#tcfficlets

[thistle-01]

Greek mythology AU where as opposed to everyone else getting turned into trees because they angered gods or were pining for their unrequited love Cale Henituse turns into a tree by lying by the lake in front of his house and refusing to budge.

He enjoys the nice weather outside and decides to keep slacking like this - this is the life - and one day he looks up to see a leaf sprouting from his hand.

”Hm,” he says before he closes his eyes again.

There’s something nice about being a tree whose only obligation is to provide oxygen.

Cale breathes; Cale works.

By breathing.

Truly this is the best.

He doesn’t know why the nearby town’s children decide to climb his branches and make him little flower wreaths, especially not why that black-haired little boy with black eyes, a cloak and a wooden sword keeps hugging his trunk but whatever.

It’s probably not important.

The little boy is back again.

”You should just go back to where you came from!

”Monster-eyes!”

The other little boy with red hair and a self-satisfied look scampers off though not before the black-haired boy throws a fistful of dirt toward his head.

It lands accurately, hitting its target with a squelch.

The red haired little boy turns and looks murderous and Cale sighs internally. He isn’t heard - he isn’t audible. He is a tree.

Hooking a root around the little red haired boy’s middle and tossing him gently toward the direction of the nearby town is easy enough, and does the trick.

The red haired boy goes, shrieking up a fuss and loudly.

The black haired boy of course, turns to look at Cale the Tree and after a moment he hugs him again.

Cale sighs, again inaudibly.

“Tree-nim.

”Tree-nim, are you my friend?”

Cale reaches out a branch, dragging a nearby cloak which has gone tattered but it’s the only thing available over the little black-haired boy’s slumbering form.

“I’ll protect you, tree-nim.”

Cale decides to leave well enough alone.

Synopsis:

- Cale saving CH from the bullies in town, who bullies CH because his coloring is off, he’s the only child they know with black hair omg

- Cale saving CH and CH considering more and more that the tree is his only friend. His salvation.

- foreign lumberjacks getting hired to cut down Cale-Tree

- CH chasing lumberjacks away

- CH getting his head almost cut off in the process and Cale-Tree rearing his slacking head and chasing the lumberjacks away all the way to the next state over

- CH saying again, “I’ll protect you, tree-nim. I’ll keep you safe.”

- Hm, guess you’re useful to keep around after all

- Cale chasing away CH’s bullies

- Cale bridging the distance between town and CH

- Cale gifting CH with a magical scabbard formed from one of his branches and when CH pulls his sword from it after having stored it for thirty seconds it lights up with an otherworldly power and glows

- CH getting an amulet in the shape of a never-wilting leaf and which protects him

- CH finding bowls of fruit and leaves wherever he goes

- CH officially making Cale-Tree a treasure of the state and going on to become a hero, he’s got a protagonist’s fate, and it’s inevitable

- CH being drafted into war

- CH becoming the greatest hero the now peaceful kingdoms of the world have ever known

- CH, older and wiser and more world-weary than Cale-Tree has come to recognize, slipping back into the town that started it all, visiting Cale-Tree.

- CH pressing a palm to Cale-tree’s trunk like he did many years ago

- Cale slacking and not answering his call, just napping

- CH, unknowing of what’s happening in Cale’s mind, slipping down to kneel between Cale-tree’s roots and pressing his forehead to the bark like a prayer and just breathing how it’s over. He can rest now.

- “Thank you for everything, Tree-nim. Tree-nim… I wouldn’t have made it without you. Tree-nim -“

- CH slumping against the tree and Cale’s attention finally turning its head because excuse me? Sir are you dying? Sir you can’t die here who do you think you are, don’t bring me drama -

- CH closing his eyes and murmuring, “ - I have no regrets. Well…“ CH smiling to himself and looking rueful, “Maybe there’s one thing.

- “ - but I think it’s too late to find love, don’t you? I’ll try again in the next life.”

- CH jerking when he feels something moving

- CH whipping up his head and tensing in preparation of an attack, and CH’s eyes widening and his breaths freezing in his chest and his face twisting into confused suspicion as he sees a face that shouldn’t feel familiar somehow does

- “Are you going to sit there all day?” “Who-“ “Follow me.”

- “I’m not going anywhere with you.“ “I think you will? You’re hungry, aren’t you? Come - I’ll feed you.”

- Cale bringing CH to his old mansion which is now abandoned but has some preserved food lying around

- CH eating

- Cale sipping his tea daintily and CH looking at him with a dawning realization and after some unintentional - maybe some of it is intentional - flirting over the next several weeks the two finding love in each other and CH getting his wish of discovering what it’s supposed to feel like

- “Tree-nim,” “How long are you going to call me that?”

- I’ll protect you, CH thinks and secretly Cale also thinks that of CH too

The end

- “Can I turn back into a tree now your heroics seem contagious” “That’s all you, Cale-nim. That’s all you”

The end - but really

[thistle-01]

KRS as Cale Henituse + traveling back in time + having to do it all over again

except he goes farther than maybe the god of death was intending bc he blinks his eyes open and a little boy with red hair and brown eyes and a scowl on his face is standing over him

the boy says, “you’re sleeping on the road. Do you want to die? It’s worse because you look like me,” and drags him over to a very familiar mansion

KRS through og!child!Cale’s eyes fixing all of og!Cale’s crises and KRS internally despairing that he won’t see the family he knew again so og!Cale sees him drinking sometimes and sometimes withdrawing into himself but he doesn’t know why

og!Cale living thru KRS’ crazy stunts and self sacrificing bullshit and paling and squawking and trying to make him take better care of himself

og!Cale and KRS saving the world

og!Cale now tall and grown, nursing a drink and reflecting on how KRS looks so much like an older version of him, how similar they look to each other

“tell me,” he demands of KRS when he hunts him down one day and KRS is looking like him and has a book open on his lap because he gave up drinking after Cale threatened to follow in his footsteps and they both knew that Cale on the glass wouldn’t pan out very well.

