Celestial Brush

No Explanation

2009-12-18T06:01:49Z

Title: No Explanation
Fandom: L'Arc~en~Ciel
Characters: Hyde/Megumi
Prompt: #23 - Lovers
Word Count: 284
Rating: G
Summary: Can’t do bad anymore. Won’t do bad anymore. Won’t be sad.
Author's Notes: I'm not really jiving on this one, but I feel like it's done despite it being so ridiculously short. So, I'll go with that gut instinct. ~~As per usual, I am a wordsmith with this titles of mine.~~ Anyways, it's not a horrible start into trying to get myself back into the habit of writing, I don't think. Hopefully there will be better along the road and/or I come back to this with other fics to expand on it.

No Explanation
They parted, lying in the tangled mass of blankets, to regain control of their senses that had been muted by the throes of passion. He was the first to reach out in the darkness, moving his hand to hers. With light touches, Hyde tickled the palm of Megumi’s hand before entwining their fingers and placing a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. A small smile formed on both of their lips as she turned her head to her husband. She giggled softly as his smiled widened.

“What are you grinning about?” Megumi asked quietly.

“It’s a secret.”

“Ne…” Megumi shifted to lie on her side without releasing his hand. “I was good to you…” She leaned in, placing a few kisses down his neck. “You’re not allowed to have secrets.”

“But I don’t want to share this with anyone,” he pouted, tilting her chin back up for a kiss. Megumi moved their hands, wrapping his arm around her before wrapping her own around his middle.

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” Hyde coaxed her to rest her head on his chest, running his fingertips in small circles on her shoulder. No more words were spoken as Megumi nestled in closer, sharing the warmth of their bodies until both fell into a peaceful sleep.

Simplicity. Some might call it clichéd, perhaps even boring but for them it was perfection. Bells and whistles of previous relationships didn’t seem necessary, even when the relationship was fresh and new. Once the stammers began to flow into sentences and stolen glances turned into shared smiles, everything fell so naturally into place. She already knew most of his secrets, but this one in particular needed absolutely no explanation.

Bad

2009-11-09T16:53:34Z

Title: Bad
Fandom: L'Arc~en~Ciel
Characters: Hyde/Megumi
Prompt: #30 - Death
Word Count: 1,290
Rating: PG-13 - slightly disturbing
Summary: Can’t do bad anymore. Won’t do bad anymore. Won’t be sad.
Author's Notes: Insane characters are so easy to write. I love them.

Bad
Headache. It’s so pounding and constant. I can massage my temples as much as I want, but it’ll never let up. Haven’t been able to get rid of it since I got here. They put me in here because I did something bad. Really bad. Now they’re trying to make me pay for it. My life for hers. Because I did it. The headache is getting worse. Always does when I try to picture her. She was a beautiful, good woman. I don’t know why I did it. No, I do. I do know.

I had taken some time off work, to spend with her and because the others urged me. I knew they were talking about me. But when I asked about it, they lied. They always lied. The staring was too much. The music was just getting too damn loud. But she’d always go out. After a while, I stopped trying to make love to her. She wasn’t interested in it anymore. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older. I told her my hair has been coming out in clumps lately. I think there’s a bald spot. I can feel it if I put my hand on the side of my head. Weird spot for it to start, but it is. She says my hair is fine. I know she’s lying though. She’s just like the others. She can’t stand to look at me. She’d ask me to come to bed. I just wanted to smoke and watch TV. I have to watch the TV in case they talk about me. Do other people think I’m getting old? They say I’m looking horrible lately. Can’t sing. Can’t write music. Can’t focus. The talking’s too loud. The headaches didn’t come just yet though. I stopped needing sleep. Barely wanted to leave the house to get more cigarettes. Those helped a little. My son started school recently. I wonder if they’re teaching him about me. They’re always talking about me. Always. She said she was worried about me.

I didn’t mean to hurt her. I know, I know I did! Jesus Christ, shut up. I couldn’t put them through this anymore. For me to die, it would have been too easy. They would just suffer more. That’s when I was talking to her. I told her things would be better if she could just sleep. I could go through this on my own. But I had to release her. So, I did it. I hurt her more than I had in the past. I told her it would be over soon. That’s what I always see before it comes back to me. Confusion. She was just as lost as me. I wonder if she knew they were talking about me, too. She probably didn’t know why they were talking about me so much though. She didn’t understand I was their project even before the wires put through my head. Can’t stand listening to myself anymore.

They put the wires in my head after I did it. I had to pay for what I did to her. She broke like a ragdoll. Picture perfect. Blood everywhere. Megumi. She had whimpered only once. Shaking. I was shaking, too. Maybe she did understand. Maybe she just hid her fear better than I did. But if she was in this hell, too, I had to release her. That was the best way. It was the only way. I had to hurt her. Now wires are in my head. They try to feed me pills. Are they trying to kill me? I don’t know. I hear them whispering. They have plans for me. Plans. Plans. Always with the plans. I’m tired of being this puppet for their conspiracies. They won’t even let me outside to smoke anymore. They say I don’t deserve it. They say I deserve what I did to her. She’s better now. I want to be better, too. But I did bad. They said it was a bad thing. I let her go, but she’s still here.

God. Again. The headache. It gets worse. Something’s touching me. It’s a pretty day outside. I can feel the warmth of the sun. It burns like fire. It feels sticky on my back. What is that? I don’t want to look. They say I have to look. I hear my name. What? I just want to sleep. Or smoke. I want a fucking cigarette. But those bastards won’t let me. Don’t deserve it. Deserve it. Tired of jumping through hoops like a trained ferret. It’s sticky. What the hell is on me? It’s a hand. Soft, feminine, the way I remember it.

“Oh God,” I groan. I always get a sense of dread when she visits me. I want her back. But it’s a bad place here. Bad, bad, bad. I’m bad. Sad? Mad? Bad? Maybe. Sadly mad. Madly bad. Badly sad. Bad. It’s bad. I have to hold my head. It feels like it weighs a ton. Ever since those damn wires got put in. Sticky. My name again. Hyde. Bad. That’s why. Bad Hyde. She wants me to look at her. I don’t want to. She doesn’t want to look at me. She probably isn’t. She never does. I want to look at her. But the headache is so bad now. Fuck it. Nothing I haven’t seen before. I have to look at her. It hurts. Blood. All down her face. Her cheeks, puffed. Nose looks funny with all that purple. Bad funny purple. She’s looking at me. Glass eyes. Fake. It’s not real. Not real. She can’t still be here. But she is. She’s touching me. No. Not anymore. There’s something else on me. God, it’s the blood again. Had to scrub so hard to get it off. It’s hard to get that much off. It was everywhere. Now it’s on me again. Sticky. Burning.

I can’t get it off again. No matter how hard I rub. It just won’t erase. It’s on my hands now. Again. My eyes sting. Is it raining again? I hate the rain. It always stings. Have to get out of the rain. I stand up and move away from her. She brings rain with her all the time. Every time. I let you go, dammit! Why won’t you go? They’re getting louder. Yelling at me to face it. Face what I did. But I can’t. I won’t. No. They get louder as I do. I try to huddle away from them. They won’t stop. My head’s so heavy. The pain’s so bad. I hear a step closer to me. No. No more bad.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” I’ll say it until they break me the way I broke her. Can’t do bad anymore. Won’t do bad anymore. Won’t be sad.

Megumi retracted her step. Orderlies quickly rushed into the room as her husband’s shouts got louder and louder. He had refused his meds again. He still had another day or two before they began simply injecting him to treat him. They approached him cautiously, trying to say his name and bring him out of his hallucination. But he was already too far gone again. Almost as soon as they were in reach, Hyde began kicking, punching, and screaming. Megumi covered her mouth and turned her gaze from him. Once they were able, they injected him with a sedative and slowly, his screams quieted down into grunts.

“Bad…bad…I did bad…” he murmured, his eyes beginning to droop. Hyde was carefully hoisted back onto his bed where he lazily rolled onto his side. His eyes glazing over as he watched Megumi. A few tears rolled down her cheeks as he slipped into unconsciousness.

…Not again, not again.

Promise

2009-10-14T15:00:52Z

Title: Promise
Fandom: L'Arc~en~Ciel
Characters: Hyde/Megumi Oishi
Prompt: #28 - Children
Word Count: 606
Rating: G
Summary: Hyde says goodnight to his son from overseas.
Author's Notes: Sorry for the silence guys! Just haven't had many plots formulating, but I'm feeling really inspired lately, so who knows what this will procure?

Promise
“I think there’s someone here who wants to talk to you,” Megumi smiled as she sat on the edge of her son’s bed. Impatient, tiny hands grabbed at the air, although he restrained himself to keep in bed. He had been slightly bouncing ever since he heard the shrill ring of the phone echo throughout the house.

“Sou da ne?” Hyde smiled. He was sitting on the other side of the world on a hotel bed. He always had a hard time adjusting to the time zone difference. But regardless, he had a promise to uphold. He was awake at 6:00am his time to wish his son a good night. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Be safe.” Megumi smiled and passed the phone to their son. Placing a kiss on top of his head, she whispered, “Papa’s tired, so don’t talk too long, okay? I’ll be back in after I’m done cleaning up downstairs.” The small boy nodded his head in agreement.

“Papa!” he hollered into the phone. Hyde had held the phone away from his ear in anticipation of the enthusiastic greeting. He brought the phone back to his ear just in time to hear the important part of the question. “…see anything cool?”

“Not yet,” Hyde shook his head, rubbing one of his eyes. “We’re supposed to go look at a few things later today before our concert. I’ll be sure to take plenty of pictures for you and tell you all about it when I get home.”

“Did you meet any Americans?” Hyde chuckled.

“Un, they’ve been very patient with your Papa,” Hyde sat up a little. His English was still very rough around the edges, but with a little guesswork and pantomime, things worked out. “But what about you? What did you do today?”

“Weeeeell,” his son giggled. “Mama took me to the park today and we had a picnic!”

“Really? So the weather was good?”

“Un! Mama made us a really yummy lunch. You would have loved it, Papa,” he giggled. “Although you wouldn’t have liked the ducks.”

“Were they trying to steal your food?” Hyde reached over to the nightstand and slipped out a cigar, prepping it before lighting.

“…Sorta.” Sitting up some, the small boy peeked to make sure his mother wasn’t approaching. “When Mama wasn’t looking, I’d toss them pieces of food,” he whispered. “Don’t tell her though, okay?” Hyde laughed, promising not to tattle. “After we ate, Mama let me play on the playground and I saw Emi-chan from school.”

