Kyuhyun laughs at you as if you were the stupidest person on the face of the earth. And you most certainly are not.

"Shut up," you tell him in your most biting voice and scrunch the blankets up to your neck.
"You seriously need help if you thought that was a good joke. I mean..." he goes quiet and you turn your head to look at him.
"Did you bring your hammer?" he askes mockingly once he's certain of your attention. You glare and roll over, showing your back to him as he says the punchline. "Cause its time to hit the sack!" he's shaking in his bedroll, you can sense it. And his damn horse snorting wasn't doing much for your pride, either.
"...Hyung..." his voice fades. The silence stretches and your curiousity mounts until you can't help but turn around to face him. His eyes are closed and you can make out light skin and shadows.
"What?" you whisper.
"What's an idiot like you doing in a swamp?"
You narrow your eyes at him - doesn't he have better things to do with his time than making fun of you? - and scoff, "I could ask you the same thing."
He turns his head and grins at you childishly, "I asked you first."
You let out a sigh and then rally yourself. "I am here to banish an evil demon back to where it came from!" you shout and punch your fist in the blackness above.
"...Really? A demon?"
You look over to see Kyuhyun with an unreadable look on his face.
Feeling insulted, you answer ferverently, "Yes, a demon!"
Kyuhyun shrugs. "Huh... So, how are you going to find this demon of yours?" he asks. "This a pretty big swamp, in fact, I think its endless."
Now you're confused, "What makes you think that?"

"Well, I've been traveling through it for a month now."

317
 


A/N:  So, for anyone who follows When You're Sick And Can't Get Up, it is now officially ON HIATUS.

Also, for the first twenty commentors, ten will receive a drabble/one-shot/short fic dedicated to them.

Cause I know there are people who read and don't comment.  I have a hit counter, I know.  And I need more motivation to write...

"That's not nice," you snap at the taller man - <i>boy</i> compared to you - and stoop down to retrieve the stick he'd thrown your way.

Kyuhyun - why is he so tall? - tilts his head up and whines towards the dark night sky, "That's not niiiiiiiice." Its a rather poor imitation of you.

You glare at him and shuffle over to the small fire that burns glumly. You lean down and poke at it and watch the growing light illuminate the dark brush at your feet.

"That's not niiiiiice."

You whip your head around to glare at the offending whiner. "That's a pretty bad imitation of me," you huff.

You don't like how he smirks.

"That's a pretty baaaaad imitaaaaation of meee," he rolls his eyes at you.

You straighten up defensively, "You know, I'm not your dog to be told to fetch."

Kyuhyun looks at you with wide eyes, "I'm sorry... hyung." His hangs his head and you're not sure what to do. You've never had anyone call you hyung before.

"Umm, its okay. Just be nice, alright?"

"Okay," he smiles at you and you can't help but smile back.

You bend over to poke at the fire again, but you're startled when Kyuhyun shouts, "Hyung, catch!"

You jump out of the way of the stick and stare at where its landed a few feet away from you.

You look back at Kyuhyun in confusion, "How come you're aim's so bad?"

He shrugs and you shrug and walk over to retrieve the stick. When you get back to the fire, Kyuhyun is smirking again.

You furrow your brow in confusion - what's so funny? - before you realize.

"I'm not your dog!"

 

285

"What's the plan?" Hankyung asked, patting his pockets for his keys.

Dong Wook sighed and shrugged, dragging his feet against the pebbled trail.  "Why does he have to be like that, hyung?"

"Like what?  A brat?  Its his nature.  Don't think too much on it.  It'll give you a headache."

"...Fine," he sighed again as they came up to the three sitting on the curb.  "What do you guys need to do?"

Looking up from his notebook, Changmin smiled.  "Hyung deul!  You're back, and in whole pieces," he greeted.  "Can we get ice cream?"

Dong Wook grinned and ruffled the younger's hair.  "Sure, why not.  Where's Jae hyung?"

"Don't know," was his response as Changmin gathered his papers up.

"I think he's on a date.  With a Yunho," Hankyung said, his face scrunched up as he studied the underside of Dong Wook's car.

"Jae hyung and Yunho hyung are together?"