KRS telling og!Cale after some hemming/hawing

Cale crying for him, crying angry hot tears of indignation and wrath for a loved one’s unfair circumstances and curling his fists into balls and resolving to kill a god

”so I’m…?” “Dead, I think.” “Good to know,” and cale just balling up that information and deciding to chuck it out the window because it’s not like it can happen again. They’ve changed too much for that.

og!Cale eventually figuring out a way for KRS to return to his time, his world, his place where he’s surrounded by people he loves and who loves him back in turn and hesitating before he can put the recipe for the spell/ritual/whatever to action and actually use it

og!Cale having a chat with KRS

”if you could go back what would you do?” “Anything,”

and KRS looking mildly wistful but bored and Cale knowing he’s hiding a lot of repressed nostalgia/sadness/heartache in that expression

og!cale following through

KRS leaving, literally packing all his stuff which isn’t much but he can’t forget the overflowing pocket dimension of riches and gifts his fans have given him over the years that’s a lot of money, and turning expectantly to Cale before he leaves and Cale’s like ?? *glare glare* “get the fuck out of here already,”

KRS looking at him like he‘s lost it and “you’re coming too,” and it’s not even a question? Like wtf?

and Cale looking at KRS and KRS looking at Cale and KRS blinking and cocking his head like he’s just realized, “unless you don’t want to.” And over the years they’ve both burned and built bridges, they’ve made alliances and made allies and they’ve cultivated a web of resources, even the counterparts of KRS’ family but they never really let anyone get super close because it just felt wrong. they weren’t meant to be here.

Well, KRS wasn’t meant to be here, he’s not from this time after all but for og!cale it is his world and it is his time so he could never truly figure out why it felt like he never fit, why his own family felt like a mile away sometimes

og!cale thinking of all the people he’s met, all the people he’s attached to only in the barest sense, like they’re velcro stitched by the flimsiest threads, one strong wind and they’d be separated, divided like fhey were never joined to begin with

og!Cale thinking of them, and thinking of KRS. Thinking of all the things they’ve been through and how far they’ve come

og!Cale taking KRS’s hand

them jumping through the warp/circle/spell/whatever

og!Cale meeting KRS’ family

og!Cale giving up his name to live as Cain Henituse, long lost cousin or distant relative or random doppelgänger who just happened upon KRS!Cale and decided to stick to him like a burr

Cale introducing Cain to the people in his life and them, after some surprise and confusion and “wtf who is this is he safe,” welcoming Cain into the fold

Cain feeling like he finally, finally belongs?!?

Cale still pulling the same self-sacrificing false-slacker bullshit he did in cain’s original world

Cain suffering but having others to suffer with him because here they all know what Cale is like “omg let me tell you about this one time-“

KRS!Cale never getting that slacker life

Cain finding happiness

Cale and Cain and everyone else settling down, finding peace, what passes for peace in Cale’s time and world and with Cale around anyway, and Cain and Cale growing old together

Cain coming to find Cale one day,

”hey, what are you doing sleeping on the floor, old man? You wanna die? It’s worse because we look like each other- but obviously I’m the better looking.”

And Cale laughs

the end

[thistle-01]

Just another CHCH idea // TW: passive death wish, aka suicidal ideation

Modern day AU where it wasn’t Harris village that was razed to the ground it was Choi Han’s entire family and because the fire was a freak accident, no one’s fault, CH falls deeper and deeper into himself, no outlet. He becomes severely depressed but can’t picture himself actively offing himself so he just trudges through each day, unable to die, unable to live.

He doesn’t care when the guy next door to his new place moves out.

Doesn't care when someone else moves in.

He does care when the muffled wails of a baby keep him from sleep for three nights in a row, and he bangs on the wall, sleep deprived and pissy.

After a moment the person on the other side of the wall bangs back, making Choi Han glare incredulously at the wall, but he decides to let it go.

New kid, new parent. He used to take care of his little cousins so he knows how difficult it can be. He remembers the colic, he remembers the spit ups and giggles and laughing as they sat around for dinne—

He realizes that the new guy moving in may affect him more than he initially realized.

Morning comes and goes and CH gets ready for work.

Before the fire he’d been planning to take up bodyguarding as an occupation, it seemed like it suited him, it felt right. Without the training which he couldn’t afford due to obvious reasons though no one would hire him, so he turned to gym training. He’s a personal trainer.

He fetches his bag and fetches his towels and he’s about to leave his apartment when there’s a ding on his intercom.

When he looks through the screen there’s a person who’s unfamiliar but he was gonna leave anyway so he just meets them at the door.

”What is it?”

The person looks surprised when he sees Choi Han standing there and CH knows it’s because he’s kind of tall and imposing.

He doesn’t do anything to make them more comfortable though, he’s on a timer, and the guy just stammers, makes him sign to receive a package which CH does bc again no time to argue that he hasn’t ordered anything.

