much less yell at the crew members who had undoubtedly alerted him.

He could still see the window from his bed, and the stars beyond.  Uncle stayed with him, a hand over his as he sat beside him in silence as the stars slowly faded into dawn, and Zuko finally dropped off to sleep

Zuko lost a few days to fever after the incident on deck, as his already strained and healing body was overwhelmed.  Only another week later, Uncle looked up at him over breakfast and suggested, “Prince Zuko, I believe it may be time to resume your fire bending training.”  He ran hot and cold all over again, but did his best to keep it off his face.  He knew, he knew, that he was supposed to be able to do this.  If he didn’t he was a failure.

If nothing else though, perhaps he could delay.  “I don’t think I should be firebendending with a big wad of flammable bandaging on my face.”

“I never knew you to be quite so concerned with safety nephew,” Iroh mused, with an expression that was far too knowing for Zuko’s liking.  He continued, “No matter, I agree that it might be too soon to run katas or practice sparing.  We will start with meditation.”

There was no good excuse Zuko could think of in response to that.  He managed a small nod, and then tuned out the rest as Uncle began to go on about needing a strong foundation in the basics.

Later that same day he found himself sitting across from Uncle in his quarters, posture ramrod straight like all his previous teachers had insisted on, hoping the tension in his back would prevent him from flinching.  He had to do this.

“I believe it will be best to return to the very basics.  For both you and me; it’s been some time since we practiced together,” Uncle spoke softly, already readying himself for meditation.

Zuko tried to think about the last time he meditated with Uncle Iroh.  It must have been before Uncle left for Ba Sing Se, when Zuko was just learning to meditate to a flame for the first time.  By the time he had returned, Zuko had been expected to have the skill and discipline to manage his own daily meditation.  The memory was still there, though, of the first time – together they sat cross-legged on the floor in a sitting room on the ground floor of the palace.  The doors were thrown open wide and the summer’s heat and the sound of whirring cicadas drifted on the wind.  Uncle had told him to feel the warmth on his skin, to hear the rhythms of the world around them but let them flow away.  Then he had held up a small flame in his hands and asked Zuko to breathe to its rise and fall –

Uncle’s next words drew him back to the present, “I would like you to make the flame, and I will walk us through a basic sequence.”

As he remembered, Zuko had forgotten to maintain the tension in his back.  So he was unprepared to catch himself as his eye widened and mouth contorted into a grimace.  “I’m not a child, Uncle.  I can meditate without your guidance,” he said with more vitriol than he truly intended.

Uncle Iroh didn’t rise to the bait, only held out a hand in an ‘after you’ gesture.

Zuko cupped his palms together, pressing the sides of his hands together tightly to stop them from shaking.  He couldn’t tell Uncle that he couldn’t do this, but it wasn’t as if it mattered; he would see for himself.  How can you call yourself worthy to be a Prince of the Fire Nation the voice in his head that sounded like Father sneered, and the rest of him could hardly help but agree.  It was as if every time he thought about his inner fire, about producing a flame – just a small one Zuko can you not even do that? – his mind skittered away, blank and unable to hold onto the intention.  The space above his palms remained cold and empty.

Finally Iroh let out a mighty sigh.  Zuko dropped his hands and looked up to see a frown on Uncle’s face.  “For today we will change places, then.”  He lifted a hand and a small fire flicked into existence, no larger than a candle flame and so tightly controlled that it barely wavered.

It didn’t matter.

Zuko felt heat roar from his head and down his arms, down through his stomach.  It was a sickly, scalding kind of heat that left tremors in its wake and tightened his lungs in its grasp.  He scrambled to his feet and stumbled backwards, not stopping until he hit the metal wall of the cabin.  It was cold and hard against his back, comforting and terrifying in equal measure; there was nowhere else he could go.  The rest of his senses caught up with his rabbiroo-quick heartbeat, and he focused immediately on Uncle’s face, searching for his reaction.

Uncle had put out the flame, and at first only looked shocked.  Then his expression contorted into worry – and why wouldn’t it?  A crowned prince who wouldn’t bend, who tried to run from his element?  But there was no anger.  Zuko watched and waited silently, waiting for the anger, but it never came.

Uncle Iroh broke the silence first.  “Prince Zuko, we need to talk about this.”

Zuko’s heart sped up again, and his limbs tensed to back away further, but he was out of space.  Instead he shook his head vehemently, before catching himself and snapping, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I believe that there is.”

He screwed his face up into the most impressive glare he could manage with only one eye and leveled it at Uncle Iroh, willing him to back down.  Uncle failed to look intimidated or impressed, only shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable.

There was a lump forming in Zuko’s throat.  He couldn’t do it, couldn’t, couldn’t let the words out that he was afraid and a failure and doomed to never reclaim his honor.  If he did they’d be real.  He swallowed hard, clenched his jaw until he was sure he wouldn’t start crying, and then tried one last time.  “Uncle, please.”

Uncle Iroh sighed, and Zuko couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulders slumped as he did.  “Alright.  Another day then.  But, Prince Zuko, when I say another day I do mean that.  I’ll leave you to collect yourself.  But will you join me on deck for tea in a little while?”

There was nothing Zuko could do but give a small, tight nod.  He watched as Uncle stood with a groan and a joking mumble about old joints, before he left the room.  He watched until the door closed and the latch spun shut, and then sank down the wall and let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

The night after the bandages came off, six weeks away from home, Zuko crept back out onto deck again.  This time, he didn’t have any bad dreams as excuse.  At least that meant that he felt less frayed at the edges than the last time, if only just.  It meant he could dart from the shadows near the door to the catapult platform, and finally out to the railing, hoping no crew would be the wiser to their addition to the night watch.

He settled himself into a cross-legged seat and turned his face up to the sky, a mirror from earlier in the afternoon.  He had come out to the deck after Uncle had told him he wouldn’t need to reapply the bandage to his eye.  He had wanted to feel the sun on his face, his whole face.

He hadn’t expected it to feel like he was burning again.

The sound of the wind and the waves was barely audible over the rumble of the engine, but he could feel the cool night air on his cheeks and imagine the spray.  Even during the daytime, he was accustomed to the breeze off the water cutting the warmth of the sun.  He had been unprepared for his healing wound to feel like it was suffused with unbearable heat.

After he had ducked inside, after Uncle had found him and sat quietly with him until his breathing evened out again, the ship’s medic had explained that burn wounds and scars were more susceptible to sunburn than the rest of his skin.  That was all, nothing more, it was perfectly normal.  Just like the fact that sounds from the left were muffled now and sight badly blurred, creating a dizzying distortion when he tried to use both eyes.  Just perfectly normal.

Zuko had spent the rest of the afternoon pacing his cabin like a caged tiger-dillo, resenting sunlight for the first time he could remember, and Uncle and the medic for not warning him before he went outside.

But here in the dark it was only coolness, and looking back towards the tower of the ship it wasn’t as if he would be able to make out details with two good eyes anyway.  Lately, the night sky had been so much kinder to him.

Zuko settled his hands on his knees and took a deep breath in and held it for a count of six seconds before letting it back out again.  He could still do meditation breathing exercises even if he couldn’t manage a flame.  He was only sometimes good at letting thoughts and sensations come and go, but tonight he sank into it with the relief of a moment to just stop thinking.

So much so that he didn’t notice that he had company until the light of a lantern fell on his face.

If asked later, Zuko did not jump, nor did he eye the lantern warily before reminding himself that the fire was contained behind glass.  Perfectly safe and separate.  The sailor holding the lantern looked really no different from the rest.  Standard issue armor, clean shaven face, dark hair in a top knot.  Zuko had been told names on his first day, but he didn’t remember any of them.  He could blame being delirious with fever and pain, but it sounded like too much effort to make excuses when he just didn’t care.

“Prince Zuko, I didn’t expect to meet you out here,” the sailor said, and gave a reasonably deep bow.  He did not shape the flame as he was holding an odd assortment of scrolls and books, a writing kit, and some kind of metal contraption under his arm, in addition to the lantern.

Zuko drew his back up as tall as he could make himself and tilted his chin up in a way that he hoped would appear as if he was looking down his nose at this interloper, despite the fact that he was still sitting in casual robes directly on the metal deck.  “State your business, sailor,” he said.

“I am ship’s Navigator Zhu Yan, sir.  I am here to confirm our course towards the Northern Air Temple.  My apologies if I disturbed you; I did not expect to find anyone else out here.”

Zhu Yan did not leave immediately as Zuko would have preferred, and it took him a moment to realize that the sailor was waiting for either another question or a dismissal.  “As you were.”