“Oh?” Hyde couldn’t hold back the grin. It had become very apparent Emiko was his son’s first childhood crush. Although when accused of this, the boy quickly stammered out a general repulsion to girls (“except Mama”) with his cheeks quickly turning a deep shade of red. “Did you two play together?”

“We played on the seesaw and monkey bars. I wanted to play in the sandbox, but she didn’t wanna get her dress all dirty and she said she wanted to play on the slides though. I said those were boring and for babies. She got mad and ran off to the swings,” he sighed with annoyance in his voice. “Girls are so lame, Papa. They always wanna do dumb stuff.”

“Ah, but Emi-chan isn’t that bad for a girl, ne?”

“Not…too bad,” he worded it carefully. “But she’s still a girl.” Megumi approached the doorway again and he sighed. “Papa, Mama’s back. I have to go.”

“Alright, have fun tomorrow, okay?”

“Un.”

“And take good care of Mama for me while I’m away?”

“Hai!”

“Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Papa.”

Game Over

2009-07-27T20:17:57Z

Title: Game Over
Fandom/Original: Hyde, um...other? idk
Pairing(s): Hyde/Megumi
Rating: G
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction
Summary: No visitors, no text messages, and definitely no phone calls. Any of those disruptions would throw off his game and break the mood. Those who transgressed those rules were always met with great displeasure and a bad mood.
Notes
As suggested by yukimeru, I went on ahead and did "Jealous" next.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Game Over
Every relationship has its hitches. Sometimes a pet is disobedient thoroughly and it takes months to iron it out. Other times, a best friend ignores everyone else but their current partner only to wind up hurt and relying on the very people they ignored. In this case, it was a battle of love between a man, woman, and video game.

For the past hour and a half, Hyde vaguely heard his cell phone beside him vibrating roughly against the hardwood floor for a total of five times. The interval between each call was getting smaller and smaller and quite frankly, was annoying the ever-loving hell out of him. Everybody knew that when a Biohazard game dropped, he was not to be disturbed. No visitors, no text messages, and definitely no phone calls. Any of those disruptions would throw off his game and break the mood. Those who transgressed those rules were always met with great displeasure and a bad mood. It was by the sixth call that finally, Hyde’s concentration was finally completely broken as he died at the hands of a boss. It was illogical. Everyone knew that he’d contact them when he was finally done.

With a frustrated sigh, Hyde replaced his controller with his phone. Flipping it open without taking a second to even see who was offensively calling him so many times, he snapped, “What?” The other end of the line was silent for a moment, almost taken aback with the way he had answered the phone.

“You promised we could go out tonight.”

His stomach instantly dropped when he recognized the soft voice to be his girlfriend’s. Glancing at the clock, on the wall, it was very clearly 8:54 and it hit him just then. He had promised to go to dinner with Megumi at 7:00, but had been so absorbed in his game it slipped his mind. His inward thought echoed in his voice.

“Shit, Megu-chan, I’m sorry, I—“ Megumi cut him off.

“I let you play that stupid game because it came out the same day and said it was okay to have our dinner tonight instead,” she berated. It had been a year since their first date together, unfortunately falling on the same day as the game’s release. Megumi was booked with unmovable business that day and so the pair had agreed to postpone their dinner for a few days later when they could both be relaxed and enjoy the evening. That was one thing they liked about each other, understanding and flexibility. “You said even if you weren’t done with it, you would still come out.”

“Well, I can come over there now,” Hyde rose to his feet. “If you just give me twenty minutes to get there.”

“Don't bother. I’m already home.” It was the first time Hyde had ever really heard Megumi sound angry. Even when annoyed with him, her tone was always even. But right now it was terse, angry, and hurt.

“Megu-chan, I’m really sorry. I was playing the game and lost track of time,” he replied, plopping down on his couch. “I don’t know what much else you want me to say.”

“I don’t want you to say anything. I wanted you to put the controller down and come to dinner with me like you promised.” She went quiet for a moment. “Tonight was supposed to be special.”

“I know, I know…what about tomorrow night?” Hyde knew that he could patch things up with a romantic dinner and all his attention focused solely on her.

“I really…if I have to compete for your attention with a video game, how am I supposed to with other things?”

“Oh c’mon, that’s just ridiculous,” he sighed. Megumi knew it was entirely irrational. She didn’t honestly expect him to drop everything whenever she called, waiting on her hand and foot. But he had made a promise. “You don’t really think this means anything, do you? It’s just a video game.”

“I know that. But do you?”

“Of course I do,” Hyde attempted to reason with her. “It was an accident, I swear. I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”

She sighed, staying silent for a moment. He said nothing, entirely unsure of what he could say to make anything better. “I’ll…I’ll just call you later.”

“Megu—“ Click. He slowly pulled the phone away from his ear, closing it. Looking to the screen where the bloody red letters “Game Over” still hovered over a black background asking him if he wanted to continue, Hyde made a face and shut the TV and game system off. “Don’t have to rub it in…” he muttered.

Pillow Talk

2009-07-26T18:11:20Z

Title: Pillow Talk
Fandom/Original: Hyde, um...other? idk
Pairing(s): Hyde/Megumi
Rating: G
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction
Summary: Hyde half-sighed and half-whined something that somewhat sounded like her name, burying his face into his pillow. Whatever next he mumbled into the pillow was unintelligible. Megumi ignored it and knelt beside the bed again.
Notes
Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Pillow Talk
It had been a peaceful morning. Hyde had been up late working and running his latest inspiration into the ground before crawling into bed just before the sun broke the horizon. After he had fallen asleep beside her, Megumi slipped out from his hold and started her day. It was routine as usual with the alarm sounding off at noon right on cue. Down the hall, the consistent beeping had been shrieking from their alarm clock for the last ten minutes as Megumi tidied up the house. She had been hoping that her husband would at least work up the energy to swat at the snooze button like usual. But it was futile. She was going to have to coerce Hyde from bed one way or another.

Setting aside her rag, Megumi headed down the hall to the bedroom. She opened the door to their bedroom to find him sprawled across the futon, the blankets haphazardly covering him. He had made an attempt to silence the alarm; one of his arms was extending towards the alarm clock, falling just short of it. But he had succumbed to sleep and was already lightly snoring again. Kneeling down, Megumi shut the alarm off. The snoring ceased, but he did not stir. If he was awake yet or not, she couldn’t quite tell.

“You leave me no choice,” Megumi sighed, kissing his cheek. Hyde stirred, but only burrowed further into the blankets. She crossed the room to the window. Through the curtains, she could feel the heat of the early afternoon sun. Even if this didn’t wake him, it would at least provoke a little more life out of her husband. In one swift motion, she pulled open the curtains to unleash the sun upon the lazy vocalist behind her. Hyde groaned as the light hit his face and forced his eyes to open. Unfocused eyes eventually found their way to Megumi, who was watching him with a smile.

Hyde half-sighed and half-whined something that somewhat sounded like her name, burying his face into his pillow. Whatever next he mumbled into the pillow was unintelligible. Megumi ignored it and knelt beside the bed again.

“You need to get out of bed and shower, Stinky,” she teased. Hyde shifted in the bed to look at her, but still made no response. “Or do you want me to drag you to the store like this?” She extended a hand down to one of his ankles, which Hyde promptly withdrew out of her reach with a grunt. “C’mon,” she pouted a little. “I’ll make you a big breakfast if you get out of bed now.”

“You’ll do that anyways, “ Hyde sighed, rolling over onto his back and rubbing one of his eyes.

“Who says?” She jabbed him lightly in the side, causing him to jolt.

“I do.” He rolled back over onto his side, pulling her into the bed with him. She giggled as he placed a chaste kiss on her neck. “But you can make it later. Sleep now,” he continued while closing his eyes again. Megumi held onto the arm wrapped around her middle for a moment, almost humoring the idea of sleeping some more. She glanced over her shoulder and could tell Hyde was nearly asleep again. He had been working later and later each night, trying to make deadlines all the while preparing to leave for a few weeks to promote again before leaving for an even longer time for a tour.

Carefully, she moved his arm and got back out of the bed to close the curtains. Before leaving the room, she fixed the blankets and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

He was already gone again.

Dirty Dishes

2009-07-25T04:00:27Z

Title: Dirty Dishes
Fandom/Original: Hyde, um...other? idk
Pairing(s): Hyde/Megumi
Rating: G
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction
Summary: “Your Papa’s a little absentminded.”
Notes
Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Dirty Dishes
“No, no, leave that,” he kissed her cheek quickly as he walked behind her, placing his used plate in the sink. He had just finished breakfast despite it being close to two in the afternoon. “I can get that when I get back.” He was running late after he “volunteered” to set the futon he shared with his wife out on the balcony to air out and do the laundry before heading out. Really, the tougher part of the job was getting his six-month pregnant wife to sit and let him deal with some of the household chores. But even then, by the time Hyde came back inside, she had already prepared him a breakfast.

Megumi shook her head with a smile as Hyde downed the rest of his orange juice. “I don’t think dish soap is all that lethal,” she replied as he set the glass in the sink.

“You do too much around here. I made sure the meeting won’t run past five, so I promise I’ll do them when I get home.” He placed a hand on her hip and moved around behind her to quickly gather up his paperwork about the house. Megumi sighed, placing a hand on her swollen tummy, stepping into the doorway of the kitchen to watch her husband upturn every piece of furniture in the house to locate all the things he needed for the day.

“Your Papa’s a little absentminded,” she spoke quietly to the baby. “But he takes good care of Mama, so he’ll take great care of you.” Megumi turned her gaze back up to her husband who was beginning to give up.

“I don’t get it…” he pouted as he stood up after lifting up all the sofa cushions in the living room. “Where would I have—“

“By the piano.” Hyde snapped his fingers and pointed to her before quickly running down the hall. She could hear some shuffling in the other room and giggled to herself and the baby, “You have to be very patient with Papa, but he’ll always try very hard to make sure you can continue to smile.” Before too long, he came back down the hall and over to the genkan. Quietly, Megumi picked something up off the counter and crossed the room to Hyde, who was already patting his pockets over for his keys.

“Megu-chan, have you seen my—“ he stopped short as he saw his keys hanging off her index finger. Taking the keys and holding her hands, Hyde placed a kiss on her lips. “What would I do without you?” Bending down, he placed a kiss on her stomach and gave it a gentle rub. “Watch out for Mama while I’m away, alright? Don’t kick too hard, especially if she needs to rest.” He stood back upright.

“Be careful out there,” Megumi smiled, kissing her husband tenderly. They shared tender whispers of love and stole as many kisses before time was too impatient to allow for any more. Hyde gently brushed some of her hair behind her ear, giving her one last kiss.