It’s only at the gym that he finds a break to open the package, it’s addressed to him with his apartment number, no name. Inside he finds a fucking fruit basket and a note:

Should have written this earlier but I have a newborn. It may get loud. Apologies for the inconvenience.

TBC

- CH resigned to suffer through baby

- CH reliving his most painful memories again bc baby

- guy next door’s little gifts being about the only thing that keeps him from just upping and moving but some of the stuff he gets are damn nice and maybe sort of worth it? Maybe

- guy next door always attaching little notes to his gifts

- guy next door‘s notes sometimes being sarcastic and witty, and sometimes kind of rude but also funny

- CH replying to one and attaching it to guy next door’s door on a whim

- guy next door attaching a phone number to his next gift

- CH texting guy next door bc why not if he’s some kind of serial killer maybe he’ll—

- CH and guy next door exchanging texts

- texts starting off irregular, stilted, but eventually they increase without them even recognizing that they do because apparently they’re both lonely fucks who have no real friends but a lot on their chests

- guy next door still being guy next door, literally that’s the name attached to the contact in CH’s phone bc out of some silent agreement they still haven’t exchanged names

- CH telling guy next door about the fire

- guy next door telling CH about his family (they’re dead too, only his son left and even then he’s apparently adopted)

- CH having a bad day at work and seriously considering suicide. there had been multiple factors, but the worst was probably it being 5/5, children’s day and a bunch of families gathering in the park right in front of the gym. They looked happy. CH remembered being that happy.

- CH holding a knife in his hand and surrounded by alcohol but on a whim - he seems to have a lot of those - texting guy next door

- CH telling himself if guy next door doesn’t reply within the next twenty minutes it will be a sign but guy next door replying instantly

- CH calling guy

- “How’s your son?” “He’s fine?” “…remember to love him as much as possible.” “Is something wrong? You sound off,”

- CH gripping the knife in his hand

- CH letting go

- CH sobbing wetly into the phone with a call to the guy whose name he doesn’t even fucking know but somehow relying on him anyway. He doesn’t know how this happened. How did this happen?

- CH telling guy everything and after a loaded silence guy asking CH like he’s about to break, like he’s fragile, whether he wants to come over, in fact just do it I’ll be home soon

- CH numbly collecting himself and somehow dressing himself with minimal effort and opening the door to walk over to his place

- CH finding a man standing in front of the door next to his, who’s stunning through the tears in his eyes but he doesn’t care too much about that - does he? - because he feels so shitty

- guy, who’s apparently a slightly scarred but handsome enough to be a model type of guy, and despite CH expecting the same subtle pity and concern he’d heard over the phone, greeting him blandly and ordering CH to come in like he’s discussing a fucking history book

- guy being named KRS

- CH being named, well, CH

- CH marinating in his own depression after the shock of guy - no, KRS’s physical form has worn out

- KRS looking at him with an unidentifiable expression

- KRS appearing to think for a minute and then leaving the room and CH dimly hears him opening a door but he’s too spent to hear much more than that

- KRS returning and CH meaning to look up but before he can something warm and squirming and kind of squishy is plopped into his lap

- “this is the terror I told you about. Say hello Raon.”

- Raon being the cutest fucking baby CH has ever seen aside from his cousins and baby sibling

- Raon giggling and squealing with laughter and clutching CH like there isn’t a single good reason he shouldn’t trust CH when in about a second CH can list at least five

- CH being unable to do anything but curl his hands reflexively around warm baby because of said giggling and squealing and clutching

- CH mumbling his concern that baby is too open to strangers despite knowing that at this age it’s perfectly natural

- KRS replying that Raon is a better judge of character than him and wrapping something around CH’s shoulders before turning on a giant ass TV

- KRS and CH and a drooling happy Raon watching Disney movies

- CH unintentionally spending the night bc he fell asleep to Alice in wonderland songs and woke up smelling traditional Korean food and the tunes of soft jazz on a radio

- ”are you hungry?” and CH unable to pull away bc he’s still kind of fragile and tender feeling and the baby is thankfully gone now but nope he’s sitting in his high chair and there’s good food on a table and KRS is looking blandly at him with his good looks and invisible kindness and CH is only human

- CH leaving the next morning before KRS is awake but KRS pretending to sleep so he doesn‘t pressure him

- KRS thinking he’s really dodged a bullet, humans are so much work, he just wants to slack-

- CH going home and putting the knife still on the floor back into its shelf and cleaning his place top to bottom on a sudden urge to be productive

- KRS and CH going back to texts and an occasional phone call like before

- KRS and CH’s interactions being different from before though in that when Raon cries through the wall CH plays baby shark or soft jazz and baby’s cries turns to coos and KRS sends him another basket in the morning

- KRS and CH somehow seeing each other more often

- KRS and CH greeting each other on the elevator

- CH deciding to see a psychiatrist

- KRS driving him to his first appointment

- “have fun.” “this is supposed to be fun?” “For me it is, I finally get a break from you and your drama,” and CH seeing right through KRS and taking a chance and reaching over to squeeze KRS’s hand on the gear

- “thanks,” and KRS looking bland but with a twist of a smile as CH heads in and watching him go

- CH making progress

- CH taking antidepressants and settling down after a month and he doesn’t have relapses for a year and decides to finally put an end to the fragile push and pull he and KRS have been dancing around all this time

- CH inviting him over for dinner

- CH making all the preparations, smiling to himself at providing for KRS this time, excited kind of at the thought that he’s going to put That Smile on KRS’ face and the doorbell ringing