The man bowed again, and headed for a small table which was set up a short ways away and started unloading the contents of his arms.  Zuko considered going back to his meditation but the movement in the left side of his vision kept drawing his attention.  He had become unused to seeing anything from that side.  Now it was only just too blurred to be able to make out what Zhu Yan was doing through the night’s darkness, but the lantern light flashed off of something on the table as he moved it.

Thoughts of meditation abandoned, Zuko turned his head to see what was catching the light.  It was some kind of circular contraption made of metal that Zhu Yan set down before he flipped through several pages of a book on the table.  He then wrote something on a scroll before picking up the contraption again to look through it.

The next time he placed the contraption down, he glanced toward Zuko and called, “I would be happy to answer any questions you have, sir.”

Zuko could feel the heat in his cheeks; he wasn’t supposed to be caught staring like some commoner.  His traitor mouth didn’t seem to care, as he blurted out, “Why are you navigating at night?” and then twisted his lips into a tight frown before he could ask anything else.  Tsk tsk Zuzu that sounds like a stupid question.

Zhu Yan seemed to pay no mind as his face lifted into a smile, as if completing a pair of opposing theater masks.  “There are several navigational methods approved for use by the Fire Nation Navy,” he began, as if he was reciting a set of instructions verbatim, “I am trained foremost in celestial navigation.  I am proficient in navigating by the sun, but I prefer to navigate by the stars.”

A citizen of the Fire Nation who would eschew the sun for the stars?  Zuko’s first instinct told him it wasn’t supposed to be like that, and his second reminded him that he had been just the same lately.  He looked up at the sky, and felt a sting in his heart that with both eyes open the stars blurred into an indistinct curtain of darkness and faint light.  He closed his left eye and breathed out in resignation as the stars condensed back into their own focused points.

“Do you enjoy the stars as well, Prince Zuko?”

Zuko hardly knew how to name his strange mix of feelings on the matter, so he simply nodded.  He could tell that Zhu Yan watched him for a few minutes more, waiting for the next question that never came.  Eventually, the navigator turned back to his task, and Zuko watched until it seemed like he was engrossed enough to slip away without notice.

Uncle Iroh cornered Zuko over dinner the next evening again.  He was starting to get the feeling that he should start taking meals in his own quarters.  Currently Uncle was waiting expectantly after saying, “Navigator Zhu Yan said the two of you spoke last night.”

This was a fact.  This was not a question.  Thus, Zuko didn’t feel bad at all about leveling a stare at Uncle and waiting until he got the hell to his point.

Iroh sighed gustily, disappointed that Zuko hadn’t taken the bait, and said, “He’s offered to teach you navigation if that is something you might have an interest in.”

“Why would I have any interest in learning navigation?  I’m here to find and capture the Avatar, not become a naval officer.”

“It does the mind good to pursue different skills, Prince Zuko.  After all, the flower that draws no nutrients from the soil will never bloom.”

Zuko groaned and fought the urge to bury his head in his hands.  “I don’t particularly care.  I’m not interested.”

“I will let Navigator Zhu Yan know that is your decision,” Uncle said, and turned back to his dinner with the kind of nonchalance that left Zuko incredibly suspicious.  He set down his chopsticks and waited for the other sandal to drop.  Iroh took another bite of fish stew and chewed contentedly before continuing.  “Of course, if the Avatar has managed to hide himself for 112 years, I would suspect he has quite mastered the skill.”

This time, Zuko gave into the impulse to smack himself in the face.  He immediately bit down on his tongue to hold back a whimper as his still-tender scar protested the rough treatment.  “Fine,” he snapped.

“Wonderful!” Uncle exclaimed in that booming voice of his that he liked to use when he got his way.  “Zhu Yan has said you can start as soon as this evening if you wish.”

They did not start that night, because this was Zuko’s ship and he was the one who gave the orders of when he wanted things done.  They did start the following night, because Uncle had given him a silent disappointed look that morning.

Several hours after sunset, after most of the crew except the night watch were off duty for the night, Zuko walked out on deck to find that Zhu Yan had already set up at the small table from the last time, but now with the addition of an extra cushion.  He stood as he heard Zuko approaching and bowed with a smile.  “Prince Zuko, good evening!  I’m glad you were interested in learning more about navigation.  Shall we sit?”

Zuko nodded his permission and settled at the table, with his new teacher following across from him.  There was barely a beat of silence before Zhu Yan began.  “To start, we have several tools that are the most commonly used.  Of course, we do have our standard maps,” he patted a few piled scrolls, “and then the star chart maps as well.”

The star charts seemed to be in the large bound book that Zuko had noticed the last time they spoke.  Despite himself, he was curious about maps of the stars; he’d never seen anything like it before.  He scowled at Zhu Yan as he seemed to pick up on his interest and flipped through the book until he found a map.  He turned the book in Zuko’s direction and pushed it closer so he could see a page with an inked black circle filled with dots and connecting lines.  There was a pull of curiosity in Zuko’s chest that made him want to look up and see if he could see any of the patterns for himself, but he bit his tongue.

“Each map will show the constellations visible in the sky from a given place and a given time of year.  They travel across the sky each night like the sun does during the day, but they do move by the seasons as well.  The constellations we can see in the fall are different than the ones we can see in the spring, and so forth, which is why the book is quite large.”

Zhu Yan flipped through a few pages, showing the names of places and the times of year they corresponded to.  Zuko recognized that the maps had a certain kind of beauty, but each looked so much like the last, and so many of the beautiful things he’d known had proved useless.  He didn’t think he was dedicated enough to try to learn the difference between one map and another, when he still had doubts that it would help him find the Avatar.  Instead, he pointed to the device which had caught his attention the last time they spoke.  It was a brass circle, empty in the center except for four spokes and an arm attached to the center which could spin.  “What’s that?”

“That is an astrolabe.  With it we can measure the angle of a set of stars to the horizon, and use that to determine our current location and where we need to go.  I thought we might leave that for later, though, since it does require some calculations.”

“How would you navigate if not with the tool for it?” Zuko asked, scowling in confusion.

“When in familiar waters, you can navigate by knowing the stars and their place in the sky, without even needing to use astrolabes or mathematics, the same way people have navigated for generations before us.  I thought it might be more enjoyable to start there, by learning some of the stars and the constellations they belong to, since I find it easiest to know them by their stories.”

Zuko didn’t understand.  The way he had always been told, new instruments and technology was supposed to make a task better, make the Fire Nation better.  “Those tools must have been invented in the Fire Nation, right?”  From everything he’d been taught about other nations, they had nothing remotely advanced enough.

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Then why would you want to use an old outdated method?” Zuko asked, tension building in his voice.

“It’s always worth keeping a good tradition alive, I think.  It connects us to our history and our ancestors.  I find our myths to be quite an enjoyable tradition, so I like to fall back on them when I can.”

“We made something better, so why would you want to go backwards?”  He’d always been taught that the Fire Nation was the smartest, most advanced nation in the world.  That it was their duty to bring their greatness, their prosperity, their advancements to everyone else.  What did it mean that even their own people chose to still follow old ways?

Of course you would ask these questions, it is only fitting for one without honor.

Zuko stared at his hands, clenching into fists so tight he could feel his nails digging in to try to ward off the drop in his stomach that the voice in his head always caused.  He nearly didn’t hear when Zhu Yan responded.

“I don’t see it as going backwards.  I find it valuable to learn both, and to learn the best situations to apply each.  Besides, while the astrolabe does provide greater mathematical accuracy, you can see at many ports of call that other sailors are still successful using only the star charts and stories.”

Other sailors.  If only the Fire Nation had this technology, Zhu Yan was implying that sailors from other nations could still be equal to them.  That couldn’t be true, it couldn’t.  Zuko leapt to his feet, refusing to follow that thought any further.  “Our progress is what makes the Fire Nation great!  How can you choose to ignore that?  I won’t learn it.”  He made sure not to look back at Zhu Yan’s expression as he stormed back to the inside of the ship.

The next time Uncle Iroh decided to press the issue of meditation, he arrived at the door to Zuko’s cabin with an unlit candle and a set of spark rocks.  The wash of shame that coursed through Zuko’s body was so intense he thought for a moment that he would be sick.  “I don’t need that.  Go away!” he shouted.

However, he wasn’t willing to slam the door in Uncle’s face, which left him to watch as Uncle came into the room anyway and set the candle and rocks down on the low table.

“Sit,” Iroh told him in a voice that brokered no argument.