Junsu smacked himself in the forehead with the flat of his palm.  "My God, Yoochun.  Are you that love struck that you didn't notice?"

Yoochun glared, "Well, I just thought they weren't together, together.  You know, like they are but not."

"You mean, they are but they both don't know it?" Changmin pondered, tapping his finger against his chin.

"Ah!" Yoochun jerked his hand up to point at his boyfriend, "That's exactly it!"  Changmin grinned sheepishly as Yoochun wrapped him in his arms.  "Min, you're so smart!"

"Your car is dead, just so you know," Hankyung said, straightening up from his stooped position.

"Yeah?" Dong Wook sighed.  "Figured that."

Changmin pulled out of Yoochun's grasp but made sure to hold his hand.  "Hyung, we need to go grocery shopping.  Shiki hyung wants duck eggs."

Hankyung hmphed, "Can't have Shiki bitching about food."

**********

"Are you hungry?" Jaejoong asked, opening the refrigerator door and peering inside.  "I can make something."

"Hmmm," Yunho yawned as he stretched his arms over his head.  "If you want," he followed Jaejoong to the sink and watched as the elder rummaged through the cupboards.

Retrieving a pack of ramen, Jaejoong shut the cupboard doors.  "We can share a pack of ramen-" he turned and gasped, backing into the counter as far as he could with Yunho standing a scant few inches from him.

Swallowing hard, Jaejoong bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes.  He felt an arm wrap around his waist and Yunho's hand on his face, his thumb brushing against his lips.

Yunho leaned in close and rested his head on Jaejoong's shoulder.  "If you want," he murmured softly, turning slightly to nuzzle at Jaejoong's neck.

"Yeah," Jaejoong breathed, "I want."

***

Changmin wrapped his arms more securely around Yoochun's waist and leaned closer to whisper, "Do you trust me?"

Yoochun closed his eyes and spread his arms, "Yes, I trust you." he whispered back.

"Ah!  Look!" Junsu let go of the shopping cart to point, "Lucky Charms!"

Yoochun's eyes popped open and his mouth opened in a silent scream.  The rolling shopping cart he and Changmin had decided to reenact the famous Titanic scene on was heading straight towards a tower of Gatorade.

Changmin acted quickly, yanking Yoochun's arms down and grabbing his hand.  "Come on hyung, we have to jump ship!" he half shouted.

Adrenaline pumping through him, Yoochun gripped Changmin's hand in his and bent his knees.  "Don't let go."

"I'll never let go."

They jumped, landing hard and stumbling a few steps away and landing on their butts.  Hearing the shopping cart slam into the display, the two turned back, both gasping as the stacked Gatorade bottles wobbled slightly.

The single Gatorade bottle at the very top of the tower fell, and the tower stilled.  The acting couple sighed in unison.

"Hmm?" Junsu came into view, pushing the shopping cart that had rebounded back into the aisle, an open box of Lucky Charms riding the baby seat.  Peering curiously at the two on the floor, he tripped over the bottle of Gatorade.

"Ahh!" a high pitched cry escaped from his lips, and he stumbled, ramming the shopping cart into the tower.

***

Dong Wook scoffed, "Of course you wouldn't know anything about this school."

Changshik glared, "What's that supposed to mean? he snarled.

Smirking, Dong Wook settled himself on the floor of the roof, "Nothing."  He studied the seething transfer student and smiled, "This school has a tradition.  Seeing as we're actually one of the worst public schools in Seoul, there used to be quite a bit of violence here, especially back some twenty-thirty years ago.  Now, of course there were gangs that fought for control over this school, but control fluctuated so often, it hardly mattered who the current king was.  That is, until a little geek thought up this idea."

Sweeping his arm wide to encompass all of the roof, he continued, "The roof is the king's domain, so he must show he has no fear of it.  Quite a few gang leaders lost their lives in gang fights over ruler ship by being thrown over the fences.  So, the one test to determine rule over the entire school was simple, clap as many times as you lean and fall over the edge."

"...and the winner is the one with the most claps?" Changshik asked slowly.