“Those dishes better still be there when I get back.”

clover_brush @ 2009-06-16T00:36:00

2009-06-16T05:00:44Z

Title: Prologue
Fandom/Original: Original
Pairing(s): N/A
Rating: G
Warning(s): None
Summary: Three groups of people occupy a continent known as Bray. There are the innovative Belenus, the expansive Angra, and the spiritual Peddan. In an attempt to support their people, the Angra have invaded Peddan lands and have begun destroying their forest.
Notes
This was an idea that a friend of mine and I thought up for a RPG a few years ago. However, she quickly was removed from the internet for over a year (again) and well - the RPG never really got off the ground. So, rather than let the idea go to complete waste, I've decided that maybe I'll write some stuff for it. It may not be sequential in my writing of it, but we'll see. I just hate to see this go to waste. (Oh and don't worry, I asked her about it and she said it would be cool to write it. She did do her fair share of thinking up names and such!)

I should note that this is not complete. I'm just out of steam for writing and need a little time to think on where to go next. I'm just too excited about this to keep it to myself. So yeah. Please tell me how I've done so far so I can have an even spiffier version up later. ♥

Shadows of mountains pulled the Danjo forest into darkness faster than it had done the day before. A once mighty forest, the day laborers who finally had gone to rest for the night were slowly tearing it apart to what ends not even they understood. In its glory days, the woods had extended thousands of miles from the northern shore of the continent to the start of the desert in the south. Nestled deep within, Ymuhey stood in plain sight. Homes, shops, temples, and schools had been built inside the trunks of the trees as well as a network of bridges between treetops. It was here the Peddan lived with daemons, creatures spiritually linked to an individual to guide each Peddan throughout life and its many questions. Together, they watched over the forest and its other inhabitants until another people had finally made their way deep enough into the woods to stumble upon this seemingly mythical city. These newcomers were called Angra.

The Angra capital of Bynycedia in recent decades had swelled with a booming population. Farmers and settlers that had begun to occupy the Kupe Grasslands were steadily unable to sustain their society. The frozen desert to the south offered no aide, driving the Angra to turn west. After much debate, it was deemed necessary to explore the vastness of the woods and begin clearing it for farmland immediately. They had not expected to find a single soul amongst the trees and animals.

The Peddan had been welcoming and respectful and all too trusting. They did not know of their guests’ aggression and need for expansion. By the time the peaceful civilization made the decision to fight back, it was too late. Ymuhey fell to ruins and the Peddan were scattered. Few survived and even fewer escaped to freedom on Lytha, an island a few miles off the eastern shore of the mainland. The forest did not fare much better. Under these captors, the forest spans only a few hundreds of miles, receding from the coastline back to the Jelani River. But it did not suffer silently. For nearly a century, the broken people of the woods had stood by watching the destruction of their homelands in a daze. Some prayed to the Great Mother and Father for help, or at the least guidance, while others merely spent their days waiting for the death rattle. Regardless, every Peddan could feel it in their heart: the brink of destruction or salvation for their whole existence was culminating.

But for now, a supper cooked over an open flame on the shore of Lytha was boiling over.

Five More Minutes

2009-04-21T15:31:46Z

Title: Five More Minutes
Fandom/Original: SID
Pairing(s): Mao/Aki
Rating: PG
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction, implicating homosexuality
Summary: A small reprieve from the facade, the early morning hours are theirs and theirs alone.
Notes
Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Five More Minutes
It was hanging by a thread, purely at the mercy of the winds that surrounded it. Nobody could know; nobody needed to know. They played their parts well enough to preserve that peace amongst their friends and family. But times like these, they were selfish. The facades came tumbling down and none of what anybody thought about it mattered in those early morning hours. The only things that counted were the gentle, bittersweet reminders that the sunrise of the next day was fast approaching.

A hand found its way out from underneath the sheets, barely managing to remove a cell phone from the nearby stand. Flipping it open, the owner sighed. He had to leave. The vocalist brushed bleached bangs from the other’s face. He was lost from the world in total tranquility.

“Aki…” he murmured, gently nudging him. The bassist was difficult to rouse and only responded with a small whine and firmer hold around Mao’s waist. Mao laughed softly, moving his hand down to hold the small of Aki’s back. Placing a kiss atop Aki’s head, he continued, “It’s almost 4:30. I have to leave…”

“Nn,” Aki gave a grunt of disagreement. “Stay. Just five more minutes,” he added with a nuzzle. It did little to convince to linger a little longer as Mao shook his head in response.

“Five minutes will lead to ten, which will lead to fifteen, then twenty, and thi—”

“Will not,” Aki interrupted, sitting up a little to plant a kiss on his lover’s lips. “C’mon, please?” He stuck his bottom lip out in pout, watching the other for a moment in complete silence.

“That doesn’t really work, you know,” Mao stared back, his expression unchanging. Aki didn’t respond, maintaining the same look. Mao rolled his eyes with a sigh, playfully pushing Aki’s head back down on his chest. “Five more minutes and that’s all you get,” he replied to Aki’s snickering.

You'll Come Running

2009-01-16T15:29:42Z

Title: You'll Come Running
Fandom/Original: SID
Pairing(s): Mao/Aki or none
Rating: G
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction, potentially implicating homosexuality
Summary: No matter what happens, he'll always be there when he's needed.
Notes
I had actually intended for this to be much longer and had intended to flesh it out more. But unfortunately, I just hit a block and nothing else wanted to come out. So rather than force out an ending, I'm leaving it in ambiguity. It's up to you what happens after it ends.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

You'll Come Running
Thunder rolled over the condensed metropolis, just moments after a bright flash of light. An impatient sigh succeeded the sky’s rumbling as the vocalist rolled over to face the wall this time. It had been a lousy day off after a few weeks of touring. The humidity had been oppressive to where he hid inside, uselessly sitting in front of an electric fan feeling that any movement beyond breathing might cause him to pass out from heat exhaustion. But of course, as the heat of the day finally lessened and it seemed decent enough to venture outside his apartment, the vocalist found himself stuck inside yet again from a fierce thunderstorm.

“Sleep, just go to sleep,” he mumbled under his breath. He had been trying this for hours now. But the mantra held no sway and his mind simply would not cease its chattering. After staring at the wall became boring to him, he tried staring at the back of his eyelids again. Then when that could no longer entertain him, he glanced at his clock. Digital and red numbers informed him that it was nearly 3:30 in the morning; exactly six hours since he gave up hope of ever escaping the house.

He lay there, reflecting on his day, and slowly felt himself checkout. Although his mind continued on with its late-night exercises, he no longer had any real idea what he was thinking about or that he was even awake. All he was aware of the sound of the rain rushing from the sky and pelting his only window. Just as his eyes began to glaze over, his tranquility was disrupted by a high-pitched tone harmonizing with a lower tone. Shaking his head, the vocalist groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. He had high hopes that if perhaps he stayed here long enough, he would slip back into wherever it was that he had wandered. But the doorbell repeated itself, only this time it was not so polite. Frantically, one chime after another, the chime eventually coerced him from his bed.

Crossing the room, he lifted the phone from its cradle with a murmured greeting that was forgotten halfway through. He heard nothing aside from the rain and leaned against the wall. Rubbing his face to remove the exhaustion, he spoke louder this time.

“May I come in?” the voice was small, nearly swallowed up in the storm’s loud voice.

“Un,” he grunted, not needing to ask who it was rudely interrupting his tossing and turning. He had become quite accustomed to his bandmates and their peculiar sleeping patterns, often ending in surprise late night visits. This time, it was the bassist. Setting the phone back in its cradle, Mao stepped down into his small genkan to fumble with the locks for a few moments before opening the door.

Naturally, he first noticed the cold raindrops that came rushing inside with aid from the wind. But his shiver was a half-hearted attempt as the sight before him took precedence to the change in temperature. The bassist’s clothing clung to his thin frame, making his trembling appear more violent than what it actually was. His hair was disheveled, clumped together and pulled down by the weight of the raindrops that he had allowed to accumulate for at least an hour or more by the restless man’s judgment. But what stood out most to the vocalist was the other man’s face. His soft brown eyes were hidden beneath messy bangs, but he could sense their gaze was glued to the ground. And down his cheeks were remnants of an expression. His lower lip disappeared as he uncomfortably shifted his position as though afraid to speak. It was in that moment, the vocalist knew just what kind of visit this was.

I can't stand how much I need you.

2008-12-20T19:23:47Z

Title: Jobs
Fandom/Original: VAMPS
Pairing(s): KAZ/Hyde
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction, homosexuality and sex.
Summary: A little private lesson for Hyde from his sensei.
Notes
For x_shock_me_x.
This is probably her favorite fetish.
Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Jobs
“Sensei…”

What they were doing was wrong. No, what they were doing was completely and entirely wrong under every perspective, opinion, religious standpoint, and social standard. But maybe that’s what made it all the more exciting. The danger of being caught. There was a lot at stake here. Reputations, futures, and even this game itself.

However, their thoughts were focused on the here and now. What would, could, should, or might happen was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was that if it wasn’t for the desk beneath him, Hyde perhaps would have fallen to the floor by now. He was young, inexperienced and sloppy, but perhaps that’s what a student is.

As Kaz’s eyes lazily trailed down to the floor to look at the mess they had made in their latest escapade in the classroom, he was fulfilling his role as teacher. Unlike Hyde, he had gathered experience and finesse and it was his job to pass it on to his students. His lips returned to Hyde’s neck for soft, slow kisses as both recovered. This is what they paid him to do, help the students grow. So what if he had a little fun on the job?

Title: Touch
Fandom/Original: Hyde, Moon Child, and Kagen no Tsuki
Pairing(s): KeixHydexAdam, Hyde/Megumi
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction, crossover, homosexuality and sex.
Summary: Having had his heart on coming home to his wife, Hyde's a little frustrated when he's stuck in a hotel for an extra, unexpected night.
Notes
Another one for x_shock_me_x.
Because one Hyde isn't enough apparently.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Touch
To put it bluntly, Hyde was frustrated as he lay in the hotel room management had booked last minute. If it wasn’t for the bad weather, he could be home right now. More importantly, he’d be in bed with Megumi. And he wouldn’t be lying here in small hotel room frustrated to the point of insanity.

He thought about just taking care of the problem numerous times, but he was craving someone else’s touch right now. Unable to meet this need, he just closed his eyes and decided to wait for the morning when he could leave and then ravage his wife.

But then something strange happened.