Zuko sat stiffly on his knees, feeling hot and cold all at once at the memory of the last time they had tried.

“As your current firebending master, I don’t believe that is an acceptable answer.  Many soldiers who have been wounded in battle have found they needed to begin from the ground up.  I have even employed this method in the past with some of them personally.”

“I wasn’t wounded in battle,” Zuko snapped.  “I was taught a lesson because I’m a disgrace.”  That’s right, you have no claim to anything honorable soldiers do.

“Regardless of if you were on a battlefield or not, you were done harm by firebending.  If you are determined to regain your skills, I would like you to try this.”

Zuko nodded, tight lipped.  No matter how much he denied it, he still felt the bite of anxiety as Uncle picked up the spark rocks.  It must have shown in his face because Uncle said, “Take a breath, Prince Zuko.  This fire won’t be under anyone’s control.  The only fuel it has is the candle wick, and it cannot leave that.  It cannot hurt you.  Say it please.”

“The candle won’t hurt me,” Zuko repeated with as little feeling as possible, scowling at the ridiculous request.  He knew that.  He had been around candles and lanterns since, it was fine.  He did know that, so why was it so hard to feel it?

“It’s a start.”  Uncle struck the spark rocks.

Zuko bit the inside of his lip hard as the small flame came into being on the wick.  He had still flinched, but at least this time he hadn’t been sent reeling back into the wall.

Uncle’s smile was big, bigger than Zuko felt he deserved.  “Very good.  I want you to watch the flame as I walk us through the sequence, and we’ll go from there.  Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, fine.”  Zuko readjusted his seat into a relaxed lotus position and took a big breath in, eyes on the natural flicker of the candle flame.  “Let’s start.”

Zuko paced up and down the hallway that led to the deck, tense with frustration.  Just the same as Uncle Iroh had been willing to hear no argument about meditation practice, he similarly had insisted that he did not give up on learning navigation.  Zuko didn’t want to continue.  He saw no point in learning from someone who disregarded the greatness of the Fire Nation.  That would not help him regain his honor.

He’d told Uncle as much, had thought that was a good argument.  Why should he listen to someone so dedicated to something old and outdated, something which should have been left behind?  Uncle had only said that meant they needed to reach a compromise.  He had also insisted on an apology.

Zuko pressed the heels of his hands into his forehead and tilted his head up towards the ceiling with a groan.  He did not want to apologize.  Why should he have to apologize for defending the greatness of their nation?  It wasn’t his fault the navigator had backwards ideas!  But Uncle would be upset with him if he didn’t, so he didn’t have much choice but to push open the door and head out onto the deck where Zhu Yan was seated at his normal table.

Zuko stopped a reasonable distance away, in case Zhu Yan was angry with him, and said, “Lieutenant.”

The man looked up from his work, the expression on his face made unreadable by the light and shadow from the lantern.  Zuko couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.  He swallowed against the sudden twisting in his stomach and bowed with the flame.  “General Iroh has suggested I should apologize for causing you offense and walking out on our lesson,” he said stiffly, words he’d been rehearsing in his head all evening.

“Thank you for your apology, but it is unnecessary Prince Zuko.  I’ve been called sentimental by plenty of men before.”

Zuko was sure he had said worse things than ���sentimental,’ but there had been a small part of him that had worried how Zhu Yan would react, which was now breathing a quiet sigh of relief.  He barreled forward, “I’ll keep learning navigation, but only if you teach me the astrolabe and the calculations.”

“That I can do.  Would you like to sit?”

“Another night.”  He wasn’t sure that he was up for much more.  He waited for Zhu Yan to nod his acknowledgement before turning back toward the hold.

He did hold to his word and return the next night, and then a few nights a week after.  Zhu Yan was proficient in the new methods, proven as they successfully arrived at the Northern Air Temple, and then turned sights towards the Eastern.  The new methods also did prove to be a lot of numbers and memorization.  Even without the stories, Zuko still needed to memorize stars and constellations and charts.

Zhu Yan kept to his word about leaving it at that for a few weeks.  The first story happened to coincide with when Zuko was struggling to remember a particular constellation.  He could never remember the shape of the two triangles that came together at a point, almost like an hourglass, or how to find it in the sky.  He had nearly reached the point of giving up looking for it when Zhu Yan began, “When the world was young and spirits roamed the world freely, there was a spirit named Ezi.”

Zuko clenched his jaw against the sudden rush of irritation.  Even if he didn’t care about stupid spirit tales, at least if he said nothing it would get him out of searching skies and maps that were starting to blur even in his good eye.  He turned a page in the star chart book and did his best to look absorbed in it as Zhu Yan continued.

“Ezi lived beneath the earth and sea; she was the heart of the fires within the world, the heat that gave them life.  She watched over the swirling currents of molten stone, yellow like sulfur and orange like the sunset and deep red like a ripe chili pepper.  This was her artwork and her design, a dance and an ever-moving painting all in one.

“While Ezi thought her own works of art must be the most beautiful in the world, she still loved the stories she heard from the Earth whenever she drew new pieces of stone into herself and melted them into her grand work.  The Earth showed her the shapes of crystals and the outlines of plants and animals that had become marks in stone.  It also told her of other spirits, of Air, and especially the Ocean.  The Earth said that the Ocean had currents that danced just like hers.

“Ezi was overcome with jealousy and curiosity.  How could this Ocean create something comparable to her own work?  She begged the Earth for more stories, and it brought them with every new rock that she folded into herself.  She learned that the Ocean was so cool to the touch that creatures could live within it, could add colors she had never even known existed.  She listened to stories of grand structures of coral, which looked like stone but was a living creature.  She learned that the Ocean could even take images and reflect them back on its surface.  

“Soon, Ezi became obsessed with the Ocean, began to dream of things she had only ever known as fleeting shadows or whispered tales.  Soon, it was enough that she hardly had attention for her own dance, and she decided she had to see the Ocean for herself.  She begged the Earth to help her reach the Ocean, and the Earth drew her to a place where it grew thin and brittle.  

“Ezi sent her currents through the cracks until they met something like she had never felt before.  It was nearly freezing, and wet and unknown.  She rushed forward to catch a glimpse of where she had finally met the Ocean, but it only lasted a second.  As the temperature dropped, she felt all the bits of stone and metal slip from her grasp as her heat could only keep them warm enough to dance for so long.  It wasn’t enough.  Ezi gathered more currents and pushed further until she touched the water again, looked at the ocean floor for the briefest second.  This time, there was movement, a creature she recognized from prints in stone but this was more than just an image, and moved faster and more gracefully than her own currents.  

“Ezi knew then that she couldn’t stop.  Every time her warm currents met the cold ones of the Ocean they fell from her grasp, and every time she gathered more to push on for just one more look, for just one more chance to take in a different kind of masterpiece.  She kept working, kept moving up through the bits of Earth that solidified into a mountain under the water, until one day there was no more Ocean left around her.  Instead, for the first time, she met the air, and there learned that she could look down on the Ocean and its constant dance still.  To this day, Ezi still takes advantage of any chance to see more of the Ocean, and any time she finds a place where her currents can dance between, she leaves behind a new kind of artwork.”

“What’s the point of the story then?  Why should I care about some spirit that made a volcano however many years ago that’s supposed to be?  It’s not relevant to me,” Zuko snapped.

Zhu Yan’s face took on an expression like the owlcat that got the cream.  Zuko did not have a good feeling about that look.  “Well, I know you are good at finding the Ocean constellation, yes?  This story helps us remember that the constellation for Ezi can always be found beneath the Ocean.”

Zuko let out a frustrated growl, stood from the table and left without another word.

They fell into a routine as Zuko’s first summer away from home came to a close.  Zhu Yan continued to supervise Zuko as he worked on his measurements and calculations, ready to offer correction or advice.  Whenever he felt the silence had stretched too long (a far shorter period than Zuko would consider an unbearable silence), he would point out a new constellation and launch into another wild spirit tale of how men built the first boats from grand turtle shells, how great hunters and warriors had been immortalized in the sky, or how the spirit of justice dispensed her judgements from behind an impartial porcelain mask.  Zuko would keep his head in the maps, and when Zhu Yan would look back for his reaction once the story ended, he would resolutely scowl or roll his eyes to remind him that all of this was unworthy of a Fire Nation Prince and the advancement of their civilization.  Eventually, Zhu Yan stopped looking, and Zuko stopped having to pretend he hated the tales.

Sometimes, he even enjoyed them.

One evening Zhu Yan began, “Prince Zuko, have you ever heard the tale of how the constellation The Dragon came to be in the sky?”