Dong Wook hummed, "That's right.  Well, the winner is the one with the most claps that lives."  He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, "There are a few more rules, but that's basically it.  It used to be only gang leaders who could rule, but the tradition has become much more democratic with time.  Take me for example, I beat the record, seventeen claps."

A grin stretched across his face, he straightened and looked Changshik up and down, "Would you like to try?"

Changshik bared his teeth in a smile, "I'll take that challenge."

***




A/N:  I think the only way to finish this fic is if I write two scenes a day.  So, look forward to much more frequent updates.  If anyone can tell me the Japanese movie where I took the clapping idea from, that'd be great.

Also, if anyone would like to be my beta, leave a comment.  I'm just looking for someone to read the chapters through and to tell me if the characters are staying in character, since I haven't written this series for so long, I'm afraid I can't always remember everything that goes on.  And you would be able to read each chapter at least a week beforehand.

A/N:  Since I haven't posted anything for a good while, I figure I should try, again.  I think I'll finish this one...




"A cursed swamp?" you furrow your brows in confusion.  "I'm sorry, but that doesn't sound at all like my type of work."

You don't like how the elderly monk closes his eyes in exasperation.  You prop your chin on one hand and study the calligraphy upon the open scrolls laid out upon the head monk's desk.  You're a mercenary, exorcizing cursed swamps really isn't what you do.  Can swamps be exorcized?  Or just people?  Debespelled, perhaps?

You snap your head up when you hear a cough, blinking away the afterimage of the teacup you didn't realize you had been staring so hard at.

"There is more to this swamp than just a curse.  It moves.  Historical records tell us that there has been more than one moving swamp.  Its said a demon resides there.  There is always a demon involved in such instances," He sighs and shakes his head.  "Here," he grunts and bends his shaved head to rifle through a drawer.

You fidget, hating how he was taking his sweet time retrieving whatever it was.  There is a demon to kill, now is not the time to dilly-dally.

Plopping a small package wrapped in plain brown paper onto the table, he watches as you rip it open.

"What is it?" you ask, holding the pendant over your head.  The silver glints in the afternoon sun, flashing as the plain circular disk swung.

The monk leans back and steeples his fingers, "A charm..."

You shrug and slip it over your head.

"...against infatuation."

You blink, raising a brow, "Why would I need such a thing?"

"The villagers told me that people have gone missing in that swamp, led away by something.  At first, they thought it might have been water horses.  But that was only when the young ones began disappearing.  But then the adults that went off to search for them came back strange.  Not wishing to eat, not wishing to do anything.  They would disappear at night, turning up the next morning seeming wistful.  Love struck."

"Love struck?" you scoff.  "Its just a succubus."

"No, men and women alike have been love bound to this demon.  They go home for about a week, and disappear in the night, and are never seen again," he leans forward, lowering his voice comparatively.  "They always rave of an irresistible beauty in that swamp, the night before they disappear."

"What's the plan?" Hankyung asked, patting his pockets for his keys.

Dong Wook sighed and shrugged, dragging his feet against the pebbled trail. "Why does he have to be like that, hyung?"

"Like what? A brat? Its his nature. Don't think too much on it. It'll give you a headache."

"...Fine," he sighed again as they came up to the three sitting on the curb. "What do you guys need to do?"

Looking up from hihs notebook, Changmin smiled. "Hyung deul! You're back, and in whole pieces," he greeted. "Can we get ice cream?"

Dong Wook grinned and ruffled the younger's hair. "Sure, why not. Where's Jae hyung?"

"Don't know," was his response as Changmin gathered his papers up.

"I think he's on a date. With a Yunho," Hankyung said, his face scrunched up as he studied the underside of Dong Wook's car.

"Jae hyung and Yunho hyung are together?"

Junsu smacked himself in the forehead with the flat of his palm. "My God, Yoochun. Are you that lovestruck that you didn't notice?"

Yoochun glared, "Well, I just thought they weren't together, together. You know, like they are but not."

"You mean, they are but they both don't know it?" Changmin pondered, tapping his finger against his chin.

"Ah!" Yoochun jerked his hand up to point at his boyfriend, "That's exactly it!" Changmin grinned sheepishly as Yoochun wrapped him in his arms. "Min, you're so smart!"