He felt another’s body on top of his own, hungry lips greedily attacking his neck with immediate grinding that caused his eyes to open once more. He stared in complete fascination at the man who had climbed atop him. Blonde hair, the same build as himself--actually, everything was exactly as himself. Before the signal crossed the synaptic gap however, he felt another body pressed against his side. This new addition’s hands wandered, paying attention to every detail, while his mouth paid attention to the other side of Hyde’s neck.

Looking to the man on him, Hyde was met with sharp, dark eyes. Something caged, predatory and carnal, lurked beneath the surface in the dark depths, contrasting greatly with the eyes to his right. When he met those eyes, they were softer even though they shared the same shade. Behind them, there was loneliness and a yearning for contact. All three wanted something: touch.

Hyde’s hands began to do their fair share of wandering, met with low growls, purrs, and soft murmurs of appreciation. He knew who these men were, but concern for that was miles and miles away as hands roamed lower and clothes were tossed aside.

“What a dream…” Hyde murmured to himself the next morning. He burrowed his head deeper beneath the blankets, content with the events of last night until he looked to his hand. There, in the very palm of his hand, was a necklace. A red crystal held by silver caused him to close his hand around it, to see if perhaps he was still in a sleepy, dreamy state. However, it was real.

But those men were not real. They were imaginative people created by gifted minds that had bestowed the duty of their portrayal unto him. As the growing list of questions expanded, Hyde’s satisfaction was replaced with need for touch again. But not Megumi’s or anyone else’s touch. He wanted to feel the very real touch of Kei and Adam once more.

Title: Hey! You!
Fandom/Original: Hyde, Avril Lavigne
Pairing(s): Hyde/Avril, Hyde/Megumi
Rating: PG
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction and crossover.
Summary: When fanboying goes wrong.
Notes
x_shock_me_x's desire once again.
Because Hyde's a fanboy and probably daydreams about it like the rest of us.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Hey! You!
“…And so, the moral of the story is, I’m better than her.”

Megumi stared. Hyde gaped. Avril stood with her arms crossed.

“Say something to her…” Megumi frowned, turning to her husband. When he didn’t give any recognition that she had spoken, Megumi smacked his side to garner his attention. “Oi! Is anybody home up there?”

Avril smirked. “Clearly you’re underwhelming. C’mon, Hyde.” The Canadian reached forward and grabbed his hand. Pulling the gaping man away from his wife and on down the street towards Avril’s original destination.

“Where do you think you’re going with him!?” Megumi yelled incredulously, grappling onto the hand she was already holding. People were starting to stare, but she didn’t give much thought to it. She was too busy trying to keep her husband in check.

“We’re going to a bar. And then back to my place,” Avril replied, stroking Hyde’s cheek. “Whaddya say?”

Too bad Hyde couldn’t quite say much of anything right now. Even if he could have formed more than random noises that echoed from out of his throat and into the atmosphere, he probably would have a very, very angry wife for any verbalized thoughts.

“Why aren’t you saying anything!?” Megumi felt tears prick her eyes. Why was he just standing there, gaping like an idiot, and not defending her or his marriage. “Hey! You!”

“Papa!” Hyde felt a strong tug on his hand and a sharp pull back to reality. “Mama’s waiting!” Hyde’s eyes left the screen playing recent music videos on the street to follow the small finger’s direction. There was Megumi, waiting up ahead.

“C’mon you two!” she called, earning her son’s quick pull on his father’s hand. Much like a puppy pulling on a leash, Hyde was dragged along to Megumi by their small son. Megumi smiled, “You know, you keep gawking at that Avril girl and I’m going to start thinking you’d leave me for her.”

Hyde smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I would never.” He emphasized his point with a kiss to her cheek.

“Hey! Hey! I know that you like me!” Avril’s voice called after the small family.

Private Dance

2008-12-20T18:59:39Z

Title: Private Dance
Fandom/Original: Death Note, SID
Pairing(s): Light/Aki
Rating: R
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction, crossover, sex and homosexuality.
Summary: Loud music + tight dance floor + hotness = ?
Notes
This one is for kinbari_t3hz.
Because she has an overactive imagination.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Private Dance
It had been easy. There was a tangle of limbs, everyone’s hot liquor-laced breath and sweat mixing so the removal of two heated and needing bodies was not greatly missed from the massive groping session occurring on the dance floor; even if they were notorious participants. Perhaps it was not the ideal location, but their desires would not give any attention to details of their surroundings.

Hands traced flesh and grappled onto clothing, tangled into hair while tongues battled and roved over their conquered lands. Wanton moans were lost in the thundering music that vibrated the wall both men were using as support. The smaller man lost himself first, breaking the lock the other had over his mouth to let out a final call of appreciation. He felt his knees give way to the thrusting behind him, but he had nothing to fear with the wall and the other man holding him.

Aki only opened his eyes when he felt cool waves force their way inside and the other give a few last jerks, riding the waves of climaxing. The younger man pulled out, leaning on his elder for support as he tried to shake the stars from his vision. He vaguely felt Aki’s long fingertips run through his hair once more. Aki whispered something, but all Light could feel was the tickle of Aki’s breath on his ear and the rumbling of his voice in his chest.

Aki accepted this, knowing the other was worn and stayed there until Light’s strength, and possible need, returned. Until then, both were content feeling the soothing rhythm of each breath and the pulsating heartbeat shared. There would be plenty of other chances for their private dance.

Shadow

2008-12-20T18:51:09Z

Title: Shadow
Fandom/Original: Zelda
Pairing(s): None
Rating: G
Warning(s): None
Summary: See Twilight Princess.
Notes
For pyrrhic_battles.
Because he's Link, come to save the day.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Shadow
When he had first passed--or rather been forcibly torn through--the entryway to this strange new realm. At least, upon first impression it had seemed strange and new. Once the teen had been able to examine his surroundings a little closer for a brief moment, he realized he recognized much of his surroundings as a land next door to his own.

But this moment to inspect this world was interrupted by a pulsing pain. Something did not quite feel right from the minute he had passed from light to shadow, but now it was tearing through his every fiber of being. Overwhelmed, he barely caught himself before he hit the ground. He searched around, bleary-eyed, but aware he was not alone. His eyes focused on the source of his pain, but it was not long until he noticed the hands before him were no longer his own.

The hot fire that had overcome him was now passing as he realized he could not return to his feet and instead was restricted to four. Not only that, but he had grown an extra appendage. Turning to inspect this new growth, he became dizzy and overwhelmed once more. Everything still was raw and throbbed with pain, so it wasn’t too long until the former boy collapsed.

When he would open his eyes again, he would come to realize that only he could stop the shadow from completely consuming the light.

Shinigami Eyes

2008-12-20T18:44:06Z

Title: Shinigami Eyes
Fandom/Original: Death Note
Pairing(s): Rem/Misa
Rating: PG
Warning(s): Implications of homosexuality.
Summary: Light's, as per usual, a jerk to Misa. Rem wants nothing more than to protect her.
Notes
For joyful_lament.
Possibly the grossest thing I've ever been forced to write.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Shinigami Eyes
“He did it again, Rem!” Misa stormed into her room and quickly into the arms of her shinigami. “Why would someone stand Misa up twice!? He only lets Misa see him once a week, but he never shows up when he promises!”

Rem was unsurprised that Light Yagami had once again broken his promise to his “girlfriend.” In a sick sense, Rem was almost glad Light was so wrapped up in himself and his activities. After all, if it wasn’t for that, the shinigami would never feel Misa’s warmth so close.

“Misa, it pains me to see you this way. Why do you still hold such high regard for Yagami?” It was a fair question. After all, Rem had never done anything to earn tears from Misa and was always there on every beck and call. However, there was something Yagami Light would always hold over Rem beyond being a human boy.

“He’s just so…beautiful, Rem,” Misa murmured.

That’s right. Yagami Light was disgusting. He was the epitome of ugliness. But he had a pretty façade. And that was enough to capture Amane Misa’s heart. Rem, on the other hand, possessed a beautiful emotion. She was beautiful somewhere, just perhaps not her surface.

Misa had shinigami eyes, but still possessed a human heart which was swayed by all things superficially beautiful. Rem would remain by Misa's side until the full potential of her gifted eyes was realized or until her death to save Misa from despair.

Writing Challenge #002

2008-09-23T21:43:49Z

Title: Tomorrow
Fandom: rhythm zone
Characters: Kim Jaejoong/Koda Kumi
Table: Four
Prompt: Stomach
Word Count: 245
Rating: G
Summary: Jaejoong wakes early in the morning after a dream.
Notes
Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Tomorrow
It was still relatively flat. Just a little bump. But he still couldn’t resist the temptation to feel. He glanced at her face as he gently rubbed her tummy beneath her shirt. He had been visited by a wonderful dream. There was no more waiting or wondering for either of them in his dream. Jaejoong’s daughter was just as bright and beautiful as her mother, sitting on his shoulders. Her tiny finger had pointed to everything and inquired what it was, what it was for, what it did. When they finally reached Kumi, he placed her back on the ground and she instantly bombarded Kumi with long-winded summary of all the things they had done that day.

But it was only a dream. He still lived in the world of anticipation and preparation. Jaejoong looked on in jealousy, believing Kumi to still be in that world he just left. But she too had just left the peaceful scenery of tomorrow. He smiled as he nuzzled her neck before giving her cheek a kiss.

“Feel anything yet?” Kumi smiled, shifting closer to him so that her back fit perfectly against his front.

“Not yet,” he replied. He shifted positions to prop himself up with his other arm and gently pushed back her messy bedhair from her eyes. He couldn‘t restrain the smile. “Soon though, right?”

Kumi nodded and echoed, “Soon.” Stroking his cheek, Kumi took the day’s first kiss while their fingers entwined on her stomach. Their dream would be realized.

Writing Challenge #001

2008-09-22T20:10:04Z

Title: Monster
Fandom: rhythm zone
Characters: Kim Jaejoong/Koda Kumi
Table: Four
Prompt: Phobia
Word Count: 716
Rating: G
Summary: Kumi and Dong Bang Shin Ki happen to be at the same festival, but only Jaejoong was convinced by the pop princess to go on a ride.
Notes
These will have a different format to show that they go along with the table posted at my personal journal. This may have a sequel later down the road, which I will link up here should that be the case.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Phobia
Much like a dog on a leash, she suddenly was jerked back. Kumi looked over her shoulder at Jaejoong and tilted her head. The small smile that had appeared the minute she had managed to pull him away from his bandmates had vanished and with it, it took all the color in his face. She crinkled her nose and followed his line of sight to the ride before them.

