#write everyday challenge

[while-we-sit-and-wait-for-time]

Writing exercise: Thought

Napoleon has lost his horse in the middle of a battle

The force of the fall shakes Napoleon, the thrill he always felt in the midst of combat spiking dangerously. He struggles to standing on the muddy field, his left knee almost giving out the moment he put weight on it. 

His warhorse lay sprawled in the dirt, its hooves kicking weakly as it bled from the bullet wounds. Damn the British.  

Around him the battle raged on, gun shots ringing out from muskets of both sides, riders thundering past him towards the east, the opposite direction they planned to attack. He grits his teeth, taking two quick steps to his horse’s side and plunges his sword into its neck. The beast spasmed once and stilled. It’s easier this way, for it anyway. 

Sometimes, alone in the commander’s tent, Napoleon would grieve for the horses that crossed the veil each battle. Most would call it foolish, some might sympathize, and he told no one. It was always him and a lantern, alone in the gentle bustle of a military campt past midnight. 

“Major!” Napoleon called, walking unsteadily towards where he last saw the man. His voice was getting hoarse. “Major Prendergast!” 

The intelligence must have been faulty.

Napoleon peered at the men about him, trying to find the familiar uniform of his second in command. After this is all over, he will find the officer responsible for the tip. There is no room for error in his army. It’s the only reason he’s made it this far. 

“Major!” He called again, a little more desperate. Foot travel was dangerous on a battle field, especially for a commanding officer. He wasn’t wearing anything overly identifying, but if the British realized napoleon was on the field alone— 

Suddenly a rider rushes at him from the side, the horse almost trampling him in its hurry. Napoleon darts back, gasping when he lands on the bad knee. 

The red coat of the rider on its back was darker than blood, his smile gleaming. 

“And so we meet again, Herr Napoleon.” 

[fifteen-half-blog]

Ugetsu was a great friend. But he was making Hayato’s life much more miserable.

Hayato didn’t need to be reminded that his own father didn’t want him, every single day, after all.

Closing the book he’d already read twice, Hayato stood up and left without a word. When he closed the door of the library, he briefly leaned against it, trying to bury all the bitterness and hurt deep, deep inside.

Inside the room, Hayato heard Ugetsu heave a deep sigh. Most likely from having failed at getting him to try and mend his relationship with his father. Again.

But unlike Ugetsu, Hayato had already given up. There was no need to force the older man. Who would honestly want Hayato around anyway? If his own parents didn’t want him, then who would?

Trying to make friends wasn’t his thing either. Kids his age were either too innocent or too jaded. Hayato couldn’t relate to them at all. Adults, on the other, only took and took and took. He thought he found refuge with Shamal but... well, that was another can of worms Hayato didn’t want to open.

Shamal was the only adult who listened to him; actually listened to him. Even taught him a thing or two about surviving on the streets and making money. But when he came home one day looking like shit but extremely proud of himself for the haul he earned, Shamal just lost it. Kept on spouting shit about Hayato not being ready, about him completely missing the point of the lessons.

“I taught you how to fight so you could protect others!” he said.

Hayato wanted to tell him, “How could I protect others if I’m starving?” but Shamal had already left. Hayato didn’t know why, but after that day, Shamal wasn’t the same anymore. The doctor would come in, check his mother, then leave.

Hayato lost Shamal. But at least he wouldn’t starve anymore. He was grateful for Shamal for that, at least.

That was why, when he saw the doctor in the mansion, Hayato didn’t say anything. But at least everything is clear to him now. Shamal wasn’t a doctor going around the slums for charity. The Vongola probably sent him to watch over his mother.

Hayato never really meant anything to him.

The whispers were the worst. Followed closely by the stares.

No matter where he went, they followed.

Look, he’d hear, that’s the master’s son.

He’s the reason why she died. If only he wasn’t born.

Master is still so heartbroken over it. I’m so sorry for the son. He’s really pitiful, isn’t he?

It all came to a head when he, Takeshi and Tsuna were in a park.

Tsuna wanted to help some kid. Takeshi followed Tsuna everywhere. Both of them were idiots who completely ignored everyone’s warnings.

Hayato was an unfortunate bystander who took the burnt of it all.

“Tsuna is the Vongola’s heir!” they kept on yelling at him, “It is your duty to look after him! Your duty to lay down your life for his sake!”

G, on the other hand, didn’t say anything. Just kept on frowning at him.