Zuko looked up from his page of numbers to see Zhu Yan standing near the railing, eyes on the horizon, no doubt looking for the constellation which had prompted the question.  “I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“Ah, you know me too well.”  Zhu Yan turned around and leaned back on the railing so he could be heard over the waves against the hull of the ship and began, “When the world was young, dragons were tasked with the guardianship of fire, just as the badgermoles were to preside over earth, or sky bison the air.  For many generations they kept their elements only to themselves, until there was born a dragon named Druk.

“Druk was a curious and energetic dragon when he was young, always quick to ask questions or think of grand new games.  As he grew, his curiosity became cunning and a penchant for trickery.  Druk could be counted on to cajole any dragon into giving him the best parts of their hunt, or to sneak away with the best treasures, especially when they didn’t belong to him.  He could convince anyone of the wildest, most unlikely stories, and be counted upon to be laughing from an inconspicuous distance whenever there was trouble.

“But if there was one thing that Druk loved more than a good trick, it was humans.  He tired easily of dragons, who lived their long lives so slowly.  Humans, for all that their lives were simple when the race was young, lived with such urgency and bravery.  They had no wings or claws or teeth, but they built tools and took on the most improbable challenges.

“More often than not, Druk watched the humans fail.  Although they tried so hard, they were so fragile.  Other beasts would stalk them in the dark, they would fall easily to the cold or they would succumb to illness from raw food.  So Druk went to the elder dragons and petitioned that they should give some of their fire to humans.

“The council told him that humans were too young and too small to be trusted with such a great responsibility.  After all, fire requires control to wield without causing harm, and the elders did not believe the humans would be able to do this.  They forbade Druk from giving fire to humans, and warned that the consequences of every trick he’d ever played would come back on him doubled if he disobeyed them.

“Druk went away from the meeting, not defeated but scheming.  He thought for weeks, wondering how he could get out from under the watchful eyes of the elders, who had hardly let him out of their sight since.  Finally, he came upon the idea for a race.

“Not only was Druk confident that he was the cleverest dragon, he also believed he was the most nimble too.  He proposed the idea, as something to occupy himself with if he could not go to the humans anymore, then spent the next weeks leading up to the race planting a word here or there that the elders had gotten so old and slow.  How he doubted they could even get off the ground anymore.  If there is one truth about dragons, it is that they are vain, and so just as Druk had planned, every elder was lined up at the start on the day of the race.

“The dragons took to the sky with a mighty roar and rush of wind from their wings.  The elders were larger than Druk and he knew they could outfly him in time.  So instead he twisted and turned in the air, darting here and there, under and over wings and tails and long dragon bodies, all the while taunting the racers to follow him and beat him if they could.  When Druk was finished, all of the other racers had tied themselves into a grand knot of dragons that sunk clumsily to the ground.  Druk laughed as he sped across the finish line and beyond, finally free to grant his fire to humans so they could keep themselves safe and warm.

“Between his tricks and cleverness, Druk was able to stay with humans and teach them what he knew of fire.  He was amazed at the things they began to create – strong tools and bricks for their homes, delicious food, beautiful glass and pottery.  But as with all things, Druk’s luck came to an end.  When the dragons found him, they debated what his punishment should be, and decided that he should have to live as far from humans as possible.  And such, with the help of the spirits who had first entrusted dragons with fire, Druk was placed as a constellation in the sky.  When his judgement was passed down, he only laughed, for this was fit for his last and greatest trick.  Although he would be far apart from humans, he could still watch them from the sky for eternity.”

As per their silent agreement, Zhu Yan turned back towards the sea when he was finished with the story, leaving Zuko behind him staring at the constellation and imagining it dancing in the sky.  The picture stayed with him all through the rest of the lesson, and in his dreams, he saw dragons shaping metal and glass with their breath.  The next morning at meditation practice, Zuko was still absorbed in wishing he could have met the dragons.  He hardly noticed that Uncle Iroh had lit the candles with his own fire rather than the spark rocks, until the same moment that he realized he hadn’t flinched away.

By the time autumn had begun to march on towards winter, Zuko was gaining some level of confidence that he could identify most constellations in the sky, could measure them and do the calculations he needed to pinpoint his location on a map.  He had also heard more myths than he had thought possible for one person to keep in their head.  “Why do you care enough about all of these myths to have them memorized?” he asked one evening, when the sea air was a bit too cold, his eyes straining to focus in the lantern light, and his heart only too aware of how long they’d been far from home.

“Everyone loves a good story!” Zhu Yan looked toward Zuko for confirmation and sighed as he met the corresponding glare.  “But, in all seriousness, and if nothing else, this is the one for you to remember.”

“Another story?” Zuko groaned.  “Why is the answer to every question another story?  You’re just as bad as Uncle with tea or proverbs.”

“I promise it’s less of a story than something to think about.  So we know that Agni is the spirit associated with our sun, yes?  Well, every star in the sky is another sun somewhere out there, farther away than we could ever imagine.  Every one of them is Agni’s brother or sister or sibling.  The constellations and their stories are important to me because being under the stars is like being under the light of a thousand suns.”  Zhu Yan turned his face up to the sky as if to try to feel the light.  “Why wouldn’t we want to find a way to connect ourselves to that?”

Zuko didn’t have an answer, and for once, didn’t have a disparaging comment either.  The stars were suns far away?  Did this mean that when he liked being under the stars it didn’t mean he was a disgrace as a firebender?

Almost as if he could read his thoughts, Zhu Yan continued, “That’s one of the reasons I love the Fire Nation, and firebending.  Since firebending comes from the sun, when we bend we’re also as close as we can be to the stars.”

Zhu Yan fell uncharacteristically silent after that.  For the rest of the evening’s practice, hardly another word was spoken. Zuko found himself forgetting his earlier complaints, instead enraptured by the thought of light and heat and fire so far away he could barely see it.

After they packed up and parted for the evening, Zuko returned to his quarters with energy humming in his veins.  He sat himself cross legged in front of his meditation candles and took a deep, steadying breath inward.  Firebending came from the breath, Uncle always said.  And according to Zhu Yan, it also connected them to the sky.  How could that be so bad, to hold a piece of a star in his hands?

Zuko let out his breath and drew in a new one, trying to feed his inner fire.  It had been so long, he had almost forgotten the pleasant trickle of warmth along the skin of his hands.  Another, and he held his palms up in front of him, and watched as a tiny spark bloomed an inch above his skin and grew into a small, but real flickering flame.

[newstfionline]

Thursday, May 6, 2021

Nearly 20 million more people hit by food crises last year (Reuters) Nearly 20 million more people faced food crises last year amid armed conflict, the COVID-19 pandemic and weather extremes, and the outlook for this year is again grim, according to a report by the Global Network Against Food Crises. The humanitarian agency, set up in 2016 by the European Union and United Nations, also warned that acute food insecurity has continued to worsen since 2017, the first year of its annual report into food crises. “We must do everything we can to end this vicious cycle. There is no place for famine and starvation in the 21st century,” said U.N. Secretary General Antonio Guterres. He added that conflict and hunger need to be tackled jointly, as they reinforce one another. Defined as any lack of food that threatens lives, livelihoods or both, acute food insecurity at crisis levels or worse impacted at least 155 million people last year, the highest number in the report’s five-year existence.

America’s new normal: A degree hotter than two decades ago (AP) America’s new normal temperature is a degree hotter than it was just two decades ago. Scientists have long talked about climate change—hotter temperatures, changes in rain and snowfall and more extreme weather—being the “new normal.” Data released Tuesday by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration put hard figures on the cliché. The new United States normal is not just hotter, but wetter in the eastern and central parts of the nation and considerably drier in the West than just a decade earlier. “Almost every place in the U.S. has warmed from the 1981 to 2010 normal to the 1991 to 2020 normal,” said Michael Palecki, NOAA’s normals project manager.

Nature at its craziest: Trillions of cicadas about to emerge (AP) Sifting through a shovel load of dirt in a suburban backyard, Michael Raupp and Paula Shrewsbury find their quarry: a cicada nymph. And then another. And another. And four more. In maybe a third of a square foot of dirt, the University of Maryland entomologists find at least seven cicadas—a rate just shy of a million per acre. A nearby yard yielded a rate closer to 1.5 million. And there’s much more afoot. Trillions of the red-eyed black bugs are coming, scientists say. Within days, a couple weeks at most, the cicadas of Brood X (the X is the Roman numeral for 10) will emerge after 17 years underground. There are many broods of periodic cicadas that appear on rigid schedules in different years, but this is one of the largest and most noticeable. They’ll be in 15 states from Indiana to Georgia to New York; they’re coming out now in mass numbers in Tennessee and North Carolina. When the entire brood emerges, backyards can look like undulating waves, and the bug chorus is lawnmower loud.

