exo drabble collection ii
exo drabble collection ii
xiuhan
pg to pg-13; au/ar, horror, hurt/comfort
i. while art is fueled by emotions, great art is fueled by rage
Luhan has a garden; he very much likes the garden and even though the work is grueling, he's come to appreciate it. He hadn't always had a knack for yardwork though. He actually never really got into it until last month. Last month, it seemed life had driven Luhan into the corner-his girlfriend broke it off with him, his boss fired him from his job, and his roommate, Lay, didn't bring up his end of the month's rent. The stress ended up beating Luhan into sulking on the couch, where an infomercial advertising healthy living played across the television screen.
Take control of your life, the host had said with a gummy smile.
The next few days, Luhan had spent his afternoons-free and long now that he was unemployed-tending to the small patch of dirt in front of his apartment. Almost strangely, Lay never seemed to return to the apartment. Some neighbors suspected that he bailed out after failing to pay rent; others assumed that Luhan had thrown him out, declaring him irresponsible. One woman claimed she heard the two friends engaged in a large dispute the night before Lay left.
And as the weeks flew by, Luhan's garden flourished; bright red poppies and pink-petaled roses sprung from the ground in thick clusters. The middle-aged women walking by would praise him, offering him cool pitchers of lemonade and warm plates of baked goods. He remembered one young lady that had brought him two bottles of Dole juice.
"You work for my brother, Yunho, right?"
"Not anymore. I got laid off about a month ago."
"Oh. Well, if you see him.. please call me."
"Will do."
"He's been gone for a week now..."
"That's odd."
"I think so, too."
It's early August when Luhan's ex drops by. It had been a month since they parted, hadn't it? Sulli's smiles seemed to have brightened since then. She is alone when she greets Luhan, and Luhan tries to adjust to the fact that Sulli is not linked arm to arm with another boy.
Her nose brushes against flower petals as she stoops downward. They talk for the first time and it's like a breath of fresh air. There's a subtle nostalgia in Luhan pressing his hands into the dirt while Sulli watches from the side, twiddling something in her hands. After a twenty minute chat, Luhan decides to invite Sulli in for some refreshments. They talk a little more.
"How did you get your garden to grow so well?"
"Ah, it's a secret."
"You've got to tell me; my mom's been dying for a flowerbed in front of our house."
"Come around to the back, and I'll show you."
Gardening is grueling work, Luhan thinks to himself as he dismembers Sulli's body. His hand hovers over her arm, and slowly trails over to her wrist. He reads her phone number engraved on the metal bracelet tag. He takes the bracelet as a souvenir and preserves the rest of the body into a black garbage bag. He places Sulli into a wheelbarrow and brings her out into the garden. He plants her little by little in the gaps between the flowerbeds. A middle-aged couple walking around the neighborhood call out to him and compliment his garden. He smiles.
Luhan has a garden; he very much likes the garden and even though the work is grueling, he's come to appreciate it.
ii. please show this child what love is-
The moon stood bright and high in the sky, casting a faint yellow glow on the small town below. They say there lived an ancient doll there, in that small town; legend had it the doll stalked the streets at night, preying on any children that happened to stray into the estranged municipal. The origin of the doll was very much scattered, although the most popular belief was that it was confined to earth as a punishment for a former crime. "An angel cursed with the body of a doll," they would say, "upon falling in love with a human. How truly unfortunate."
It was a dark, fateful night when a small child entered the empty town. The creak and crack of the doll's limbs drew the boy to the doll. It had been waiting for him, it seemed. The little boy did not falter even as the walking mannequin stepped out from the alleyway and into the moonlight-its clothes, once royal garments, were tattered; its appendages were bent at unsightly angles, making for a visible limp. There were burns decorating nearly every inch of its body, but the most severe damage seemed to lie upon its face.
Where a right eye would be was the remains of a gaping hole surrounded by red, twisting skin. Trailing from its right ear to its chin was a large gash revealing the doll's teeth. The doll moved towards the boy again, a wicked chuckle escaping from its lips.
"Why are you staring at me like that, little boy?"
The child stayed still, pulling down at the hood on his head. He looked to the ground and shuffled his feet.
"Would you like to hear a song, boy?"
The doll rose a broken arm, a makeshift sickle fastened to the end of its wrist. Rejection. It was used to that; humans would not bear to listen to its songs anymore, now that it was broken and ugly. The doll had not limited itself to killing children as the tall tale claimed; it had slain anyone that rejected it. If this boy were to push it away, reject it (just like the other humans), he would sleep as the other victims had. The doll brought its arm higher, ready to lay a killer swing.