“Are you okay?” she returned her gaze to the younger man and took a few steps closer to him once she realized just how sweaty his hand had become in a span of a few seconds. “We don’t have to ride it if you’re not up to it…” she hadn’t meant it sarcastically. Monster rollercoasters were not everybody’s cup of tea and she had a feeling this wasn’t Jaejoong’s. He quickly shook his head and swallowed hard.

“Aniyo, it’s fine,” he reassured himself. He gave a quick glance at their hands and quickly dropped her hand as he headed for the line. When Kumi had interrupted his lunch break from exploring the festival, he had expected that her idea of going on a ride would entail something girly like a ferris wheel or merry-go-round. But instead, he traded a safe table full of food with his bandmates for a girl he secretly had feelings for only to die on a rollercoaster she had chosen for them to ride. Or at least that’s how he saw it playing out. He was interrupted from his mental berating when he had to force down the jolt that resulted from Kumi’s seemingly sudden decision to massage his shoulders. While Jaejoong was under the delusion that she hadn’t noticed, Kumi smiled to herself at his obvious nerves.

“Don’t worry,” she grinned. “I won’t tell the boys.” He made a face and looked behind himself at her.

“What’s there to tell them?” Kumi giggled quietly and shook her head.

“Nothing.”

“You’re making fun of me.” He looked away from her, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable despite how good Kumi’s hands were at forcing his muscles to relax. It was Kumi’s turn to make a face.

“No, I just think it’s cute,” she let him go and moved to stand in front of him. The line had begun to move up closer to the ride and Jaejoong’s fear had unintentionally kept him rooted to the spot he was standing. He pursed his lips and forced himself to follow her as she walked backwards. “And don’t try to deny it. You’re scared.” Jaejoong suddenly moved forward a little faster. Instead of the people in line in front of her, Kumi backed into Jaejoong’s hand. She glanced over her shoulder momentarily before turning her attention back to his face. “Well? Nothing to say for yourself?” she giggled.

“You just told me not to deny it. Which do you want?” That smile was back again.

“I want to do what you want to do,” she decided. “Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Good, good…” Kumi nodded. She took his hand off her back to hold it, suddenly turning and pulling him forward. “Because we’re next!”

Jaejoong immediately gripped the safety bar with a vice grip once it was snapped down over their laps. Kumi shifted in her seat beside him to get comfortable while all the worst-case scenarios whirled through Jaejoong’s head. He looked up at all the twists and turns, rises and falls, and began to feel even worse, but those bad feelings went away when Kumi placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks for coming with me, Jaejoong. This would’ve been boring just by myself.” Kumi smiled at Jaejoong’s blush.

“You owe me a lunch now though,” Jaejoong murmured feeling brave enough to at least speak. Kumi giggled and scooted closer to him as the car lurched forward and began its ascent up the first terrifying hill. Kumi had kept her promise and not told the others about his phobia of monster rollercoasters. But Kumi and Jaejoong decided to take a raincheck on the owed lunch as Jaejoong threw himself out of the car as soon as the safety bar lifted and proceeded to deposit everything he had eaten that day on poor thrillseekers coming up the ramp.

Prologue

2008-09-06T13:39:02Z

Title: Unnamed
Fandom/Original: Pierrot, Koda Kumi, misono, ERIKA, Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing(s): Jae/Kumi, Kirito/Kumi, Aiji/Erika, potential Kohta/Misono
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Summary: Kirito Murata is a believer of logic, not faith. When he moves into a new apartment and is visited by a lovely woman by Koda Kumi, he is at first annoyed by her constant presence. But slowly, little by little, as he helps her share her heart with the man she left behind, he finds his own locked away heart melting for her.
Notes
I actually got this idea while pushing carts at work. I wish I was allowed to just stop working to scribble down ideas. But I was mentally writing it down and polishing it up as I worked. It seemed to have worked well enough to produce this.

Unnamed: Prologue

“One friend, one person who is truly understand, who takes the trouble to listen to us as we consider our problems, can change our whole outlook on the work.”
-- Elton Mayo

It would almost be a crime to summarize a dynamic personality like Kirito Murata’s into a single word. He had so many convolutions and complications they were almost contradictions. But if you peeled away everything and got to his core, Kirito was defined by “sense.” By those who didn’t know him, they called him calculating. He always thought before he spoke. He was a master at euphemisms to make his point. But those who did know him well, which was limited to mostly his younger brother and mother, knew that Kirito’s heart was perhaps only jaded. He spoke carefully to only step on the toes of those that deserved it. He would often put himself last to those he cared deeply about and he was always cleaning up his brother’s messes.

When Kirito was five and his brother three, his father passed away. His mother was distraught and fell into a quick depression and the only solution her eldest son could see was to take his father’s place as the keeper of the peace. He studied harder in school, losing himself to a world of books to be able to answer those trivial questions Kohta would drill him with like any other toddler. Therefore, this all work and no play attitude often made him the butt of jokes with his peers at school and in later years, he had to learn to defend himself as well as his troublemaking younger brother. It was two years before he graduated high school that his mother finally remarried, but Kirito felt this new man was even more inadequate than himself to fulfill his father’s shoes.

Unlike his little brother, he did not have much of a relationship with his stepfather and found him useless. He would often need a ride home from bars or other questionable areas of town. And, of course, not wanting to risk the safety of his two blood relatives, Kirito always volunteered to do it without any thanks from his stepfather.

It had been during this time Kirito lost something that everyone believes in almost naturally, but alters as the years go by. By the age of twenty-seven, Kirito lost belief in sense. Although it had managed to maintain the balance in his life and his family’s life, he could see in the outside world that there was no such thing. People were useless, going off in their own conquests for glory, wealth, and fame without consideration to others. The only thing he could truly believe was himself, everything else had a shade of cynicism.

That’s why he found it incredibly hard to believe her.

It's just like, it's just like, it's just like a mini-mall~

2008-05-13T13:43:37Z

Title: Deep Rollers
Fandom/Original: Assassin's Creed
Pairing(s): Altaïr/Adra
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Language and violence/blood/gore.
Summary: A woman is mentioned named Adra in the videogame, but her backstory or history with Altaïr is never fleshed out. This is my version of it.
Notes
This was discontinued because after a know-it-all Mary Sue writer chewed me out about how this story was already done in the DS prequel of Assassin's Creed, I felt too discouraged to continue. I admit it's a rather dumb reason to quite, but it's what happened.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Deep Rollers: Chapter Two
“…And then he just disappeared in the crowd,” she concluded as she added the final stitch to her piece of the tapestry. Her younger sisters, all four of them, showed mixed signs of disbelief, amazement, and curiosity.

“What did he look like, Adra? You left that part out,” Fatimah giggled to her right. Adra attempted to silence her with a look, but it was too late. The other three were hungry for details and already began giggling and demanding a full description of their sister’s hero.

“Why do all of you wish to know so desperately?”

“In case we see him ourselves,” Cala, the last daughter, replied. “So we might beat him for returning our sister.” The others laughed. Adra only teasingly glared at the girl. Once the laughter had died down, Fatimah repeated her question once more. It seemed that steering the girls off course of the question would prove impossible.

“I did not get a good look…” Adra confessed and looked down upon her work, pretending to be inspecting it closely for any fallacy. She did not confess that she wish had seen the face who emitted such a voice and held such strong eyes that could pierce through the darkness.

“You lie,” Fatimah crinkled her nose and gave her sister a playful push. “Tell us the truth!”

Adra’s eyes rose from the beautiful tapestry to throw daggers at her sister. “I tell the truth! He wore a hood, so most of his face was in shadow. I did not take much note of his face. But…it seemed strong…sharp…yes, it was something like that.”

“You wish to keep the image to yourself,” Fatimah huffed and returned to focus on her own stitching, jealousy in her silence. Adra shook her head with a sigh and rose to her feet.

“I would not hold anything away from you, Fatimah, you know that,” she replied to her sister’s pout. “But do not put too much thought to the matter. You know that their kind are truly wicked, slaying the men of the city who avow to protect us from the crusaders.” Replacing herself with her section of the tapestry, she left her sisters and the conversation for the shelter of her mother, who was busied with preparing a meal for the return of her elder sons and husband. Cala leaned back in her stool to spy on her sister and mother until she was satisfied Adra would not hear.

“Do you think she’s making that up?” Cala asked as she sat properly in her seat to work.

“What reason would she have for making something like that up?” Fatimah looked to Cala. “She would not lie to us.”

“Perhaps, but what if she is trying to plant seeds?” one of the middle sisters finished her own work. “You know the way things are for us these days with the war. Papa will not say much on it, but we cannot stitch enough tapestries to sell the merchants to match the prices of food these days.” The other sisters nodded silently. Everyone in their family knew of the plight they faced, even the youngest son who was still suckling knew somewhere in his cries for food or attention.

Adra’s family were certainly not of the aristocracy, but they had once been comfortable. But now their conditions became somewhat like those of the factories that laid in the future with the revolution. The girls had very little time to attend to much else beyond diligently working on tapestries that their father and brothers could carry into the market. It was there the father and his sons delivered to merchants whose pay was growing smaller and smaller, driving the family further and further into poverty. It would not be unlike the eldest daughter to take it into her own hands and leave the family to alleviate the burden she placed upon them.

“Don’t be ridiculous Inaya,” Fatimah snorted. “Papa and Mama have told her many, many times that she will not leave. They will find something to offer as a dowry and wed her to a suitor. She would not make up this man to put our minds into ease as she ran away. It is simply not possible.”

“I hope you are right…” Inaya sighed. “I hope you are right…” All four sisters looked up as they heard Adra step outside once more.

“What?” Adra feigned ignorance to the previous conversation. She would not worry her sister’s further and admit to eavesdropping after her mother had told her to see what was holding up her brothers and father. “Are you gossiping about me?”

“Of course not!” Cala protested, trying to add offense to her tone. “What would make you say that about me? If anyone were to gossip, it would be Layla.”

“You all look very guilty,” Adra smiled as she walked past them, ignoring the bickering that had broken out amongst the sisters over who was more apt to spread word of anything. “Like the dog who had slain the shepherd’s herd, but is willing to blame it on the wolf.” She did not have to walk far from the battle that had broken out before the silhouette of her father and brothers came forth. With a smile, she waved to them, “Papa!” Her smiled vanished and a mixture of despair and concern appeared when she realized what they were carrying.