- CH saying hi and KRS looking at him with an unreadable expression for a second before there’s a warmth at his lips and then it’s gone

- “took you long enough,” and CH knows KRS doesn’t mean it bc he’s looking at him quietly and like he’s quietly proud and there’s a soft, reserved sort of affection lining his smile and CH just wants to hold him forever, never let go

- so he does

- over the years they have their ups and downs, with KRS’s own emotional baggage, and CH‘s depression, and Raon grows up and demands more siblings and they decide, yeah look it’s time to get hitched here’s the ring

- they live happily ever after

the end

[thistle-01]

the birth of a hero. a story of intrigue and romance. kim rok soo picked it up on a whim because all his usual fantasy novels had been rented out and gone.

a story of the protagonist getting duped by his one true love.

a tragedy where several side characters are killed off by his love interest who turns out to be a complete and utter psycho.

this was the story kim rok soo had been dropped into after going to bed at a decent hour.

"i think i'm concerned."

he thought he should be concerned... but it should be ok?

/

the man known as kim rok soo rolled in his bed, loving the comfortable soft sheets and the warmth of the sun on his head. he didn't want to get up - and vaguely he remembered it was the weekend. he had no obligations.

he didn't have to get up.

"young master, it's time to get up."

the voice that called from above was low and old but elegant. suddenly overcome by a chill sweeping up his spine, kim rok soo sat up, blinking his crusted eyes open.

"it's a pleasant surprise to see you get up with one attempt, young master."

"excuse me?"

"the master would like to have breakfast with the entire family. i see it will be possible today."

the man known as kim rok soo looked into the kind eyes of a well aged old man in a uniform, and he froze inwardly though on the outside he appeared calm, if a bit sleepy.

"master cale?"

"cale henituse?"

"that would be your name, young master. are you perhaps still a little woozy from the effects of your liquor last night?"

the man looked beyond the older gentleman who was smiling kindly to the large ornate mirror hanging above his left shoulder.

"fuck me."

/

the sounds of cutlery hitting plates rang through the dining room. a man dressed elegantly was sitting at the head of the table. to his left was a stoic women, a teenaged boy, and a younger girl.

"good morning, son."

"good morning."

it was as if the whole room took a breath but kim rok soo decided not to worry about it. he couldn't worry about little things. it would drive him crazy starting with the fact that he'd somehow been dropped into a cheesy romance novel.

"how is the meal to your tastes, cale?"

"it's fine. it's actually really good."

the teenaged boy who cale knew was basen henituse dropped his fork looking shocked.

"s-sorr-- excuse me, father."

"...it's alright. i'm glad we are here together and can appreciate this good food."

kim rok soo known now as cale nodded and polished his breakfast neatly.

"would you like a drink, son?"

"yes please, father. thank you."

the woman next to the suddenly tearful appearing man cleared her throat looking briefly surprised before reverting to a blank expression.

"how are the preparations coming, cale?"

"preparations?"

"for your school. unless you've changed your mind about attending."

she frowned but the faint concern in her eyes was as clear as day.

"i didn't change my mind. they're going well."

"good. I'm glad to hear that."

cale finished his meal quickly and said to the thoughtful room.

"father i have a request."

"of course, son. what will it be? wine? whiskey? hard liquor?"

the count henituse looked unsurprised and maybe a little relieved.

"i need money. lots of it."

"i'll have your butler bring you a check."

"thank you, father."

the room took a collective breath again but kim rok soo now known as cale only smiled into his plate and finished his food.

this would be fine after all.

/

[thistle-01]

It’s surprising how much he feels—not to mention how the intensity mildly terrifies him. How his heart thumps a little harder at the sight of Cale, how his stomach flutters under his ribs. How his breaths stutter and his mind reels—how he goes dizzy when Cale takes a step into the usual distance between them and curls a hand around the back of his neck.

Choi Han is wary—always so. He’s so careful not to intrude, not to take that first step for fear of opening a flood he won’t be able to corral, but Cale does it so easy. He smiles and Choi Han is home free.

It’s liberation.

Exultation.

There isn’t a second in Cale’s presence that Choi Han regrets, though nowadays, lying in bed at night, cold, alone, staring out at the quietly gleaming stars, he wonders if he’ll ever see the day where he’s true to himself. Will ever let these emotions rumbling up in the pit of his gut see the light.

The thought of popping open that lid is—

“Umami.”

“I’m sorry?” Choi Han asks.

“This soup,” Cale replies, coasting a spoon over the top of his dish. A red brow tips up. “It’s umami. A tour guide from Japan explained it to me, once. I’m fairly sure this is what he meant.”

“What’s his name?”

“Didn’t ask.”

It’s kind of pathetic how quickly that quells the twist of jealousy in Choi Han’s chest.

[thistle-01]

Sit, stand, sit

“Sit,” Choi Jung Soo does. “Stand.” Choi Jung Soo does that too.

“Sit,” Kim Rok Soo says again and Choi Jung Soo fucking does that too - will keep fucking doing it because he knows what he’s done.

It’s still annoying though. And really fucking chafes. But fine. Kim Rok Soo wanted a well trained dog? Choi Jung Soo would be the best damned dog on a leash he’s ever seen.

Kim Rok Soo finally, finally peels his dark eyes from the book in his lap and smirks.

“Good boy.”

...Choi Jung Soo hates how even after all this time Kim Rok Soo can make Choi Jung Soo’s stomach tingle. (And something else too, goddamn it.)