Reuniting refugee families (Washington Post) President Biden began fulfilling a campaign promise Tuesday as U.S. authorities started to help to reunite a number of migrant families forcibly separated by the previous administration. President Donald Trump imposed a “zero tolerance” policy on those crossing the U.S. border illegally that led to myriad unauthorized migrants being rushed through criminal proceedings and deported while their children who had accompanied them remained in the United States. It was easier to track the children than their parents. In some instances, advocates had to post radio advertisements in Mexico and Central America. The reunions Tuesday would mark, Kevin Sieff wrote, “the start of a massive relocation of parents deported by one U.S. president and returned by another. In total, more than 1,000 families are expected to be reunited.”

The Little Nation That Could (Guardian) The island of Cuba is dealing with a pandemic while suffering its worst economic crisis since the collapse of the Soviet Union. The US trade embargo restricts the medical equipment the island can import; even so, of the 27 coronavirus vaccines in final stage testing around the world, two are Cuban. The UN has called on the US to lift sanctions on the island during the pandemic, but the embargo has actually toughened since the outgoing Trump administration put Cuba on the US list of state sponsors of terrorism. “The US is trying to starve Cuba into submission,” said one of the doctors on the coronavirus taskforce. “It’s not only that it’s difficult to buy things directly from the US. It’s also that all these sanctions that the Trump administration put in place have dried up many sources of revenue.” Nevertheless, Cuban scientists are confident that widespread vaccination will be attained this year. “When you have everything, you don’t have to think so much.” said another scientist. “But when you have difficulties, you have to think up new ways to innovate.”

Years of Unheeded Warnings. Then the Subway Crash Mexico City Had Feared. (NYT) The capital had been bracing for the disaster for years. Ever since it opened nearly a decade ago, the newest Mexico City subway line—a heralded expansion of the second largest subway system in the Americas—had been plagued with structural weaknesses that led engineers to warn of potential accidents. Yet other than a brief, partial shutdown of the line in 2014, the warnings went unheeded by successive governments. On Monday night, the mounting problems turned fatal: A subway train on the Golden Line plunged about 50 feet after an overpass collapsed underneath it, killing at least 24 people and injuring dozens more. The accident—and the government’s failure to act sooner to fix known problems with the line—immediately set off a political firestorm for three of the most powerful people in Mexico: the president and the two people widely believed to be front-runners to succeed him as leaders of the governing party and possibly, the country.

Brexit problems (Foreign Policy) France has threatened “retaliatory measures”—including cutting power to Jersey, the largest of the Channel Islands—as tensions rise over fishing rights between Britain and France. Since the post-Brexit trade deal, French fishermen have been angered by delays in newly required licenses that have prevented them from accessing British waters—an area they say is necessary for their livelihoods.

Scottish independence 'front and center' in May 6 election (Washington Post) Scotland goes to the polls Thursday in a vote that could eventually lead to a truly historic event: the crackup of the United Kingdom. The independence movement has gained momentum in the wake of Prime Minister Boris Johnson’s Brexit. And the pandemic has further encouraged the idea that Scotland might be better off going its own way, with policies determined in Edinburgh viewed more favorably by Scots than those pronounced at Westminster. As a result, the Scottish National Party, led by the popular First Minister of Scotland, Nicola Sturgeon, 50, is expected to perform well in Thursday’s vote for seats in the regional Parliament, with pro-independence parties winning a solid majority of the 129 seats in Holyrood. The talk shows, political magazines and news columns in Britain are full of speculation about a looming breakup. Since 2014, Scotland has voted overwhelmingly against Brexit, 62 percent to 38 percent. Many Scots then saw Johnson’s hard-split version of Brexit as an unnecessary affront. And since Britain left the European Union, Scotland has tallied more harms than benefits. The Scottish fishermen, for instance, say their industry is in crisis.

Belgian cyberattack (1440) Belgium was hit with a sweeping cyberattack yesterday, leaving its parliament, government agencies, universities, and other organizations without internet service for hours. The effort knocked out both websites and internal systems, including the country’s coronavirus vaccine registration portal. Hackers targeted the government’s service provider with a distributed denial-of-service, or DDoS, attack—a strategy that overwhelms networks with massive amounts of artificial internet traffic. Experts say such attacks are often meant to knock systems offline rather than steal information. It was unclear who was behind the attack. The incident highlights the growing ability of cybercriminals, either independent or state-affiliated, to strike unprepared governments and companies—some estimate cyberattacks will cost the global economy $6T in losses in 2021.

EU seeks rapid response military force, two decades after first try (Reuters) Fourteen European Union countries including Germany and France have proposed a rapid military response force that could intervene early in international crises, a senior EU official said on Wednesday, two decades after a previous attempt. The countries say the EU should create a brigade of 5,000 soldiers, possibly with ships and aircraft, to help democratic foreign governments needing urgent help, the official said. First discussed in 1999, the EU in 2007 set up a combat-ready system of battlegroups of 1,500 personnel to respond to crises, but they have never been used. Those battle groups could now form the basis of a so-called First Entry Force, part of a new momentum towards more EU defence capabilities. From this year, the bloc has a joint budget to develop weaponry together, is drawing up a military doctrine for 2022 and detailed its military weakness last year for the first time.

Staunch anti-India Kashmir politician dies in police custody (AP) A prominent politician in Kashmir who challenged India’s rule over the disputed region for decades died Wednesday while in police custody. Mohammed Ashraf Sehrai was 78. Sehrai’s son, Mujahid Sehrai, said his father was denied proper medical care while in jail. Sehrai was arrested last July under the Public Safety Act, which allows authorities in Indian-controlled Kashmir to imprison anyone for up to two years without trial. All Parties Hurriyat Conference, the main separatist grouping in Kashmir, said authorities had left Sehrai unattended in jail until his condition worsened. In a statement, it said it “deeply regrets this inhuman attitude of the authorities and is pained by it.” It also expressed concern about the health of hundreds of other Kashmiri political detainees as India faces a massive health crisis because of an explosion of coronavirus cases. Last week, the grouping said the prisoners were being denied “even basic amenities,” leading to “serious health problems among the prisoners.”

India’s COVID-19 surge spreads to Nepal (Reuters) Nepal is being overwhelmed by a COVID-19 surge as India’s outbreak spreads across South Asia, the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies said on Wednesday. Nepal is now recording 57 times as many cases as a month ago, with 44% of tests now coming back positive. Nepalese towns near the Indian border could not cope with the growing number of people needing treatment, while only 1% of the country’s population was fully vaccinated.

Myanmar’s military disappearing young men to crush uprising (AP) Myanmar’s security forces moved in and the street lamps went black. In house after house, people shut off their lights. Darkness swallowed the block. When the military’s trucks finally rolled away, Shwe’s 15-year-old brother was missing. Across the country, Myanmar’s security forces are arresting and forcibly disappearing thousands of people, especially boys and young men, in a sweeping bid to break the back of a three-month uprising against a military takeover. In most cases, the families of those taken do not know where they are, according to an Associated Press analysis of more than 3,500 arrests since February. It is a technique the military has long used to instill fear and to crush pro-democracy movements. The boys and young men are taken from homes, businesses and streets, under the cover of night and sometimes in the brightness of day. Some end up dead. Many are imprisoned and sometimes tortured. Many more are missing.

Turkey and Egypt on the mend (Foreign Policy) Representatives from Turkey and Egypt meet in Cairo today for “exploratory” discussions “on the necessary steps that may lead towards the normalization of relations” according to a joint statement. Relations between the two countries have frayed due to maritime border disputes, Libya’s civil war, and President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s opposition to the 2013 coup which brought Egyptian President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi to power. There were some signs of rapprochement in March, when the Turkish government directed Muslim Brotherhood-affiliated media channels in the country to refrain from criticizing the Egyptian president.