Deep Rollers

2008-05-12T20:17:40Z

Title: Deep Rollers
Fandom/Original: Assassin's Creed
Pairing(s): Altaïr/Adra
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Language and violence/blood/gore.
Summary: A woman is mentioned named Adra in the videogame, but her backstory or history with Altaïr is never fleshed out. This is my version of it.
Notes
This contains the prologue and chapter one. I'm rather proud of the prologue.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Prologue
A knight’s armor did not shine in the sunlight. Instead, it turned into more of an eyesore. Peasants did not discover aristocracy was hidden within their veins. They stayed in the filthy, disease-ridden streets. Small villages feared raids from opposing armies and larger cities were overflowing with paranoia as they hesitantly peered over their walls. Bodies littered streets and used battlefields; lives lost to the religious strife and grip of disease.

However, above the stench of decay and ailments the air was clean and perhaps even fresh. It was here he watched, amused with the daily going-ons of the people below. Merchants lied their prices were lower or their products were of higher-quality. Guards patrolled the same monotonous path again and again. Beggars scrambled after those who appeared rich enough to spare something for the mouths of their families. Men stumbled about drunk, trying to drown out the poverty and suffering that surrounded them while the diseased struggled to move with their own delirium. Others paced about, itching for an excuse to fight.

Although this age was well before the time of machines and factories, he could easily perceive the town as a prototype. Uneasy and easily broken if the slightest of movements were out of place, this city was a futile attempt at perfection during such a difficult era. And that was what made his duty that much more difficult than previous generations. The flaws that existed in the schematic could easily be seen by him, standing so far above them all, but their removal always erupted in a total shutdown of the unstable prototype. They did not understand their injustice, seeing the violation of basic human rights as ways to maintain prosperity and peace.

When he watched the guards walk about with their swords drawn, he knew they believed this meant safety. Those sparkling, sharpened blades would offer protection if the man in the white robe ever set foot on the streets and end the fascination that had grown around this unknown man. (And he had heard some interesting theories offered as his identity. Some even believed he was an angered spirit that was sent to punish them. Others believed the opposite. To those individuals, he was an angel sent to protect those that could not protect themselves from the corruption.) But this aerial view offered a new perspective to that hunted man as he rose to his feet. Those blades were drawn because an enemy lay in wait. They could feel his eyes roaming the streets, hear his feet walking along the beaten paths, and see his blade quickly steal the life of those they followed. He was always around in their mind because they could not really see him, regardless of whether they felt admiration or hatred towards him.

They could not really say for sure if he was wandering the streets of the city or running along the rooftops. His whereabouts were shrouded in mystery and so, if he were ever to make himself apparent to them, perhaps they could claim victory with a readied blade. In the darkest corners of all minds, guards, peasants, aristocracy, merchants, drunkards, the ill, and the clergy, they all recognized their fear that lay buried beneath that sense of protection.

In truth, the ruler that held the land in a gridlock was fear. It seemed into the veins of the city, infecting the hearts and minds of all its inhabitants. The only one who had so far managed to escape was the man in the white robes who sought the antidote despite criticism that he was a one-man court system playing judge, prosecution, and executioner. Really, while he was destroying corrupt leaders and power, he was destroying the reign of fear. But the pure air he breathed was growing in scarcity from the constricting hold of fear, who was very aware of him and his mission.

Down below, he found the eyes of a small, sickly child. The young boy was eagerly pointing to his direction, tugging on the robes of his mother in an attempt to garner her full attention. It was not until she finally conceded and looked to the heavens that the shadow had already passed. And the only thing she saw was a lone eagle, soaring the skies.

Altaïr was merely a passing shadow, changing the tide of the future.

Chapter One
Her footsteps were calculated, full of knowledge that just one misstep and it would all end. The sun beat down upon her head, seemingly increasing the load that rested atop her head. Her paces slowed even more as she approached the marketplace and left the safety of the fountain. Her coal-black eyes darted back and forth, trying to find the clearest and easiest path. She weaved her way through the throng of people and smiled as she slipped behind a merchant. But then she made her misstep.

A rug laying carelessly against a piece of pottery caught her leg and she fell forward. The jug that held the precious source of life above her head came crashing to the ground, turning the dry sand and dirt into a muddy clay, and shattered with the pottery that had acted as poor support for the rug. The commotion instantly directed the attention of those around as she gradually pulled herself to her feet. As she did, she glanced over her shoulder at the man behind her.

“Did you think you could get away with that?” he took a step towards her, making a grab for her arm. Stepping back, she evaded his hand.

“I was merely passing behind you to move faster, sir, I did nothing wrong,” she began. But her explanation and apology were cut short as the merchant made a call to an approaching guard. She took flight, vaguely hearing the guard demand her halt with a promise of lightening her punishment if she were to cooperate. But fear controlled her and she did not comply with the man’s commands. She had a difficult time breaking through the crowd, although many backed away from her just in case the “thief” was armed and willing to do anything to escape. Quickly, she darted down a deserted alleyway in hopes that the guards were far enough behind that such a sudden move would go unnoticed. Her eyes moved over her shoulder to the end of the street to find not a soul was pursuing her.

Turning to face where any pursuers may appear, her step fell back into a walk and she tried desperately to catch her breath. She was safe. At least this was so until she backed into the wrong person. Instantly, she attempted to flee, but her wrist was caught. As she stumbled, the guard who had surprised her used the momentum to toss her into the wall. She barely regained her foot before turning to face her fate. Swords drawn, she slumped down to her knees and put her hands up in pleading.

“I swear I did nothing wrong, just let me explain!”

“If you did nothing wrong, then why lie, thief?” the guard spat at the woman before him. “You will pay for your sins!” He lifted his blade and she braced herself for her retribution. But the only thing she felt was a breeze. Opening her eyes, she watched the man who threatened her fall to the ground, another standing upon his body.

“Assassin!” the cry went out as soon as the hidden blade withdrew from the throat of the fallen man. She pressed herself against the wall, wishing she could sink through it, as the white-robed man drew a short blade from his back, parrying a sudden attack by the patrol. He caught the blade of another with his flesh, but in a quick reaction, he leapt back and recoiled like a cobra, waiting for that opportune moment to strike. His swings were wild, but filled with purpose until finally, the last man fell to his prowess. The unknown man sheathed his blade and turned towards the “thief.”

But she had not been watching and was taken by surprise when all went silent and still. Although she lived during such horrible times, she had never seen a man die before and certainly never seen a guard die at the hands of another. It had been hard for her eyes to tear themselves away from the once-bubbling throat of the soldier before her at first, but once she felt the eyes of another upon her, she rose to her feet hurriedly, fearing what he would do with his sole witness to his heinous crime.

“Wait!” she took at timid step forward as he began to take his leave, but she stopped short when her foot gently grazed against one of the dead guard. He stopped as asked, but did not turn to face her. Looking at her feet, she gingerly made her way to him. “I want…I want to thank you…for saving me…” In response, he only walked on ahead, but she quickly jumped in front of him. He stopped short, barely avoiding collision. “Is there some way that I can repay you for your service? Surely there must be something I can do for the man who saved my life.”

“You need not give me anything. If you continue to impede--”

“I will not,” she quickly moved aside. He stared at her from the darkness of his hood with eyes whose intensity could be felt by the young woman. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gently moved her further aside.

“You will want to leave here before the rest of the guard realize their men are missing,” he said to her as he passed her by. “I will not be here to save you this time.”

She felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. It was a queer sense of humor, but somehow, it seemed to suit the heroic, yet aloof man that had saved her life. She only watched him for a few moments before her feet obeyed his command rather than her own desire to see to it he safely escaped. She would have to spread word of such a kind man, but carefully. If the wrong ears were listening, her “crime” may be remembered or, the worst, she would be forced to give something to identify the man who had so ruthlessly slain their brothers. She decided she would protect him just as he had protected her. Their meeting had been brief, but she could tell secrecy was of great value to him. Thus, she made it of equal value to herself.

The Story of a Hopeless Romantic on a Starry Night

2008-03-08T04:57:53Z

Notes
This is a very, very personal piece. I somewhat wish I had done more with it.

The Story of a Hopeless Romantic on a Starry Night
When I sleep, I dream of a world foreign to me. I'm on a porch, facing the backyard. It's dark outside, but there's plenty of light given to me from the stars in the heavens and those that wink amongst the foliage before me. A child, a little girl, runs about. She's an image of my youth, although slightly different in her unique way. She laughs and squeals as a small dog nips and barks at her feet. They are on a conquest to capture all the fireflies.

I laugh and warn her, "Azeri, be careful." She does not want to trip and hurt herself on another stick that may have fallen into our protected yard. She does not seem to hear me over her own fun, but I'm somehow okay with that. Soon, my daughter's father sits beside me. Strong arms and a deep voice, he gently embraces me and allows me to rest my head on his chest. We swing lightly in rhythm with his heartbeat. Looking back to the heavens with a content sigh, I return the smile of the moon and its fellows.

This is the dream I have at night. It is the dream that I carry in my heart in the waking world. Perhaps one day this dream will be realized. Maybe it shall be different when that day comes.

But until then, until the heavens watch over my family, I can only be the moon and smile fondly upon the dream.

One Sentence

2008-02-26T23:44:05Z

Title: One Sentence
Fandom/Original: Original
Pairing(s): None
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Summary: See notes.
Notes
It's one sentence from start to finish, although not as insane as "Girl" by Jamaica Kincaid.

One Sentence
The dew still weighed heavy on the blades, pulling them down to the earth; an added weight suddenly came when a tired Monarch rested upon a particularly tall stalk, believing it to be safe, however its peace was soon disrupted as an orange tabby lurked nearby and like a tiger stalked its prey; rushing from its hiding place, the feline missed its target and futilely leapt into the air after it; it was too late and too far away, much too dull for the feared hunter; the housecat hopped onto its fence, peering over the edge at the feral beast just on the other side; met with disappointment, the tabby left the slumbering dog and made its way closer to its abode, a little white house with a mother, father, and baby; peeking between the blinds, the infant could be seen; he was still asleep, much to his parents’ relief because he had been up until almost two in the morning with a fever and other complaints; leaving the baby to sleep, the cat left the windowsill for another, the bedroom of the new parents; they too were asleep, but it was light despite the dark circles and bags gathering beneath their closed eyes alongside the love they shared for not only each other, but their newborn son and their precious feline, who had decided to also allow them more sleep and leave their window; moving to the eastern side of the house, the cat squinted at the awakening sun; and while its orange glow began to pour over the land, I laid awake wondering just who I am.

Satire

2008-02-21T16:58:37Z

Notes
This was written for a humanities class where we had to write a piece of satire about a current issue. I chose the tardy policy that had recently become very extreme and frivolous at my high school.