[thistle-01]

Abandoned werewolf pup Lock who imprints on hermit in the woods Cale Henituse

- weres are loners, they make packs for convenience but by nature are solitary and when lock comes of age in wolf years he’s left in the safest, thickest part of their forest with a satchel of food and orders not to follow

- lock does what he can, slips in and out of neighboring packs but he’s perceptive for his age, he can tell when he isn’t wanted and so he goes

- he fends for himself - finds water and berries, and hunts small game that he can tackle himself with low risk of injury

- at some point he becomes accustomed to a baseline of hunger, cold, and loneliness, but it’s fine. Everyone else does it too.

- lock isn’t human-aversive at first, he’s a cute pup, and can pass as a homeless dog. humans pet him and feed him scraps and greet him with a smile or friendly word whenever he goes down to the closest village.

- then he meets him

- lock doesn’t like to think about him. He remembers pain and remembers bad things, and he recalls he’s wanted his sires back before but never as strongly or as desperately as he had when he’d been with him

- after him lock meets her, and after her, well, humans don’t seem so nice after that

- they’re fine at a distance but get too close and he gets hurt

- he avoids them, he brushes them off or uses teeth if they get too cozy

- they call him feral, sends guns and hunters into his forest because they think he needs to cater to their idea of safe

- lock refuses and eventually they forget about him

- he stays in his forest, eats and grows, and he copes with the loneliness by skirting the edges of the neighboring packs or playing with his food

- he sometimes feels empty, deep inside where his stomach is and someplace behind his ribs, but it’s probably hunger. Hunger is all it is.

- several years later he doesn’t think much when there’s a commotion in his woods, in the part closest to the village but also pretty separated from it

- he needs to go check it, but the humans are there. There are several, and they’ve camped out there, down where the land is flat and trees provide shelter and is… is that a house?

- that won’t do. That won’t do at all. Humans have already taken so much from him, stolen from him when he’d only offered a part of himself, and there’s no way they’re taking this part of his life too. These are Lock’s woods. This is Lock’s home.

- that night lock scopes the humans and their house - his actually because these are his woods and therefore the house which is in said forest should also be his - and then the night after that he attacks

- …ok so he doesn’t actually attack, it seems kind of unfair given they haven’t hurt lock (yet) so mostly he runs his claws through the ropes keeping their horses tethered and bites holes into the boards they’ve set aside to build the house.

- they wake the next morning and shout and from his hiding spot in some of the bushes nearby lock nods in satisfaction

- they haven’t left

- lock steals their clothes and throws bugs into their water

- they still don’t leave

- tbc

[thistle-01]

Twenty five years ago two boys ran around the corner store, chasing each other’s tails and laughing. It’s been twenty five years. They’re different people now, with different paths and aspirations. Yet when they meet again they’re like magnets to a sword. Undeniable and just right.

”Do you know what the four leaf clover means?” the little red haired boy grins.

”Everyone knows it means luck,” pouts the black haired boy, kicking a shoe into the dust of the playground. “You aren’t making fun of me, are you? I’m not stupid.”

”Obviously,” insists the red haired boy. He pokes out a finger and snubs his friend’s nose. It makes the black haired boy go cross eyed, overbalancing as he leans back and nearly falling on his butt before his friend snatches his arm.

They nearly go tumbling, the both of them, the momentum spinning them in a circle and depositing them on the merry-go-round.

“Oof,” says the black haired boy, and his red headed friend laughs. “It’s not funny!”

The little red haired boy says, “Do you know what a three leaf clover means?” his eyes sparkle with mirth and unrepentant joy and the little black haired boy’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing briefly for some reason.

“Will you tell me?” the black haired boy asks shyly, ducking his head.

The red haired boy smiles at his friend, hooks his arm under his friend’s elbow and says, “The three leafed clover means—“

Beep beep beep.

“Ugh,” the man says, flopping back onto his twin sized mattress. It’s small for his height, his feet poking out over the foot of the bed, dangling out from under the scrunched up comforter which is more of a rag than anything at this point.

He pushes up an arm, draping it over his eyes. He thinks he’s dreamed of something. Something that leaves him warm and somewhat melancholy.

He doesn’t recall what, exactly, but it must have been good.

His dreams aren’t usually good, not even fine, really, so this is an unexpected gift. One that isn’t exactly welcome.

“…today’s gonna be a crappy day,” he sighs, and heaves to his feet.

The radio crackles on with a flick. “—on the station today, say hello, team!”

“Hi!”

“Hello, everybody!”

Through the speakers the high enthusiasm of a up and coming band bubbles out. They keep him company as he hastily makes his bed, showers.

He exits the bathroom with a towel around his neck, his feet struggling to fit his socks.

“—leave a message at the beep.”

Beep.

“Hey, dude. It’s been a hot minute. I know I said until this month is good but something’s come up. I’m gonna need the cash by Sunday. Do what you gotta do but I’ll see you on Sunday at noon, okay? Hope that’s fine. Bye.”

“—end of message. There are—one—messages in your inbox.”

Beep.

Shoving his arms through the sleeves of his button down, Choi Han drowns the sigh building in his chest before it can punch through. Another deal broken, another problem to handle, but it’s fine. He’s the one who had to ask for help.

“…the fuck was I thinking,” he scoffs, buttoning his shirt as quickly as possible.

His fridge protests as he throws open the door. He grabs the lunch he packed yesterday: some ham, two slices of bread. A celery stalk.

The door to the fridge needs to be slammed shut, if it isn’t it’ll pop back open while he’s gone, and then he’s out the front door, keys jingling as he works the lock and then speeds down the hall of his complex.