Hayato didn’t know what to make of it. He was too tired. Thwarting an assassination attempt could do that to a person.

Hayato thought it was something good. He made sure Tsuna got back home safely, didn’t he? Albeit, completely unconscious and bleeding from a head wound. But he was still alive. That’s what’s important, right?

Apparently not. Someone had to take the blame for allowing the heir to be kidnapped. And Hayato couldn’t defend himself, too much in pain to think clearly.

After what felt like hours of being yelled at by nearly everyone, Hayato couldn’t help but sigh as he collapsed on his bed.

Curling up on his side, Hayato made a decision.

If this is his reward, the next time Tsuna gets kidnapped, perhaps it would be better if Hayato didn’t return at all.

They’d probably still blame him, but at least he wouldn’t be there to hear it.

The next attempt happened too soon.

This time, Hayato was bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound he took for Tsuna.

“I’ll distract them while you two run.”

“No!” the smaller boy whispered, his eyes filled with tears, “We won’t leave you behind!”

“Tsuna’s right, Hayato! We’re family. We don’t leave anyone behind.”

Hayato wanted to roll his eyes at that.

“Baseball freak, just get Tsuna out of here. You and I both know there’s no other choice.”

“But--,”

The choice was taken from them when their hiding spot was discovered. With bullets raining around them, Hayato pushed the two towards the only exit left.

Self-sacrifice.

That was a good thing, right?

They’d probably still blame him, but since since he did his duty by laying down his life for the heir, maybe they’ll be lenient for once and maybe mourn for him.

He’ll never experience it, but maybe they’ll at least like him just this once, right?

[fifteen-half-blog]

i just spent an at least thirty minutes trying to login...

another proof that i’ve totally failed the challenge i made for myself T___T

[fifteen-half-blog]

#eight

on the way to baler!

first time to have a guest over at home too D: the house is NOT ready.

before going to baler tho... work :|

[fifteen-half-blog]

#seven

started 12:15 | ended

wednesday just ended, and i’m so tired.

i guess it’s cause i’ve been shopping since monday, ha! my horoscope for 2018 is that i won’t have money... is it right? people keep borrowing money from me too. and because i know they’re having financial difficulties, i keep telling them it’s okay.

just finished watching burn the stage too.

i’m... kinda of disappointed? it doesn’t seem like they’ll be showing manila :( looks like it’s straight to billboard. well, no can do. americans were the ones who did the documentary. of course no other country is important except theirs.

i have a lot of dreams in life. one of them is to build ph’s entertainment industry that other countries invite us to perform. but, because the interests are different, i doubt this will happen. what is popular in other countries, isn’t in here. joyce was right. in the philippines, it’s all about love teams. and also about winning money :|

it’s... been a rough week. but not because of stress but because of the lack of drive. for real though, this is the reason why i feel like i’m stuck.

just watched a clip of jimin singing. while others are praising his voice... i guess it’s because i grew up with a certain criteria in mind for singers. they’re not great singers if they can’t belt-- which is still the standard here. some are popping up, like... moira, i guess. but the belters are still the “superior” singers.

which is why i don’t feel that jimin is a great singer. he can sing. but not as well as jungkook, as stable as jin, nor is his range as wide as taehyung’s.

despite all of that though, jimin is the only singer in bangtan who moves me. it’s his parts that i repeat, over and over and over again. there is just something with his voice! i don’t know if it’s the way he speaks, or if it’s because he’s given the best lines but... wow. he makes it work.

i used to think that jimin and jungkook had almost equal singing parts, because jimin’s parts stood and stuck for me. i remember his parts the most, so i used to think he had a lot of lines.

but of course it’s wrong.

jimin usually sings one line, over and over again. especially in the older songs.

haaaaay

ending this log with sleepy eyes.

i hope i find a good fic to read before sleep!

a new day tomorrow!

[fifteen-half-blog]

#six

day six! started 12:17 | ended 1:02AM

Jimin was eating quietly in an inn when Kim Namjoon, one of the captains of his previous guild, came in then walked purposefully in his direction.

“You’re a hard man to find, Park Jimin.”

Jimin took one look at him, then promptly lost all his appetite. Thoughts of the past came to him unbidden. He’d already accepted his lot in life, but the hurt was still there for he had truly believed they accepted him into their friendship.

He was tempted to bring up the past, tempted to blame why he couldn’t stay at a place too long, couldn’t find work, couldn’t properly live, but it would do nothing now. All of them were convinced he was a fraud after all. 