"Your car is dead, just so you know," Hankyung said, straightening up from his stooped position.

"Yeah?" Dong Wook sighed. "Figured that."

Changmin pulled out of Yoochun's grasp but made sure to hold his hand. "Hyung, we need to go grocery shopping. Shiki hyung wants duck eggs."

Hankyung hmphed, "Can't have Shiki bitching about food."

**********

"Are you hungry?" Jaejoong asked, opening the refridgerator door and peering inside. "I can make something."



jae's scar

grocery shopping

mem of shiki and dong wook on roof, history of school. clapping, fighting. kingdom.

jae's scar

shiki in infirmary with the student council

shiki and dong wook's first real fight

mem taiwan jerry yan, shiki's promise to protect min, 'i don't like to owe people anything' 'pay me back, take care of min'

the king's court

min and chun, su and kyung and dong wook.

shiki leaves, student council talk about dong wook.

Han Geng Dong Wook interlude

body guard

"Appa, you wanted to talk to me?"

min and chun, late night tutoring session

paintball hicky, shrimp chips

mem dong wook and shiki getting together, and fight, and x and shiki's hip scar, accident

next day, rumours of the beat down, the cheating, the living together

nominations are announced. uncomfortability, marumir confesses and apologizes.

min and chun kissing in the hall

jae is all like, 'what?'

shiki, suspension is over? basketball depression. eunhae.

visit to the old apartment. train jumping.






meme han geng and dong wook meeting. hired bodyguard.



Han Geng and grocery shopping.

***


they conclude that jae is cheating on yunho with dong wook. they recognize dong wook as the mayor's son, he's only been seen recently on the cf's for his dad's pres campaign.

they decide they can't tell yunho, cause they wouldn't want to get in trouble with the mayor's possibly the pres's son.



paintball hickey. shrimp chips.






"Hey! Look, Dong Wook's on TV!"

"So who do you think will win?"

"Well, I have to say, the most entertaining contestant so far has been that Kim Changshik character.



"Yah! Fucker! Get the hell up here! I'm gonna beat your ass down!"






Dong Wook smirked when he heard the knock on his window. Rolling his head and stretching a moment, he got up and walked to the window, pulling the blinds up to see Changshik's glaring face.

"Did you get me anything?" he asked once he'd unlocked and pulled open the window.

Scoffing, Changshik climbed through the window and toed his shoes off. "Like I would get you anything," he said, dropping a plastic bag on the bed in the middle of the room before making for the bathroom on the other side of the hall.

Rifling through the bag, Dong Wook smirked as a red bag dropped. "Hey! Shrimp chips, my favorite. Thanks."

"They were on sale," Changshik muttered, coming back from the bathroom and shrugging his blazer off before plopping onto the bed.

Throwing the snacks onto his desk, Dong Wook glanced over as he reseated himself. "Hey, you know the rules, no pants on the bed."

Grabbing a pillow, Changshik covered his face with it and groaned, "Then take them off for me."

Grinning widely at the invitation, Dong Wook crawled over and yanked the offending pants off. Stradling the other, he fumbled at the shirt buttons, but a pair of hands stopped him. Freezing, he looked up into glaring eyes.

"Just the pants."

His fingers loosened and his eyes caught something. Eyes narrowing, he ran a hand over the side of Changshik's neck, "What are these circular bruises?"

Pushing his hands away, Changshik closed his eyes and snapped "Don't touch me."

****************************











A/N: If anyone can understand where I'm going after reading those notes, tell me. I can't seem to write and
I'm also stuck on few suju oneshots as well. Maybe just having someone to talk to about ideas will help me with the physical typing bit of the writing process.

Just a snippet.  Until I get around to writing the rest of it.*



Dong Wook smirked when he heard the knock on his window.  Rolling his head and stretching a moment, he got up and walked to the window, pulling the blinds up to see Changshik's glaring face.

"Did you get me anything?" he asked once he'd unlocked and pulled open the window.

Scoffing, Changshik climbed through the window and toed his shoes off.  "Like I would get you anything," he said, dropping a plastic bag on the bed in the middle of the room before making for the bathroom on the other side of the hall.