Why Nearsightedness Is on the Rise in Children (NYT) Look and you shall see: A generation of the real-life nearsighted Mr. Magoos is growing up before your eyes. A largely unrecognized epidemic of nearsightedness, or myopia, is afflicting the eyes of children. People with myopia can see close-up objects clearly, like the words on a page. But their distance vision is blurry, and correction with glasses or contact lenses is likely to be needed for activities like seeing the blackboard clearly, cycling, driving or recognizing faces down the block. The growing incidence of myopia is related to changes in children’s behavior, especially how little time they spend outdoors, often staring at screens indoors instead of enjoying activities illuminated by daylight. Gone are the days when most children played outside between the end of the school day and suppertime. And the devastating pandemic of the past year may be making matters worse. The prevalence of myopia in the United States increased from 25 percent in the early 1970s to nearly 42 percent just three decades later. And the rise in myopia is not limited to highly developed countries. The World Health Organization estimates that half the world’s population may be myopic by 2050.

[thetomorrowshow]

Mutually Beneficial Ch. xvi

First  -  Previous  -  Next

Recommended listening: Faouzia - Bad Dreams

Tw: Brief mention of blood, detailed panic attack

-

“Remus! Remus?”

On a normal day, Deceit rather enjoyed the Imagination. It was calming, certain parts of it susceptible to his sculpting. In the past, he'd spent hours at a time, cultivating his pet project—a flower garden. Drooping daffodils, wilting irises, withered tulips. He'd tried everything—more shade, less shade, fertilizer, regulated water. Nothing he did kept the flowers alive, but he never abandoned it.

Now, however, he walked briskly past it. He wasn't here for a relaxing session of digging up the weeds that seemed to pop out of nowhere. He was on a mission.

“Remus!” he called. Nothing. Birds twittered, cicadas buzzed, the quiet rumble of a dragon sounded nearby—an almost sure sign that Roman was somewhere near. Deceit chose not to track Roman down to ask him about the whereabouts of his brother.

The choice was rejected by some deity, though, as a figure in white burst from the forest Deceit was about to venture into. Roman appeared to be running for his life, but stopped short when he saw Deceit. His still-bruised face paled a shade,, and he looked like he was about to turn around, when he seized with pain and fell to his knees.

Deceit really didn't want to help—was loathe to even approach—but continued forward on the dirt path until he stood by the prince's side, and looked down at him.

One hand was on the ground, the other clutched to his side as little gasps hissed through clenched teeth. His hair was plastered to his forehead, drops of sweat rolling down his cheeks. Deceit wasn't sure how to help. He was certain that anything he could offer, Roman wouldn't want. Eventually, he settled for something neutral.

“Have you seen Remus?”

Roman fell further, flat out on the ground, then rolled onto his back. He seemed to have not heard, not even acknowledging the question, instead undoing the clasp at the top of his uniform, then yanking it over his head. Crisp white bandages were wrapped around his torso, bright red pinpricks blooming in places on his chest.

“Mother Gothel,” Roman gasped. “Logan will kill me.”

Deceit sighed. Already knowing the response, he asked, “Can I be of any help?”

“No—no, no,” Roman said, a little too quickly. “I just—I'm fine.”

That was a lie, Deceit noted wryly. Roman looked like he was about to pass out. The gaunt shadows under his eyes told tales of sleepless nights, stark against his pasty face. His eyes were bone-weary and fearful, peeking out from under heavy eyelids. He seemed barely able to stand, let alone get himself home.

Despite the answer in the negative, Deceit crouched down, unsure as to what to do, but hoping a hand on Roman's shoulder would help ground him. However, the opposite appeared to be true.

Almost as soon as he touched him, Roman went from slowly gaining his breath to utterly hysterical. His breathing came faster, cries sounding like they came from a wounded animal tore from his throat. He writhed for a moment, then as Deceit removed his hand, Roman's muscles all locked and he began to shake uncontrollably.

“Roman?”

A sob wracked the prince's body. Deceit could see how tight Roman's jaw was clenched, skin stretched taut over his cheekbones. His eyes were blank, clouded over, staring into nothing. Deceit didn't know what to do. His mind raced as he tried to understand what was happening.

“Roman, can you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” came the whispered reply. “I���gosh, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die—”

“Roman?”

“M—my sword,” Roman managed, his teeth clacking against each other. Deceit spotted the hilt, the blade hidden by the sheath at Roman's hip. He knelt beside him, took his wrist to guide it to the sword. Roman choked at the touch, but Deceit moved quickly, leaving Roman's hand wrapped around the hilt.

He peeked around the corner, hearing something from the other side. Curled up against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, was Anxiety, in all his dark glory. Tears dripped from unseeing eyes, ragged gasps came from his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked timidly.

No response. Anxiety didn't even seem to hear him. Slowly, Deceit backed away, resolving to never mention it again.

Deceit blinked the memory away. He'd realized, not long after that incident, that Virgil had been suffering from a panic attack. He could now draw the parallels between that moment and this one. Roman, while displaying some different symptoms, was clearly in the same boat.

He really had no clue as to how to calm down Roman, especially since his touch appeared to have set off the attack. Roman had earlier seemed to not want Logan to be aware of his plight, the only Side who would actually know what to do in this situation. With no other option, he decided to wait it out.

Of course, he could continue looking for Remus—in fact, he should, who knew what condition Patton was in—but was loathe to leave Roman's side. He had nothing against the prince. It wouldn't do to be hated even more, so an act of kindness was in line.

Eventually, Roman sounded like he was gaining control of his breathing. Deceit looked over from where he'd been drawing in the dirt (a prim house, smoke curling from the chimney) and saw that Roman's eyes were more clear, though his knuckles were still white around the hilt of his sword.

“So,” spoke Deceit, trying to act as if nothing had happened. “How was the dragon?”

“M-manticore, actually.”

Deceit nodded sagely. “Of course. How silly of me.”

Roman struggled to sit up. The pinpricks of red on his torso expanded.

“Maybe you shouldn't do that.”

The prince froze; his eyes flashed with fear. “Don't—!”

“Don't what?” His mind filled in the blank, though. Don't hurt me. Something deep down stirred. The words were achingly familiar. Deceit fidgeted. He didn't have time to deal with Roman's feelings. He needed to get to Patton before Remus did who knows what to him.

“Roman.”

Roman flinched, then met his eyes.

“I'll leave, just say the word. But know this.” Deceit stood, dusted his gloved hands off. “This isn't about you. It is a matter between Virgil and myself.”

Roman looked away. Deceit almost left—he was practically bouncing, needing to find Remus—when Roman whispered words weighted with despair.

“Then why did you break me?”

It almost physically hurt, twisting a knife in his heart and waking an old instinct, making him want to tell Roman over and over that they would get through this together, that it would be okay. Deceit pushed the words back down his throat.

“You got in the way.”

-

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships @stop-it-anxiety @kai-the-person @shitpost-sides  @bl00scl00s @charakitcat @ainsleyf @sandersstuffsblog @ginnyfox617 @enragedbees @minty4green @eggy-boyo @escalatingtoofast @hayden-going-insane @piixelations @supersoftsupersleep @crowsmadreadful @hpdmmdundtl @imnotjustanxiety @thenewlarislynn @mooniecoockie @emilybaker607

[aberzombieandwitch]

Nope Forever Woods by Eek_afreak 🎃👻

Made this account purely to participate because I have a recent weird experience. This story is from about two months ago. I have no clear explanation for what the hell happened and it took me three attempts to work myself up to remembering it in enough detail to write it down. Here goes.

My husband and I are moderately unambitious hikers. As in, we enjoy going for a bit of a hill climb in the morning and then visiting a local brewery or something in the afternoon. In about mid-August of this year we decide to head over to a nearby civil war battlefield (we live in Virginia, about 85% of our parks seem to have been civil war battlefields so this is not considered a strange thing to do at all). A friend of ours and her two kids is visiting from PA so we invite them along.

The group is composed of me, the husband, our friend who I’ll call Sara and her two children. Tyler who is 14 and Alicia, 11. We set off on one of the marked trails but it’s more difficult than we had planned. We scramble up and down about three heavily wooded hills (about 40 degree incline up and down) on trails that are eroding pretty badly thanks to all the recent rain. We stop at the bottom of hill #3 (looking up at hill #4 from a bridge over a creek) to catch our breath. Sara and the husband are both trying to stay positive. Alicia is huffing and starting to whine and Tyler clearly thinks we’re all idiots and wishes he were anywhere else (admittedly he’s a 14 year old boy so he’s always seems on the verge of this attitude).

While Sara and the husband are working to rally the troops I’m retying my boot and craning my neck to see if there’s a secondary trail that’s a bit less vertical we could follow. At which point I see him. Now it should be noted that we have seen no other hikers until this point. That is a little unusual as this park is not far from town (it’s accessible through a neighborhood and we’d seen several dog walkers on the way in). However, we’ve taken what is clearly more of a nature trail than the flatter, better maintained ‘historic’ trail to the battlefield and cemetery. So I’m not initially concerned by the appearance of this new person. Quite the opposite actually. I’ve been worrying for the past 30-40 minutes that we’ve lost the normal hiking trails and have been mistakenly following temporary stream cuts over hill and dale.