Looking warily at the elder man, Jimin said, “How many times do I need to apologize, Namjoon-sshi? Please, leave me alone.”

Instead of the disbelief he’d come to get used to, Namjoon just looked defeated.

“We need you, Jimin. We need you to come back.”

That was the last thing Jimin was expecting from the usually calm man.

“I know we’re the last people you want to see, but... but you’re right. Lee Minsik was the traitor all along. He framed you because you were convenient, because you were still finding your place in the guild. And because none of us... didn’t welcome the change. Like your inclusion in the team, in Bangtan.”

asjdlkajlasd brain. not. working :|

[fifteen-half-blog]

#five:

started 12:45 | ended 

He was twelve years old and already, there was nothing he looked forward to in life. Because what else is there but to survive?

Admittedly, surviving was easy when you lived in a mansion owned by the most notorious mafia in the world. He had all he needed and was even encouraged to ask for anything he wanted.

But it was a little difficult considering he probably wouldn’t be welcomed here soon. The fact that he was the son of Vongola’s right hand man meant nothing since the man himself hadn’t once acknowledged him since he arrived.

Or more like forced.

Not that he could complain. His mother wanted it. She wanted to be with the only man she loved. It was her dying wish, passing away due to a terrible sickness that not only ate at her body, but also her sanity.

She probably thought she was doing him a favor by leaving him in the care of the rich. But honestly? Hayato felt more free in the slums than living in this idyllic place.

His “brothers” didn’t help either.

Tsuna, the Primo’s son, was a boy his age who was completely innocent of the world around him. He was sheltered from cruelty, protected from anything that could do him harm. And though he could ask for anything, he was a sweet boy who charmed everyone around him.

Hayato’s own father included, of course.

Then there was Takeshi. He was the same age as them, and though he was being brought up to protect the young heir, already being taught the truth of his family, he was far too cheerful for Hayato. And still very innocent of how cruel the world could be.

There were other children there; children of the other guardians. While some of them were older than Hayato, and were definitely attuned with the outside world, they were all very protective of the younger ones. Hayato couldn’t even pass the salt to Tsuna without being watched like a hawk.

It was grating his nerves. He knew they were only looking out for the younger ones, but sometimes, he couldn’t help but feel that they thought he was a threat and that they wanted him gone.

So Hayato usually made himself scarce. Thankfully, the mansion was big enough that he could avoid Takeshi’s attempts at friendship. At least Tsuna was giving him space. Although that was more from the fact that the heir thought he was scary. Reborn, Tsuna’s personal tutor, would always scold the younger for that.

“You will make that frown permanent if you continue on like that, Hayato-kun. Will you not join your brothers outside?”

Hayato didn’t even look up from the book he was reading, trying to ignore the other man.

Both of them knew that Ugetsu was trying to make up for his own father’s lack of interest in him. Why Ugetsu made it his persona mission, Hayato didn’t know, but Hayato was already getting tired of it. 

If the Primo couldn’t make his right hand man acknowledge his son, then who would? Hayato had already lived most of his life unwanted. He thought he’d be free from the longing, for the want of something better, for a place where he felt he belonged, when his mother died, but in this mansion, surrounded by people who didn’t really care about him at all, Hayato felt it much more intensely.

Ugetsu wasn’t coming to him because he was concerned about Hayato. He was there because he couldn’t get G, his most trusted friend, to do the right thing. With a son of his own, and with his knowledge of G, Ugestu likely didn’t want his friend to regret his decisions, for it was obvious he was heartbroken, and wasn’t thinking straight.

Ugetsu was a great friend. But he was making Hayato’s life much more miserable.

Hayato didn’t need to be reminded that his own father didn’t want him, every single day, after all.

[fifteen-half-blog]

#four

day 4! mafia!au continued.

Taehyung turned his head away in an effort to hide his laughter.

His best friend was so badass.

Granted, Jimin didn’t know who he was dealing with, but the fact that the shorter man who looked like he couldn’t hurt a fly, had held his own against a muscular pig and one of the scariest people Taehyung has ever met, and actually won, was nothing short of astounding.

What did he do to deserve someone like Jimin in his life?

“Look, how many times do I have to apologize for being fucking surprised there was a bleeding man on my couch? I’m not heartless. You took him here in my home. You expected me to save his life. Now you’re gonna let me do it or take him somewhere else. Like an actual hospital. Like normal people do. But since for some reason you can’t, you either stop acting like a mama bear and let me do my job.”