His apartment wasn’t built with an elevator.

On the first floor, he jogs for the bike rack and grabs his helmet. He swings his leg over the seat then kicks off. His bag jostles over his shoulder until he pulls his other arm through the empty strap.

“This is gonna be a good day,” he decides, swerving away from the car which merged without warning and rolling his eyes at the expletives thrown at him through the open window. He doesn’t fully believe what he said but hey, it’s worth trying anyway.

.

.

.

”—means happiness. Remember that, okay?”

Cale opens his eyes, recalling his dream in painful detail. It’s hard not to, having the same one over and over again for the past twenty odd years or so, but at least it isn’t every night.

He’s pretty sure the other kid said something in response to that, okay or sure or something to that end, but he can’t remember.

And it never features in his dreams so maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

“We used to be close,” he muses, rubbing the grit from his eyes.

“We still are!” a high pitched voice calls from the doorway, followed by an uncertain shuffle. “…aren’t we?”

Raon is still a bit unsure of himself, but as Cale recalls, the pediatric psychiatrist said he’s making incredible progress.

“I was talking about someone else,” Cale assures, getting to his feet and opening his arms so when the tiny black haired ten year old punts himself onto Cale’s body he hits his chest and not something sensitive.

Like his still healing femur. “How’s your leg, mister?” Raon asks, looking down curiously and with a fascinated expression at the cast that’s still half covered by the sheets. He squirms until he can wriggle his hand free then shoves up the sheets until he can clearly see the bold lettered name scribbled onto the green cast in childish handwriting.

It has a —has been here! :D tacked onto the end of it and Raon’s face lights up as it always does when he sees it.

He settles back into Cale’s arms and looks up, expectant.

“Still healing,” Cale replies, suppressing the snort before it can fully form and unintentionally hurt anyone’s feelings. “Have you woken the others?”

Raon begins to nod but before he can say anything a magnificent crash echoes from down the hall.

“Uh,” Raon says smartly.

“…let’s go,” Cale sighs, pushing up to his foot and then grabbing his crutch.

Raon kind of flitters nervously by his good side as they travel from his bed to door to down the

[thistle-01]

Choi Han’s life - a past life - as an athlete was over and done with. He’d wanted no part of it anymore, he’d wanted to leave. So he had, running far, far away from the mess that had taken his dreams and shattered them to pieces.

He didn’t expect to find much traveling down to tiny Harris village which was barely a blip on the map. But unexpectedly and pleasantly so - he did.

Especially in the form of Cale Henituse.

// soft farmer cale x ch slowburn that I wanted to read

The town he was dropped off in was small. Barely 2000 people. It was quiet, transient sounds like the engine of the departing bus and the summer breeze ruffling through his ears. It was peaceful. There was a slow lull that siphoned the tension from Choi Han’s neck.

Choi Han hitched the duffel bag he was holding higher up his shoulder. He glanced around, briefly, finding a pharmacy to his front and the bus station to his back. He pulled out his phone. He swiped up, summoning his text messaging app.

Are you sure it’s ok, he texted, adding, Your friend and his parents won’t change their minds?

His phone vibrated. The name Choi Jung Soo was stamped across the top of the app and a blue bubble shot up toward the bottom.

I told you it’s fine, it read. And isn’t it too late to ask that? Tell me you’re there by now.

I’m here, Choi Han drummed one-handedly. I should be seeing the pharmacy, right?

There’s only one bus stop in town so.

So yes? Choi Han asked, which his nephew confirmed with one of those newer emojis. It had a paper between its teeth and was pulling it with its hands with a frustrated expression. Good.

Yeah, Choi Jung Soo pinged back. The condo’s not far. Just follow the map I sent you. Do you need me to resend it?

Choi Han was still typing when the messaging pane dinged with an image attachment.

Nevermind I just resent it. Try not to get lost. If you do ask for directions.

There were several more items of advice that Choi Jung Soo sent, things like make sure you thank people who helped you, and look both ways before you cross! that made Choi Han draw his eyebrows down in vague offense.

I’m not a child, he sent finally. I’ll manage just fine. He shut off his phone after that, stuffing it into his pocket. He didn’t think it bore mentioning that he couldn’t operate a GPS; it was why he hadn’t bothered with a rental. Choi Jung Soo though, who knew Choi Han like he knew himself and if not better, apparently did. Choi Han checked his phone later in the evening to a stream of concerned looking emojis and more texts. But that was later.

Recalling the map Choi Jung Soo had drawn for him over a table last weekend, making sure to quiz him on it every 6 hours until yesterday, Choi Han made a right at the end of the block. It brought him down a paved road, curving slightly to accommodate the fields bordering it. It was a pleasant day. The skies were high and clear. There were birds chirping. The weeds whistled with the wind, completing the serene picture but left with nothing but the scenery to distract him from his thoughts, Choi Han inevitably found himself sinking into his own head. Unfortunately, his head was a place he wouldn’t want to invite anybody into.

Slowing down in his steps over the road, Choi Han hunched deeply. He felt his hands clench and his teeth ground down, and his nails dug into his skin, making him ache.

His phone rang.

It was a call from an unknown number. Choi Han picked up. “…hello.”

“You’re killing my potatoes,” a deep baritone said from the speakers. It also came from another direction. Choi Han looked up, surprised into nearly flinching back when he was met with a huge floppy hat and a long shovel supporting a slender body. “They’re sensitive to dark energy.”