Rifling through the bag, Dong Wook smirked as a red bag dropped.  "Hey!  Shrimp chips, my favorite.  Thanks."

"They were on sale," Changshik muttered, coming back from the bathroom and shrugging his blazer off before plopping onto the bed.

Throwing the snacks onto his desk, Dong Wook glanced over as he reseated himself.  "Hey, you know the rules, no pants on the bed."

Grabbing a pillow, Changshik covered his face with it and groaned, "Then take them off for me."

Grinning widely at the invitation, Dong Wook crawled over and yanked the offending pants off.  Stradling the other, he fumbled at the shirt buttons, but a pair of hands stopped him.  Freezing, he looked up into glaring eyes.

"Just the pants."

His fingers loosened and his eyes caught something.  Eyes narrowing, he ran a hand over the side of Changshik's neck, "What are these circular bruises?"

Pushing his hands away, Changshik closed his eyes and snapped "Don't touch me."

Well, those two weeks are long gone, and I still haven't gotten around to writing the next chapter of When you're sick and can't get up...  I also need to think up a different title for that...  Well, I had spring break, and when it was over, I became very lazy.  Then, once midterms were over, I had to catch up with History, and then I found out the dates for my finals, and now, I'm just trying to stay alive.  The sad thing is, its not the work, or the amount of work that I have, its the fact that I have to do it...  that gets me...

So, I highly doubt there will be updates for any fics for a while.


To Do List:

1.  WYSACGU 15 pt 2, 16, 17
2.  Dong Wook, Hankyung interlude for WYSACGU
3.  Shiwon interlude for Once Upon a Time
4.  Kihae interlude for Yunchun fic
5.  Yunchun fic pt 3
6.  IIDKB 7, 8, 9

Hopefully when school's out in a few weeks... May 20th? I'll update a lot more often.

Title: Once Upon a Time
Length: One shot
Author: liang_xing_xing
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Pairings: None
Words: 1325

Rewrite of miracle______ 's 2008 au contest entry.

People didn't really get the supernatural vibe of it the last rewrite.  So, here it is, again.  I think it really is better this time.



Kibum




You're on the bed and the window is open. The cold air blows in, unhindered by curtains and you shiver. You've pulled the blankets past your feet and they've been nibbled on by the night. The grandfather clock in the hall chimes four times.

You remember the reason of your rude awakening. You had a strange dream or perhaps a better term would be 'nightmare.' Something about yogurt. You don't quite remember the dream. You know you never much liked yogurt.

You slip out of the covers slowly, making sure not to cause anymore unnecessary chill. You set your feet on the floor a moment before you yank them back, biting back a yelp.

You stare at the floor and realize that its wooden floorboards are just as cold as the rest of the room. You shouldn't walk around barefoot. But where are your fuzzy cow slippers?

You drop on your hands and knees, searching under the bed for your precious slippers. You find only cobwebs and dust bunnies.

You search the closet, reminiscent of a little child looking for a forgotten teddy bear. Your slippers remain elusive.

You walk down the hall into the kitchen. The soles of your feet seem to stick to the hardwood floor and then to the linoleum. You tiptoe to the refrigerator and open it a crack, giving the little man in the bulb some time to turn on the light. You pull the door open completely and sure enough, the light glares brightly into your eyes.

Taking out a box of chocolate chip cookies and a bottle of soymilk, you shut the door and wait for the wave of darkness to settle over the kitchen cabinets and sink, table and floor. Setting the cookies and milk on the table, you stride to the windows and pull the shades up, letting the moonlight pool around the trash can and bounce on the ladles and faucet.

Curling up in a chair with your knees up to your chin, you break a cookie in half, and half again, wiggling your toes back to life.

***

You watch the sky lighten from your living room couch, bouncing a small rubber ball against the floor and wall.  The myriad of colors on its rainbow surface swirl with each bounce, dizzying to your eyes.  You catch it as it returns, repeating the actions again and again and again.

The sun remains hidden behind clouds of muted silver when you rise, limbs tense from boredom, and grasp the ball in your hand.