In my newfound enthusiasm I wave at the figure, who is too far away from me to make out features except they are wearing what I think are dark long trousers and a long sleeve shirt.

As I do my husband says, honey, who’re you waving at? I turn and say, that guy, pointing at the top of the hill. But he’s no longer visible. I shrug it off, thinking he must have started down the trail.

We finally make it to level ground about 20 minutes later. The trees are even beginning to thin out as we walk along a long ridge. We stop for another breather/water break at the first historical placard we’ve seen in the park. As Sara reads aloud about general whomever and his exploits in 1860-something I notice Tyler standing about five feet away looking back down the path. I wander over to check up on him.

Who’s that? He asks me as I get close, pointing down the trail.

He’s acting weird. Tyler says. I remember feeling my scalp shrink up a bit under my hair as I say, trying to sound unconcerned and like the responsible adult in the situation, weird how?

Tyler says, I think he’s crawling or something. Look.

Now I really, really don’t want to look. But there’s still a possibility that Tyler may be fucking with me because he’s bored and 14. So I look. And I don’t see whomever Tyler is pointing at for a minute. Until I look at the ground near where the trail levels off at the top of the hill. Where there’s a dark, man shaped thing laid out on the ground. Kind of belly crawling. This is the point where I realize two things. 1. I cannot make out any features of this person, not clothes, not a face, nothing. They are just uniformly dark, like they’re perpetually in shadow. Even while they are crawling across the sunnier parts of the trail. 2. We need to not be in the woods anymore.

As I turn to Tyler to tell him to move for the visible battlefield area (where there are also several tour groups and dog walkers visible) my husband, Sara and Alicia suddenly join us, having noticed we were not participating in the historical marker read-along.

The husband asks me what’s up. And I say (quietly so nobody panics), we need to head out, that guy is creeping me out. My husband squints down the trail and says, what guy?

I look. Dude is still there, he’s paused in the belly crawling and is kind of concealed by some brush (also he’s still looks like he’s in shadow) but he’s visible. The guy crawling toward us. I say, sure that this will convince my suddenly unobservant husband that shit is not right. The husband squints right at the guy, clearly does not see him, and looks at me confused.

Tyler, proving that all my bad assumptions about teen boys are wrong in his case, sensibly decides that he’s not going to wait around for the adults to sort this out. He takes his sister’s hand (which I have NEVER seen him do btw and I have known this kid since he was 10) and starts walking quickly toward the sunlight and non-shadow people. Sara follows them immediately without a word to us. At which point the man-shadow starts crawling towards us again.

I’m done, needless to say. The woods, which had been feeling very cool and nice on a hot August day, now seem clammy, cold and inexplicably quiet. I drag my husband along with me without explanation as it’s clear he still isn’t seeing the crawling man or whatever the hell it is.

We make it out into the maintained, sunny battlefield area almost at a run. I do not look back until we are well clear of the woods and in glaring sunlight with many non-shadow people nearby. I cannot see the man in the trees. The tree line we have just emerged from appears extremely dark in contrast with the bright, sunny field.

But I can’t shake the feeling that he’s still back there, just past where I can see. I don’t want to freak everyone out more, especially Sara and Alicia(both of them are notorious scared-y cats, like Sara almost threw up in terror on the Haunted Mansion ride at Disney World once and Alicia is just like her mom). So I don’t say anything. I just watch the woods very closely as we explore the battlefield.

The biggest problem now is that to get back to the parking lot we have to go back into said woods. Luckily the trail from the historical area is not the one we were on and is much wider, flatter, shorter and full of people. I make the executive decision to behave like a heard animal and manage to chat our way in amongst one of the tours of civil war buffs. We all walk off together toward the parking lot without incident but I do note that Tyler is again sticking close to his mother and sister and is not objecting to having to move at our new groups’ slow pace.

Once we get to the car everything seems fine. The cicadas and peepers have started back up and the oppressive feeling is gone. It’s just the Virginia woods in August again. We wait for most of the group to climb into cars as we say our goodbyes. We’re toward the end of the que following one couple in a big SUV down the one gravel road out of the park. Suddenly the SUV slams on the breaks and we almost rear-end them. And then they sit there in front of us, on the only road out of the park, for no discernable reason, for several minutes. Finally, the chorus of annoyed horns behind us seem to snap them out of it and they start driving again. We follow and, as they exit the park, they pull over.

My husband decides to check and see if they’re okay, because he’s a genuinely nice person. He pulls up and rolls down my window. The driver rolls his down and my husband asks if everything’s okay. Sure, the driver says, but boy that guy crawling across the road about scared the life out of me.

At which point I hear Tyler say hell no from the seat behind me. I can feel sweat popping out along the small of my back despite the A/C.

My husband says, what man? The SUV driver, who I think looks pale and kind of freaked out but that could be me reading into the situation, says, you didn’t see him? A guy in dark clothes army-crawled across the road in front of us, you didn’t see him go into the brush on the other side of the road?

No, says my husband.

I’m on the verge of hyperventilating at this point. Seeing this, my husband wraps up the conversation with a comment like, huh, so weird. Well, if everything’s okay then we’ll just be going. Then he rolls up the window and drives damn fast out of that neighborhood.

We compare notes that afternoon (carefully so as to keep Alicia and Sara calm). Tyler and I saw the shadow man (whom Tyler independently described as a man shaped shadow) crawling toward us on that last ridge. Sara would not admit to seeing anything though she seemed extremely uneasy for the rest of the day and would not let any of us mention it to Alicia (but again, she might have just picked up on the vibe of the rest of the group). My husband didn’t see anything but did note how quiet the woods had been for the last five to ten minutes of our hike.

I have not the slightest clue if what we saw was a very messed up person trying to scare us (if so, mission accomplished) or something supernatural. But I can tell you I will not be hiking that particular park any time soon.

Submitted 2019 scary stories from Jezebel

[ikisbookshelf]

Kyoru - Day 1: Stay

Prompt: Stay

Words: 2374

Rating: Teen

Beware, this fic contains major spoilers of the manga series! 

---

He couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. It all had to be a very good dream. A miserable one when he’d awaken from it.

Kyo could finally hug her- and his head couldn’t wrap itself around that.

Emotion bubbled out from his chest as he enveloped his strong arms around her petite waist. Tohru felt warm. She felt like- like Tohru. Hugging her for the first time without transforming into a strange orange house pet filled him with an unknown warmth that spread itself like wildfire through every inch of his body.

Tears spilled silently as he yanked that damn bracelet of his wrist, the snapping sound filling the silence as both Tohru and he held their breaths.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

The thunderous sound of the beads crashing on the cement of the park resonated as they rolled off in every direction, finally having broken free of their thread. Kyo was finally free. The cat had managed to escaped his faith.

He was sure it was because of her. She was always the answer for everything good that happened in his life.

Tohru had spent the remaining quarter of the hour of their time at the park picking up each fallen bead, cradling it within her hands all whilst she wept. It had also set part of her free when the animals of the zodiac had said their final goodbyes to God.

The rest of the walk home was quiet. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Neither of them had anything to say. All that mattered was that they could finally be together after all that time, with no strings attached, literally.

Their hands were clasped together, either of them too afraid to let go. They silently feared that if they let go of each other, the curse would somehow revert itself back to being present, the day’s events too good to be true.

---

Arriving home felt surreal. The quietness as they made their way through the entrance was unsettling. Kyo nor Tohru felt ready to break the silence either. What if—what if when they acknowledged the fact that they were together, it would end this unrealistic dream?

Words weren’t necessary in this case, though. A permanent rosy colour painting their cheeks and the occasional soft smile whenever their eyes met was enough communication the two had to make. They simply understood one another.

Both young adults ambled to the living room, Kyo taking a seat facing the kitchen and Tohru continuing towards it to prepare some tea.

Her dainty hands trembled as she descended two mugs from the cabinet above her head. She filled the kettle with enough tap water for two and the familiar clicking sounds of the stove being turned on resonated throughout the main living area.  

It took a few minutes for the kettle to boil, giving Tohru a moment to collect her thoughts. What now? She hadn’t envisioned this far, not after the incident that brought her into the hospital. But that didn’t matter anymore; She and Kyo were finally together, and that’s all she had ever wished for. She shouldn’t be more selfish than that.