Choi Han saw flower printed pants stretching down below the floppy hat. Choi Han saw boots. Choi Han saw brown and terribly dismissive two eyes staring at him, though they were maybe clouded by the fact that the man was wearing a pair of hot pink sunglasses. “I’m sorry?” Choi Han said faintly.

The man gazed back at him through his pink shades.

tbc

[thistle-01]

When the rain comes down in waves, dousing him to the bone, KRS recalls the day he drowned.

The day he drowned and a boy with a tail snatched him up and saved him.

The weather had actually been clear, the sun had beat down on his bare back. He’d been there with the orphanage, tens of kids running around, having a blast for once.

There were a dozen down by the river bank, pushed far from the mouth where the boulders lived. Further down were a set of rapids, the keeper of the cabins warned, and any child unsupervised were taking the risk of stupid risks and putting everyone’s summer vacation at jeopardy.

Nobody wanted to be the one to shoulder that blame.

Nobody had gone.

Kim Rok Soo hadn’t either - well. At least not at first.

”What are you doing?”

Three small children lifted their heads, looking like hyenas from their split lips to their beady eyes and cocked necks.

Kim Rok Soo looked down between them, seeing a squirrel with its guts filleted and rotting.

He met eyes with the children - the cautious children - and then he looked up and into the trees, making his eyes widen.

”Mr. Cabin man there’s a weirdo hurting animals-“ he shouted.

The children startled, eyes growing wide too. They shot him dirty looks, abandoning their sticks and running for it.

Kim Rok Soo looked down at the dead squirrel. He saw an ant pointing its antennae at it.

Looking around he didn’t see any tools so he gathered the sticks the children had left, holding one in each hand like drum sticks. The ends were moderately flat, and he could scoop dirt with them. He did so, pushing and combing and collecting soil so it sat in a loose pouch above the squirrel.

He planted a dried pinecone over the grave like a tombstone. For a funeral there wasn’t much to grieve - the circle of life went on and so on - but he hummed a little lullaby for it. Then he got to his feet and walked back.

He was

[thistle-01]

Title: Falling in love never came with a black box warning

Summary: Despite all appearances, Choi Jung Soo grew up on Disney princes and whirlwind stories. He expects love to be a staple in his life, and now that he’s finally confessed to Kim Rok Soo he expects his happy ending. To his annoyance it doesn’t quite happen that way.

Teaser:

“I like you.” Choi Jung Soo, unable to stomach the thumping of his pulse in his throat, looked down. “I really, really like you.”

And this may sound stupid, or juvenile, or possibly the most idiotic thing I thought I’d say to you in knowing each other for four years—

“Oh,” Kim Rok Soo furrows his brows. “I thought we were already dating.”

“…huh?”

“Come,” Kim Rok Soo says, tangling their hands together and leading. “Now that that’s settled you may buy us dinner.”

Kim Rok Soo doesn’t actually let him buy—despite the many, and increasingly crafty attempts to slip the waiter his card—but the night is young, his heart is full, and Choi Jung Soo can’t help but think this is the start of something truly wonderful.

/

“This is a goddamn nightmare,” Choi Jung Soo slams into the seat in front of Lee Soo Hyuk, wearing an expression that would scare a lion away.

He’s aware he’s grumpy, and perhaps petty, but seeing his own boyfriend on the day of his boyfriend’s birth shouldn’t feel like some quest Choi Jung Soo has to jump through hoops to crack.

“Have you called him?” Lee Soo Hyuk looks at him over the glasses that makes Kim Rok Soo secretly melt a little every time hit happens.

Choi Jung Soo should maybe take offense that his boyfriend’s such a simp for another man—except that it makes him go all fluttery inside too, when he sees it.

Meh,

“Called him, texted him, barged into his house with the intention of serving him breakfast on a fucking gorgeous platter—“ Choi Jung Soo sighs. “He left a note.”

“And?”

“‘Dear my heavenly gift from the stars—‘“ Choi Jung Soo begins, Lee Soo Hyuk looks at him with a skeptical smirk, “No, listen. ‘Dear my heavenly gift from the stars—I regret to inform you that my duties and totally unnecessary sense of responsibility will keep me from contact for the bulk of the day. My workplace is—utter shit—but I’ve conned the client into letting me off early. I think of you in every moment, your beauty knows no bounds—‘ It goes on and on,” Choi Jung Soo lies, resting his chin in his palm.

Lee Soo Hyuk chuckles. “So he’s a little busy.”

“He’s busy a lot,” Choi Jung Soo whines. “…I miss him.”

Like every other time Choi Jung Soo comes over to rant about the miracle that’s Kim Rok Soo agreeing to date him but also complain about Kim Rok Soo’s insane schedule, Lee Soo Hyuk listens indulgently and smiles.

“When are you meeting up with him?”

“Tonight. We’ve got a reservation at Roan.”

“Expensive,” Lee Soo Hyuk raises his brows.

“Worth it,” Choi Jung Soo counters, a helpless little smile curving his lips before they go flat. “As long as he doesn’t cancel on me.”

“He won’t,” Lee Soo Hyuk assures him. “Has he ever?”

“No,” Choi Jung Soo admits. The thought that he’s important to Rok Soo, that Rok Soo considers him special above all else makes him feel warm down to the core.

He sits up, “You’re right. I mean, of course you are. Who wouldn’t want to have dinner with me at the fanciest diner this side of the river on a romantic evening for a birthday present?”