A random aside, but a friend used a satire piece that her and I wrote my sophomore year. I was so angry because she passed it off as entirely her work for this class I submitted the following piece for. But I wasn't about to be catty and call her out on it.

Suggestion for Tardies

It has come to my attention that Ballard’s halls are overrun with people who have no concept of time management. It was then that the best of Ballard decided to enforce new rules to cease the reign of procrastination and tardiness. But I’m afraid, dear administration, that the mice are still outwitting the felines in this delightful game of cat and mouse. It is why I must present a more reasonable plan of action against these tardies.

Pavlov and Skinner alike have proven to us that animals will respond to and associate actions with their outcomes. But you are perhaps wondering why detention is not enough of a punishment to deter these primordial beasts into obeying the law of the sacred clock. The answer is simple, my friends and I’m willing to reveal the answer as a traitor to my own kind. The fact of the matter is that you are not scaring the things enough!

Now tell me, which is scarier to you? A tall man or woman in a suit walking towards you with their eyes narrowed and their rumbling voice demanding for you to cease movement or a 130lb. Rottweiler with its head lowered, fangs dripping with saliva and eyes thirsting for some action with a deep growl demanding that you cease movement? That would certainly do the trick! Release the hounds every day after the bell has rung in the morning and between classes. They will be trained to take down and destroy any stragglers.

But wait is this not your cup of tea? Why, you could always make use of the pit bull, the German Shephard, or, my personal favorite, the Doberman. All four these breeds will provide similar results including, but not limited to: hospitalization, severe bleeding, lost limbs and digits, destroyed property, urination or/and defecation, and death. (Note: If allergic to dogs, it is also recommended by me that you could make use of your larger cats such as cheetahs, lions, and tigers.)

That is rather silly of me to propose that, isn’t it? That would be rather expensive to purchase all those purebred creatures to do what their bipedal counterparts fail to enforce. Instead, I can offer an idea that is perhaps a little more cost-effective. Electric collars would do wonders to motivate the students!

By no stretch of the imagination am I condoning shock therapy for the students. Good gracious, no! Instead, the bells should send a signal to the collar. When it scans the vicinity the student is within, it will either explode or remain benign depending on if their location is acceptable at that time. The collars will be specialized for each student so no diving into classrooms you don’t belong in to save your hide. Sure, when the collars explode, you’ll have lost a collar (oh yes and a student), but both are replaceable!

I hope that either of these methods will be utilized within the next year or so. It disgusts me as a senior to see my fellows being so lazy about getting to school on time. I mean, what’s more important that high school? College? Pshaw! What will that matter in the end? In high school, that’s where the real learning is. And it’s time those damn cretins learn to respect that!

What is Poetry?

2008-02-20T18:26:12Z

Notes
If I did not have the utmost respect and adoration for Mrs. Livesay, I swear, I would be cursing her name until the day I die for this accursed writing prompt. What is poetry and why do we need it?

I think it should also be noted that I nearly threw-up writing this.

What is Poetry?
I’m staring at the cursor on this virtual page. Its incessant blinking is only adding to my anxiety and tension. Who am I, a teenage girl on her final year of high school, to attempt such a difficult task when the greatest literary artists could not even answer this question? My stomach is dancing and flipping more than an Olympic gymnast during the most complicated and difficult floor routine ever conceived as the deadline pushes closer and closer. It’s a difficult question to ask and it’s an even bigger challenge to answer. Perhaps the better question to pose is what isn’t poetry?

It’s not conformity. It’s not rules. It’s not boundaries. It’s not pre-conceived notions. It’s not dry. It’s not dead. It’s not meaningless. It’s not because it was assigned. It’s not pompous. It’s not shallow. But that’s still not answering the question, is it? What is poetry?

It’s celebration and mourning. It’s confusion and reason. It’s love and hate. It’s light and heavy-hearted. It’s Earthly and divine. It’s so many things wrapped into a few words or a multitude of stanzas. Poetry is unexplainable, it is an experience. To understand poetry is to live.

And to my sanity’s frustration, this is leading towards another question. If poetry is that human experience, why is it necessary? Why do humans feel this undying urge to break all the rules of prose to express it? Why do all people of almost any age feel compelled to indulge in reading the collection of poets?

It is our link to one another. Poetry is the strongest bond any one person possesses because it is able to transcend all boundaries. Poetry is expression of the shared heart that all peoples of all cultures, races, lifestyles, and time periods all understand and feel. Much like its definition, the power of poetry and its ability to tie all of humanity together is infinite.

Poetry tells of all moments in life. It shares all the variety of emotions the heart is able to feel. It sheds light on musings and harder to answer questions. It reveals secrets and keeps them safe. Poetry allows for anyone at any time anywhere in the world to feel connected and feel safer knowing that someone has or is also experiencing the same dreams, frustrations, happiness, and sadness as they are now.

That is why it is most ridiculous to say that poetry is stupid, trivial, or unnecessary. That is why it is most ridiculous to ask any one person to define what poetry is. I have written a page, but I could write on until my last breath and still not have an adequate definition. No matter how many times I traced over this never-ending circular definition that is poetry, the reader would be missing the true heart of poetry.

Because the only answer that can be offered is this and only this: Poetry is.

I knew a woman

2008-02-07T00:32:13Z

I knew a woman
Theodore Roethke

I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Of her choice virtues only gods could speak,
Or English poets who grew up on Greek
(I'd have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek).

How well her wishes went! She stroked my chin,
She taught me Turn, and Counter-turn, and Stand,
She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin;
I nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;
She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,
Coming behind her for her pretty sake
(But what prodigious mowing we did make).

Love likes a gander, and adores a goose:
Her full lips pursed, the errant note to seize;
She played it quick, she played it light and loose;
My eyes, they dazzled at her flowing knees;
Her several parts could keep a pure repose,
Or one hip quiver with a mobile nose
(She moved in circles, and those circles moved).

Let seed be grass, and grass turn into hay;
I'm martyr to a motion not my own;
What's freedom for? To know eternity.
I swear she cast a shadow white as stone.
But who would count eternity in days?
These old bones live to learn her wanton ways:
(I measure time by how a body sways).
Title: Unnamed
Fandom/Original: Original
Pairing(s): None
Rating: PG
Warning(s): Mentioned violence and child abuse.
Summary: Acantha Valenti lead a hard early life, but was granted a second chance as a mob princess.
Notes
None.

Response
Acantha Valenti was a rose if she was to be compared to such a cliché. Everything about her reflected her innermost qualities. Her thin lips showed her reluctance to speak and her preference to silence. Her long hair, tinged with an unnatural shade of red relaxed around her shoulders simply because she couldn’t be bothered with such frivolous tasks as styling her hair. Acantha’s eyes gave the most away. Although large, they were not doe eyes. Instead, they resembled that of a hawk and instead of deep infatuation, intelligence and meticulous attention shown through. Perhaps the only deception was the woman’s size.

At fourteen, she had ceased growing and remained small in stature. But she did not mind the lack of a feminine figure as most would have. Acantha was who her father had groomed her to be and by the age of twenty-seven, no one dared to make eye contact. She was feared. She was powerful. Her small size made her unidentifiable without her beloved, a gift from a king to his lethal princess. Named after the dark god, Acantha’s tiger was named Mainyu. Together, they were the embodiment of the might and prowess the family was known for. But it was a symbol and name she was not born into, rather destined for.

At the tender age of three, Acantha watched her true father leave and never return. He had not been mistaken for an opposing gang member and gunned down. He was not even one of the men who had gone “missing.” He had left. And quite frankly, at that young age, Acantha was almost happy to see him go because she knew of the fights. She would be woken late at night when her father would return from work. At least that was his story. His whereabouts between work and home were unknown and enraged Acantha’s mother. The insults and dishes were tossed back and forth before tears and blood burst from within and all was forgiven. Just one night, Acantha slept the whole night through. Neither she nor her mother ever heard from him again. But Acantha heard all the accusations.

She did not understand her mother’s words entirely at first, but she knew she did not like them. Acantha’s mother blamed her. She blamed her for the struggles the small family had experienced. She blamed her for her father’s absence. She felt disgusting. She felt like a thief. So when her mother would leave, Acantha would accept it as punishment for destroying her mother’s life and marriage. She would not whimper or leave the house for weeks while her mother was away, but she would not leap for joy or even beg for forgiveness when her mother returned.

The reaction to her mother’s final departure had been no different. Not a word was exchanged between the two as her mother walked out of Acantha’s life and for days the young girl remained in the house only driven out when her hunger was too much to bear.

With no money of her own, it only made sense the little girl would attempt to steal. It was during this failed attempt that she crashed into her new family. Making a personal appearance to a deal, Emilio Valenti saw potential in this feisty girl. While he wanted to protect his new daughter and allow her to grow into the princess she should now rightfully be, his kingdom was much too infantile to risk with a weak heir. He had no choice, but to train his daughter to be capable and useful. She was taught to use all weapons available to her, how to persuade others into coughing up information or even organs if she so desired.

Now there was no one to challenge the Valenti family. There was no one to challenge Acantha. But there was also no one to stop the inevitable. Emilio would meet his demise, but he would not allow for his hard work to meet a similar fate. Acantha had procrastinated long enough. She could make the choice or Emilio could. The princess had to be married.

To be continued…

Choking

2008-01-28T22:41:03Z

Notes
I swear I don't need Prozac. I wrote this as an assignment for school. We had to write and then read our poems while being served little snacks and hot cocoa. It was an enjoyable experience.

Choking
A black cloud surrounds me.
Slowly,

Quickly,

Tightening around my neck.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears.
Violently,

Writhing,
My struggle for life goes on.

Like a caged animal, thrashing only hurts me.

Stifled,
Suffocated,
My flame is being smothered.

He's choking me.

Untitled: Chapter V

2008-01-05T17:09:36Z

Title: Kingdom
Fandom/Original: Dong Bang Shin Ki, Koda Kumi, misono
Pairing(s): Jaejoong/Kumi
Rating: G
Warning(s): Real person fanfiction & alternative universe.
Summary: Growing up as best friends, Kumi and Jae never once thought of each other as more than that. But, as Kumi's marriage fast approaches, Jae is soon realizing his true feelings for the princess.
Notes
The ratings for this piece are not an overall rating. They will fluctuate with each chapter. Other than, I have no other notes to make. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing more than the words used here and the idea behind it. Characters belong to their respective owners.