The screech of the water having reached its boiling temperature and the clasping of the fluttering cap as it expelled puffs of warm humid air caught her by surprise. She squeaked in response, clutching the side of the kitchen counter she was leaning against.

“Idiot, it’s just the kettle. You started it in the first place,” a gentle male voice replied behind her. She felt his warm and tender hands snake around her waist once more.

Kyo held her tightly, refusing to let go. He pressed his chin to the top of her head, smelling her body’s natural perfume.

Tohru, Tohru, Tohru. The only word that filled his brain.

He couldn’t get enough of her.

“I’m sorry I got scared Kyo-kun. I didn’t expect the water to boil so soon,” she replied, giggling a few times and breathing a sigh of contentment as she felt the kindhearted presence of her now boyfriend directly against her.

His teasing dramatic sigh sent them both in a laughing fit as they captured this precious memory in their minds. One of many they would make as a couple, that was certain.

---

The evening came and went, the pair eating dinner alone without the company of the other inhabitants of the house.

“I wonder what Shigure-san and Yuki-kun are up to. I should prepare them a plate just in case they arrive and haven’t already eaten,” she pondered aloud, mostly to herself.

“Ah, don’t bother with them. They can feed themselves. At this rate, they’re probably all together at the main house weeping about the curse,” Kyo replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“But- but that’s no good! I should call them to see if they’re okay,” Tohru answered, panic lacing her voice as she pushed herself up from her seated position at the living-room table, eyes fixated on the hall where the telephone was located.

“Tohru,” he retorted as his hand reached out to grab her wrist before she got away too far from him, “you’re making too big a deal out of this. They’ll come when they’re ready.”

“You’re probably right,” she mumbled, tears starting to well up in her eyes as she gazed into his feline-shaped ones.

The petite girl slumped back down on the ground, sitting beside Kyo this time.

“That’s my idiot,” he said, gently stroking her hair as he pulled her into a side embrace, resting his head atop of hers.

Tohru snuggled deeper to his side, humming pleasantly as she could finally be close to the one she loved. Never had she envisioned this day truly become a reality. She hated to be pessimistic, but the thought of the curse breaking and hugging the orange haired boy she’d grown so fond of, was only in her furthest fantasies.

---

The two of them had been inseparable throughout the day, joined by the hip. Tohru had insisted they wait for Yuki and Shigure, only for 9 pm to roll around. At that point, Kyo got impatient and decided he’d head up to his room.

“You’re welcome to join me, I’m probably just going to do a bit of reading or training, nothing exciting,” he told her, trying not to sound too hopefully. He’d become soft, that he knew—but he hadn’t become that soft.

“Okay! Let me go get a book too!” she exclaimed, thrilled by the invitation.

Her heart started to race even more when she bounded up the stairs, Kyo trailing behind her at a much slower pace. He’d never invited her in his room to “hang-out” before. Tohru knew that boyfriends and girlfriends became intimate with one another over time, but she was certain that’s not what Kyo had intended. They could finally be at peace and spend time together without the risk of being forcefully torn apart. And that was the greatest feeling of all.

“Slow down or you’ll trip and fall,” his voice resonated down the hall behind her as she had already practically made her way up to her room a few doors down.

She giggled and turned to beam at him, giving one of her signatures smiles before waltzing through her room’s doorway. He chuckled and returned her smile. A true smile.

Tohru hurriedly rummaged through her small collection of belongings. She had a few books that Hana and Uo had lent or given to her over the years, grabbing a few of them she thought could be interesting.

It hadn’t even been a few minutes before Kyo heard a soft rapping noise at his door.

“Come in,” she heard from behind the door.

As she turned the doorknob slowly and stepped inside his room, she tried to memorize each aspect. Kyo had been a fairly secretive person with his personal life and she hadn’t had many opportunities to see his room.

He must have noticed she was staring at her surroundings as he proclaimed, “Boring, I know.”

Tohru wouldn’t call his room boring. It just wasn’t lavish or extravagant, and there was nothing wrong about that. It was very natural, just like him.

“Nu-huh. It’s just like Kyo-kun,” she declared in all certainty.

“Goof.”

It didn’t take her long to join him around the small table in the middle of the room. He offered her a pillow to sit on and the two sat crossed legged, beside one another like the lovey-dovey lovebirds they were. The window was open so the occasional cicada or bird noise could be heard, but apart from that, only the sound of beating hearts filled the room.

Minutes turned into hours before Kyo noticed that the slumped-up figure beside him had fallen asleep. She had said nothing or really moved during the entire time they were reading, and he had been too engrossed in his novel he didn’t even notice her falling asleep.

He tried as best as he could to remove the magazine she had been looking at. It was open at a page of a local zoo not too far from the Sohma residence. Perhaps she’d been wanting to go? He’d have to be certain to ask her about it tomorrow.

Kyo slipped the pages out of her delicate hands and placed it on the table. Now would be the tricky part. How could he reposition her to a futon without waking her up? Luckily for him, his girlfriend was a deep sleeper and despite gently placing her against the floor as he wriggled to get off with as little movement as possible, she hadn’t stirred.

He let out a breath he wasn’t even aware he had been holding as he stood up to set up his futon close to the window. He unrolled the soft bedcovers and placed his two pillows side by side.

As he went to pick up Tohru, she let out a few unintelligible mumbles below her breath. Whatever she was dreaming about, it seemed serious the way her eyebrows were drawn so closely together.

He gently laid her down on his bed and covered her small frame with his large futon cover. Kyo tucked her in before getting back up to get changed. He had been wearing the same sweater since this morning and it was too warm to sleep in it. Browsing in his dresser, he pulled out a plain blue t-shirt and a pair of black sweats with a white stripe running down each leg.

Kyo had two choices. He could either risk waking her up when he exited the room since his door squeaked, or he could pray she wouldn’t wake up and change technically in front of her.

He chose the latter.

Swallowing up his pride, he turned his back to her and faced the wall. He stripped down to his boxers and quickly pulled over his night garments. Peaking over his shoulder, he noticed that  Tohru had turned onto her side, but was still taking deep shallow breaths. Good, she hadn’t woken up.

Deep down, had he wanted her to wake up? Did he want her to see him in that way now that they had confessed each other’s love?

No! There was no way in hell that Kyo was thinking such impure thoughts! He shook his head a few times hoping it would chase that kind of thinking away. There was no way he could think like that yet. Plus, he highly doubted Tohru would even ever think of him like that. Fuck no. What in the world had gotten into him?

He sighed and ran his hands from his face to his hair trying to shake off these feelings that had steadily grown over the past year. Not today, he told himself.

Kyo placed himself on the ground beside the futon and slipped one of his floor cushions under his head. He curled up with his back facing her. Unable to sleep due to his racing heart, he stared at the stars and the moon outside of his window.

An hour passed by before he heard the commotion happening on the floor below. The rest of the household had finally arrived home. He wouldn’t go see them, though, he could deal with them tomorrow morning when he had more energy. For now, he’d enjoy these last few minutes with Tohru before she’d wake up and would realize that she’d fallen asleep in the wrong room.

He heard the knocking down the hall which was presumably the oh-so-perfect rat trying to check if she was awake.

His assumption had been right as the knocking sound was quickly followed by a faint, but still distinguishable, “Miss Honda?”

Obviously, there had been no response.

Don’t you dare come here and embarrass her, you darned rat!

Kyo turned to face her when he heard her stir beside him. Apparently, the commotion of the entryway was enough noise to wake her. Her eyes struggled to open as she let out a soft wince. Her hands came up to her eyes, and she methodically rubbed the sleepiness out of them.

“K-Kyo-kun?” she asked as she was greeted with the sight of him lying on his side, prompting his head up with his hand.

“Mhm?”

“I should probably go to sleep,” she mumbled as she tried to push herself off from her comfortable position.

“Can you please… stay?” Kyo murmured, so softly he doubted she even heard him.

Tohru’s face flushed and even in the room's darkness, it was visible. She gave him a slight nervous nod. Her eyes looked at the floor and a small smile tugged at her lips.

She scooted towards the side of the futon to allow him some room under the blanket. Kyo didn’t have to be told twice. He moved off the floor and onto the soft surface where he could be close to her.

“Turn over,” he whispered.

And she obliged. He cuddled up to her, acting as if he was the bigger spoon and rested his hands around her waist, pulling her in.

It felt so warm. So right.

As they were both drifting to sleep, he was certain he heard her whispering, “don’t tell Shigure.”

But maybe that had just been his imagination.