“Now you’re pushing it,” Lee Soo Hyuk says dryly though he smirks. “Any other pressing concerns you need me to field before I finish this assignment?”

“Nope,” Choi Jung Soo grins, jumping up and pressing a wet one to a grimacing Lee Soo Hyuk’s temple, “You’re the best, thanks, bye!”

Choi Jung Soo leaves the book cafe with a light heart and high hopes that are dashed as soon as he returns to his apartment.

“—and I’m sorry sir but for that reason we have to cancel your reservation.”

Choi Jung Soo breathes in and out through his nose.

”Sir?

“Yeah I’m still here,” he says, rubbing his face with his palm. He drops his hand, looking accusingly at the ceiling. “You really can’t fit us in later on in the day? Or early?”

“…I’m so sorry but our slots are all full. If you’d like we can offer you another date at your convenience?”

“…Yeah, which dates do you have?”

Choi Jung Soo pens in an evening for the end of the year because they offered and he’s not about to say no to an opening at the bestselling diner this side of the river.

It’s just a pain that it couldn’t be a

[thistle-01]

The waves catch the summer’s sun, glinting as they rock over the lip of the shores.

Choi Jung Soo unloads the rest of the bags from the trunk, carriers and groceries and everyone else’s fucking shit. There’s a lot of it - which is why he complains - but the game was fair and results square, and he’d been delegated against his will and luck to unpacking their belongings into the condo.

His summer vacation wasn’t supposed to start like this. But at least it was -

“Vay-cation,” he grunts loudly, setting the last carrier which is Lee Seung Ah’s and weighs about a goddamn ton onto the pebbled ground. He closes the trunk, pats the side of the roof until the driver flashes him a thumbs up, rolling on out and to the parking lot operated by the valet.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he can’t help but laugh, looking around at himself where a small spring of things are pooled innocently. He fans himself, fisting his shirt and flapping away the heat. There are beads of sweating pearling up, and he whistles, finally, finally looking up to appreciate the view.

And what a view it is, he thinks, shielding his eyes with one calloused hand.

[thistle-01]

Jezebel

If ever the devil was born without a pair of horns It was you, Jezebel, it was you If ever an angel fell, Jezebel, it was you Jezebel, it was you

Song by Frankie Laine

The stone burnt white hot over the heat of the fire, roasting the person lying on it to a steaming crisp.

He screamed - long and hard and loudly into the night… but if there ever was a person to lend an ear to his agony it wasn’t here.

Not in this place.

Not in Devil’s Ire.

/

Hoisting his axe over his left shoulder, Choi Jung Soo heaved a sigh.

He took a breath, drawing stale air and blowing out smoke, and he pushed his hair out of his face, seeking his towel.

It was draped over a chair toward the front of the furnace and he walked there, blinking his stinging eyes.

One would think he’d get used to the aerosolized carbon dust - smoke - after twelve long years slaving away at the nest of it, but it still hurt. Biting just like it had back then.

He snatched back his fingers when an axe descended beside the towel.

”The hell?”

”You think you earned yourself a break? Croaker?”

That was what all the Keepers called the working class. One in three of them would “croak,” dead, before they hit their thirtieth year.

Choi Jung Soo smiled thinly. “Just a tiny one, chief.”

The axe lodged into the towel next. “Get back to work.”

Choi Jung Soo went, wondering if he hadn’t picked the harder way out compared to his dead contemporaries. Certainly his grave didn’t threaten to divest him of his wrists for a reasonable enough request.

Sundown came and went, the crows overhead clocking out for the stars’ dinner party.

Choi Jung Soo grunted as he hefted his ore he just mined, feeling every vertebra as it struggled to align until he threw it down in the cart.

He stretched his spine, feeling pops of joints as he dawdled.

“Time’s up!”

Leaning tiredly against the handle of the cart, Choi Jung Soo muttered his relief.

He followed the train of departing workers, among them a moderately tall fellow who waved at him and dug a punch into his arm, to the exit.

The chill of the air outside the furnace swept over his skin, killing the embers - or at least soothing them - which had gathered there through the course of the day.

He rubbed his neck, stretched his elbows and knees.

If he continued in this vein he’d have lung disease before thirty, arthritis by age forty-five.

Arguably that could be sooner - but his sires had always had a lucky streak, so he was betting on it kicking in for him too.

“No supper?”

Chasnik appeared mildly concerned when Choi Jung Soo bid him goodbye, turning toward the path that would bring him home.

“Not unless a magic crane suddenly deposits me a dime,” Choi Jung Soo said easily. He clapped his hand on Chasnik’s shoulder, pushing him away. “Go. Get fed. We have more work to do tomorrow.”

“Yes -“ Chasnik hooked a hand over Choi Jung Soo’s before he could pull it back. “- and as I recall we need calories in order to make that through. Come along.”

“I’m fine.”

“Come,” Chasnik insisted and Choi Jung Soo did, eventually, cave.

tbc

- Cale Henituse as one of the ruling class’ children

- Cale Henituse leading the rebellion against the corrupt king who secretly made a deal with the devil

- ^clandestine meetings, organized crime, Alberu Crossman as the pronounced “dead, murdered as an infant by a defected traitor” son of the corrupt king biding his time

- CJS joining the rebellion after a betrayal

- CJS spearheading the movement with sponsorship in the faceless form of KRS

- eventual romance, intrigue, political cutthroat

- aka 80K+ word long fic that I may never actually write but it lives in my head anyway ahahahaha ✌️