Kingdom: Chapter Five
Battlesong had lived twenty-seven years and sired countless foals before he peacefully passed on one night. He had been a bay and in his prime, his coat would appear almost red in the sunlight. Time took its toll on the old stallion and his coat soon became tarnished with scars from battle. Nevertheless, he commanded respect. His body lay buried somewhere on the palace grounds, but his spirit was currently majestically soaring through the woods.

One of his last foals, a gift to the young princess, was now running as her father had. Skysong, urged on by the man on her back, leaped over fallen branches and forced herself up and down the small hills. The princess, despite trusting the young man seated before her, held on tight.

“Jae, are you sure this is the safest path?” Kumi dared to peer around her companion to see the untrodden path ahead of them. When Kumi had climbed down from the tree on her mare’s back, she was expecting Jae to blaze their way on the cleared path they had traveled so many times over. But Jae had taken them off the winding path and cut straight through the woods. Kumi bit her lower lip and looked behind them at the land quickly reaching the horizon. Either Jae had not heard her or he was hiding the true answer and feigning deafness. It made her nervous, whichever way it was.

Wordlessly, Jae reached behind himself and pulled Kumi down as he ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch. When he sat back upright, Kumi did not follow. She wasn’t certain if she should even bother sitting back up. This new road was unpredictable and who knows when she would have to push herself down low to the saddle once more. She stayed down like that, watching the earth below rush past and the muscles tense and release in Skysong’s body. But, of course, the position gradually became more and more uncomfortable for the princess to hold. She was going to have to think of some other way to avoid being knocked unconscious.

Looking back up at Jae, she feared distracting him. When he had reached behind to pull her down with him, she had felt her heart stop for a moment. His attention had been solely focused on her for a moment and off the road. That could have had dire consequences and it was a risk Kumi was unwilling to repeat. Sitting up slowly, the princess decided the best thing to do was something she wasn’t entirely sure about doing. Kumi, using her arms, carefully pulled herself closer to Jae until her smaller frame was pressed against his and shut her eyes to focus.

The fear she had felt ebbed away as she began to move in sync with his. When she felt his back tense for a jump, she was no longer taken off-guard. Her body would mimic the same tension and relax when his did upon landing. If she felt him start to pull away, Kumi would follow after. If he leaned back, she leaned back. Kumi knew that if she concentrated on this the rest of the way, there was nothing to fear. Jae would keep her safe.

So lost in his body’s every reaction, Kumi did not notice Skysong’s body begin to relax. She did not hear the hoofbeats slow and lower in count. The only thing she noticed was Jae’s body, moving with Skysong, lurched to gradual halt. But even then, that did not bring Kumi out of her deep concentration. She dared not break it.

Jae relaxed now that they were safely before the barn once more. He leaned down to pat Skysong’s neck and noticed that he had a follower. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Kumi still pressed against his back as close as she could be with her eyes shut tight. He smiled slightly to himself.

“I didn’t scare you too much, did I?” His words seemed to have finally broken Kumi’s fear and concentration as her eyes opened and returned his gaze.

“No,” Kumi lied as she used his back as leverage to sit up. “I just wasn’t sure if that was the safest route. I’m still not sure it was.”

Jae sat up once more and confessed, “It wasn’t, but it was the fastest.” It was true that Kumi was looking for speed more than anything else out of the ride back. But she would not admit that and dismounted first. She put her hand over his on the reins.

“Thank you, but never, under any circumstance, do that again,” Kumi grinned. Jae returned the smile and nodded in response.

“There you are!” The pair both looked in the direction Misono’s voice had come from and saw the younger sister making her way over to them quickly. “Kuuchan, you have got everyone, and I mean everyone, completely upset. You told your tutor you were getting ready and then you were nowhere to be found. Mom’s all upset and thinks you might be skipping out and running away.”

Misono had also gone through her fair amount of changes over the twenty years that had spanned since that summer. Growing up, Misono had once idolized her sister. She wanted to go everywhere and do everything that Kumi did. But as Misono grew, she began to change from her sister. The girl that once threw a fit when her kimono was used as a diaper was no more and was replaced by a woman who laughed at the many “accidents” that seemed to befall her kimono. She was often seen about the palace playing pranks on the servants and guards, narrowly evading trouble. Misono never referred to her parents formally, no matter how much she was reprimanded for it. Although the same height and bearing the same facial features, Misono’s spirit was more wild and untamed in comparison to her sister’s. Perhaps the only thing she shared with her sister besides their physical features was that warmth and desire for something more than the courts could offer.

As for her relationship with Jae, she had started out quite the opposite of Kumi. She loathed the orphan at first and saw him as a nuisance. Any attention Kumi gave Jae was attention away from her. This had to be corrected one way or another. But after countless forced playtimes, Misono gradually decided that Jae was “okay.” And as she began to willingly play and talk with Jae, she decided that she would adopt him as her little brother finally. It was around that time that her troublemaking streak had begun and poor Jae suffered the brunt of punishment when the pair was caught.

But right now, her attention was far from Jae and more focused on getting her sister where she needed to be. When Kumi was not immediately snapping to attention and moving, Misono began to pull on her free hand and away from Jae towards her quarters.

“Skip the goodbyes this time. You guys will just see each other at supper anyways. C’mon, c’mon,” Misono tugged harder and Kumi started to helplessly follow until she wrenched her hand from her sister’s.

“I can walk.”

“Good, then get moving!” Misono got behind her and pushed her forward. Turning back to Jae, she grinned, “Thanks for bringing her back, Jae, see you at supper!”

Jae nodded in response and watched the two girls disappear in one of the many buildings that made up the palace before dismounting. Patting Skysong’s neck once more, he tugged her reins gently to bring her around the barn to the nearby well. She whinnied and swished her tail in both appreciation and impatience. As Jae began to draw the water out, one of the youngest servants came running over quickly.

“I’m sorry to ask you this, but could I perhaps use that water?” the servant bowed politely to Jae.

“What for?” Jae inquired as he set the heavy bucket on the edge of the well. He knew it would be important, but his curiosity needed to be sated.

“The chef asked me to bring more water as quick as possible. Tonight’s supper is still not prepared,” he began to fret. “And if it’s not prepared, then they will have to wait. And if they have to wait, it will be a mistake. And if there’s a mistake, the king and queen will go on a mad hunt to find out who messed it up. And the chef will say it wasn’t him, it was me, who didn’t return quickly enough with the water. And the—”

“Changmin!” Jae had been repeating the servant’s name over the entire frantic rave, but it was not until he raised his voice that Changmin had even heard Jae speak. Jae untied the bucket and moved aside. “It’s okay, just be quick bringing it back.” Skysong snorted in annoyance.

“Thank you!” Changmin went to lift the bucket and used all of his might, but found that it did not budge even a little off the edge. Getting into a better angle, Changmin managed to finally lift it off, spilling some of the pail’s contents. Jae watched him struggle for a few moments before offering assistance, but Changmin shook him off and replied, “No, no, I’ve got it. Thank you.” Jae leaned against the well, knowing it was best not to prod the pride of a boy growing into a man. Turning his attention away from the boy, he stroked Skysong’s nose and apologized.

“Sorry, Skysong, but things have to be perfect for Kuuchan. You understand, right?” Jae smiled some to the mare. She only decided he’d make a perfect scratching post and rubbed her head against his side roughly, nearly knocking him over. Laughing a little, Jae allowed it. “I suppose this is my punishment for making you wait.” Checking on Changmin’s progress, Jae saw that he had finally arrived at the proper building. The new dilemma was how to get in the building with the water in the bucket. Jae shook his head. “C’mon, Skysong, let’s get that off you.”

Jae undid his knots and ties holding the saddle to the mare. As he lifted it off her back, Skysong visibly shrunk and relaxed. She waited patiently and did not move while Jae disappeared into the barn to put her saddle back in its proper place. She watched Changmin off in the distance for a moment before walking her way across the lawn towards the boy. No one noticed the horse leave and approach the servant. Changmin, too busy attempting to lift the bucket did not notice the horse’s presence until the bucket gained even more weight suddenly. Opening his clenched eyes, Skysong had her nose in the bucket. He yelped and jumped back in surprise, but Skysong was undeterred from her long drink.

“No, no, no!” Changmin panicked. Going around the bucket, he stood beside the horse and attempted to pull at her reins. But no matter how he pulled, Skysong remained rigid and drinking away all the cooking water. “C’mon Skysong,” Changmin whined. “Stop!”

Jae came back out of the barn to find no mare by the well and the young servant shouting. Turning his head to Changmin, Jae whistled sharply. Skysong’s ears perked and she quickly turned and raced towards Jae. When she reached him, she could tell he was displeased and slowed her pace.

“Skysong,” Jae began as he took her reins. “I don’t know what Misono has been telling you, but I know you have better manners than that.”

Poor Changmin was nearly trampled when Skysong took flight, but it was the least of his worries. Peering into the bucket, fearing the worst, Changmin’s nightmare was realized. Skysong had managed to drink nearly all the water! Quickly grabbing the bucket, Changmin sprinted the distance from the building to the well and began to tie the bucket.

“Changmin, let me do it. You put Skysong back in her stall,” Jae held out the reins belonging to the mare to the boy. Changmin glared at the horse, but agreed to swap tasks for the moment. Working silently and quickly, Jae gathered more water as Changmin led Skysong inside the barn. Changmin walked into the stall first and opened her window once more while Jae began to reel the bucket back from the depths of the well. And as Changmin removed Skysong’s bridle, Jae was untying the bucket.

“I’m gonna remember this,” Changmin warned as he closed the stall door and latched it into place. “See if I help you if you ever get in trouble,” he continued to mutter as he left the barn. Skysong, of course, paid the boy no mind and began nibbling hay Jae had deposited in her stall after taking care of her saddle.

Changmin frowned a little once outside. He was grateful Jae had offered to help rather than leave him to struggle, but he still could not help but feel he had failed in his task. He reminded himself that it was no ordinary night. Tonight, it did not matter who did it. It only mattered that it was done. This in mind, Changmin quickly caught up to his superior.

“Thank you,” he repeated once again as he stepped up to take the bucket from Jae.

“It was the least I could do,” Jae set the bucket down before allowing Changmin to take it from him. “Be careful with that.”

“Don’t worry,” Changmin grunted as he lifted the bucket. “You better get going, huh? I don’t think Their Highnesses would want you to come to dinner reeking of horse,” Changmin managed to say as he made his way inside. Jae knew he should take his leave, but he stayed long enough to make sure Changmin made it inside without tripping or dropping the bucket. “I’m fine, go on!” Changmin reprimanded the supervision and with a smile, Jae left the boy to his work. They both had to prepare for the supper of utmost importance.