You bounce it against the floor as you leave, losing it when you turn to close the door.  Your hand slips from the knob and you watch the ball disappear from sight.  Its bounces verberate through the walls.  It stops and the silence echoes up the stairs to your ears.

You trudge down the stairs with eyes on your feet, with fingertips trailing over the pale blue walls and nails tapping on the black steel railing.

Streaks of sunlight peak through the holes in the walls, and the fifth floor resident stands beside his open door with a hand extended, your ball in the palm of his hand.

You bend your knees and jump down a level, plucking the ball from his palm and pocketing it with a smile.

He smiles back before turning away, entering his apartment as quickly as his feet will allow him, the stone crawling up his knees as he closes the door.

***

You sit on the counter, right next to the cash register, and watch the humans interact; idle chatter fills the coffee shop.  Cold bleeds through the glass, the white breath of fog blanketing the windows.

You watch the mischievous redhead jump on stools and blow hard on various mugs. He laughs as his victims clutch their mugs tighter and scrunch their brows in confusion at the sudden chill.

He looks at you and grins widely, pointed teeth glinting in the fluorescent lights, whipping his spiked tail behind him with a crack.

You look away when he sticks his foot out to trip the new waitress, but hear the crash and cry that follows.

He jumps onto a table and sticks his tongue out at you when you shake your head in disapproval.

You kick your feet lightly under the counter, wincing when one foot connects with a middle-aged businessman's knee.  He stumbles, clutching at the table's edge for support, and stares down at his perfectly pressed slacks.  Bewildered, he places his order and leaves, muttering under his breath about a doctor's appointment.

The red haired imp snickers.

***

There is only one broken seat in the whole theatre, its seat unable to be pushed up.  A hard-eyed brunet sits on it, with his feet on the cushion, munching away at a chocolate bar.

You sit beside him and watch the feature film in silence. You listen to the snarky comments he yells at the screen, in a crowd of people who can't hear him.

His forked tongue flicks out and he hisses at the group of teenagers throwing popcorn.      You place a hand on his shoulder and feel him relax slightly, eyes still narrowed in a glare.  You give him a chocolate bar and leave, not wishing to see the damage a snake of Euryale would do.

Rain patters against the cement when you exit the sliding glass doors.

***

You walk down the middle of the road, avoiding foot traffic.  You jump out of the way when cars roll by, dodging the water droplets sprayed from their tires.

The black tar is slick and you can't wait to see the rainbows that will later form in the puddles.  The relentless pounding of the rain can't drown out the rush of the river under the grates. The people that you pass on your way home all carry bleak black umbrellas.

They see right through you.

***

You arrive home soaking wet, to the paint chipped walls and creaking stairs and a leaking roof. The hall lights are dark.

Your window is broken and water drips from the ledge.

The rain has stopped and the sun is out and you don't know where your slippers are.

***

Your spare bedroom is dark, day and night.  The balcony faces the modest garden; creeping vines push themselves through the gaps of broken glass, the latticework door a wall of crawling ivy that obscures the sun.  The elements of rain and heat, dust and time had created a carpet of moss that stretches to the closet at the opposite wall.

The walls are stained with age, one pale rectangle telling of a time where light had once ventured.  The picture frame is long gone and you can't seem to remember what it had framed.

The skeleton of the bed frame casts shadows on the walls, faint lines of black in the relative darkness.  Your fingers ghost over its twisted metal, rubbing away at the dust upon the spire at its head.

Glass shards decorate the weathered nightstand.  A hair ribbon and a handful of paper stars sit in the half opened drawer, now faded and merged into a spider's nest.

You walk to the balcony and lean against the rail.  The moss is soft beneath your feet and the stone hard against your back.  The air shifts as the deep orange sun begins its slow trek downhill and under the horizon.  The sky darkens and a warm breeze blows past, shaking branches and yanking leaves.

You can see the gargoyle from the fifth floor rise from his thoughtful position on his parapet, the stone crumbling into dust as he stretches.

He jumps down to the patch of weeds beneath his window and leaps over the tall black fence to the street.  Shadows dance around him as his wings flutter and he walks away with his hands in his pockets.

You wonder where he goes each night.










Imp Heechul, Snake Yesung, Gargoyle Shiwon