Taehyung could tell that Yoongi was seconds away from getting physical with Jimin, and in any other case Taehyung would be concerned, but he also knew that Yoongi wasn’t heartless either. If anything, the older man had too much of it.

Yoongi, glaring for all his worth, snarled at Jimin, “Fuck you, Park. If he dies tonight I’ll fucking kill you.”

Then the mint haired man stalked off, headed towards where Hoseok was.

“That wasn’t an empty threat, you know. Hyung will do it.”

Jimin had to raise his head to look at Jungkook in the eyes, but despite the difference in height, Taehyung had never seen Jimin look so tall.

“I’m a doctor. I’ll do everything I can to save his life,” and then, as if Jimin could read Jungkook’s inner thoughts, he softened his voice when he said, “I know how important he is to you. And I’m sorry; I’m really, really sorry I hesitated when I saw him. But you two watching my every move and questioning me every time I breathed won’t help. Just stay by his side. If anything, he’ll appreciate it when he wakes up.”

Like magic, the tension on Jungkook’s frame dissipated somewhat. He glanced at Taehyung’s direction once, then made his way to where Hoseok was.

As soon as Jungkook was gone, leaving him and his best friend alone in the living room, Taehyung snickered when Jimin collapsed on the floor, his energy entirely spent.

“I can’t believe I did that,” Jimin whispered in shock. Looking up at Taehyung, he worriedly asked, “They’re not really gonna kill me, right?”

Knowing that Yoongi probably wouldn’t hesitate, Taehyung decided to steer the conversation somewhere else. Crouching in front of his best friend, Taehyung grinned as he clapped Jimin on the back, “Fucking hell, Jiminie! I knew you were a badass under all that mochi! That was great!” he crowed, “Hobi hyung’s gonna love this when he wakes up!”

“Yeah, about that...” messing up his hair even more in frustration, Jimin once again pleaded, “Are you sure you can’t take him to an actual doctor? Or at least a facility with proper medical device and life support?”

Taehyung knew that Jimin wasn’t asking this because he wanted them gone, but because he was genuinely concerned about Hoseok’s life. And though Taehyung couldn’t tell Jimin the truth, Taehyung could at least tell him this, “It’s just for tonight, Jiminie. We just need a safe place for tonight. Hobi hyung just needs to push through tonight. And he will, right?”

Jimin smiled encouragingly at him, “I’d like it if I could at least pump a bit more blood in him, but yes, Tae. He’ll be fine.”

Unable to help himself, Taehyung wrapped his arms around his best friend, his heart bursting with gratefulness and love.

Yoongi and Jungkook weren’t impressed by Jimin right now. But Taehyung knew they would before the night ends.

“I need you to strip.”

Taehyung really, really loved his best friend. He should be stressed over their botched plans, should be worried about Hoseok, but Jimin was making it very hard to stay melancholic.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook asked, the look on his face a mix between disbelief and shock.

“You’re bleeding. That stain on your shirt is fresh so it’s not Hoseok-sshi’s. I need you to strip so I can sew your wound.”

“I’m fine! This is just a scratch!”

“I’m sorry, are you a doctor? I get to say if it’s a scratch or not. How many times do I have to ask you?”

Knowing that both Jimin and Jungkook wouldn’t back down, stubborn fools they were, Taehyung interjected, “Just let him see to it, Kookie. It’s not a big deal.”

“I know!” Jungkook exclaimed, “I’ve been saying it all this time--,”

“What Tae meant, Jungkook-sshi, is that--,”

“Oh for the love of-- both of you just shut the fuck up!”

That was Yoongi. He was glaring at them both, daring them to continue.

Except Jimin didn’t really know Yoongi, and he’d already embarrassed himself, plus he was genuinely worried about Taehyung’s friends, so he brazenly said, “I need you to strip too, Yoongi-sshi.”

Yoongi took one look at Jimin, then he told Taehyung, “When this night ends, I’ll fucking kill your best friend, Tae. He’s more annoying than you are.”

Taehyung only laughed. It pulled at the stitches Jimin had done a while ago, before he started terrorizing Jungkook, but the pain was worth it.

“Your friend is crazy, hyung,” Jungkook told him, after his wounds (not a scratch) were cleaned and bandaged up, “Seriously. He’s crazy.”

Watching Jimin tending to a pissed off Yoongi, Taehyung snickered, “I know. That’s why he’s my best friend, Kookie.”