"You'd do that.. for me?" The boy choked out with a smile, visible tears and snot trailing obnoxiously from his eyes and nose. "No one's ever done that for me before, Mr. Doll."
The doll withdrew its weapon. "Little boy... do you know what it means to be unloved? Hated? Despised?"
"Yes, yes, I do." The child pulled his hood from his head, and looked up at the doll with tears. There was a noticeable deformity on the boy's face-twisted, wrinkled skin imprinted itself on his cheeks and forehead. "I don't think I want to be alone anymore, Mr. Doll."
The doll bent down into a squat and patted the boy's head with an able hand. "Let me sing you a song, boy."
iii. you're like a lone pack of cigarettes sitting on the counter and i wish i could quit you
When he gets home, he is welcomed by the sight of a drunk Luhan passed out in the arms of a stranger. A pang of jealousy tugs at the corners of Minseok's heart; he never liked to subject himself to these types of feelings, especially since he and Luhan never really had a thing. Yet, looking down at Luhan's sleeping face and seeing his body entangled within the limbs of an unfamiliar younger boy-
"Hey, kid, wake up," Minseok whispers, tugging at the boy's shoulder with a little too much force.
He incidentally wakes Luhan up, who rubs his eyes lazily, squinting at the light on the ceiling. When Minseok is no longer a fuzzy concoction of peachy hues and hazel shades, he props himself onto his elbows and pats his escort on the chest a few times. He wakes up. Minseok heads to the kitchen to busy himself while the two exchange apathetic farewells. He rummages through the pantry in an attempt to take his mind off of Luhan. I shouldn't even care. Luhan has the right to do what he wants. The fingers on his right hand drums against the wooden shelf impatiently. We're not even together.
He feels a hand clap onto his shoulder. When he turns around, Luhan's boyish smile is there to greet him. Minseok scoffs, drawing his hand out of the pantry. He sets a box of macaroni and cheese on the countertop next to the stove. Luhan's fingers trail up and down his spine like a spider. He acts like this and yet...
"Sorry about that little mess earlier," Luhan says, a lack of guilt in his voice-rather, his tones are made up of light glints of laughter and delight. He buries his face into the back of Minseok's neck, like a child hiding behind their mother's skirt. "we were drinking a little and lost track of time."
Minseok wordlessly drains the unseasoned macaroni into a pot of water. Usually, Minseok was able to deal with Luhan's little boyfriends pretty well, but having to constantly watch him hand in hand with someone else again and again and again... it had broken him down a bit.
Luhan shifts himself so that his chin is resting on the older male's shoulder. He looks at him with doe eyes and smiles, "Are you okay?
Are you okay? It takes Minseok awhile to register Luhan's words because between simplistic phrases and playful chides, he is never quite sure what Luhan really means. Are you okay? Are you okay with me being with someone else? Are you okay that I may be sleeping with someone that is not you? Are you okay that we will never share a bond bordering past friendship? Minseok watches as the pasta dances around inside the pot.
"Yeah," he lies, laughing tiredly. "I'm fine."
"Good..." Luhan replies. His eyes crinkle into tiny crescents and his lips pull back in contentment. "I'll see you in the morning, I'm gonna go ahead and sleep."
"'Night."
"Good night."
And then it's just Minseok all alone. A sharp breath escapes his lips as he pounds a fist against the countertop. It shakes the pot and some of the boiling water spills onto the stove. The water cracks and fizzles against the heat. Grabbing a nearby kitchen towel, he wipes the excess water hapharzardly-burning himself in the process.
"Damn it," he mutters to himself bitterly. "Why do I put up with this abuse?"
Running his hand under the cool water, he isn't quite sure whether he is talking about the macaroni or Luhan.
iv. -seal his hands you hold with a gentle kiss
The moon stood bright and high in the sky, casting a faint yellow glow on the small town below. They say there lived an ancient doll there, in that small town; legend had it the doll stalked the streets at night, preying on any children that happened to stray into the estranged municipal. The origin of the doll was very much scattered, and with so many years come to pass, many often took the doll to be a hoax.
It was a dark, fateful night when a small child entered the empty town. The doll moved with such stealth that the little boy did not even realize he was there until the doll had made itself present to the child. (Had it been waiting for him?)
The moonlight hit the doll's face in such a lovely way, illuminating the doll's ivory skin and bringing its starry eyes to life. Soft gold hues shone on its cheeks as the doll brought a lit oil lamp up to its face. The moon had gone by now, hidden within a shield of clouds. It was as if the moon, suddenly ashamed, hid away upon seeing the doll's beauty. The child, too, was rendered speechless.
"Why are you staring at me like that, little boy?" The doll crouched down, looking the boy eye to eye. It smiled the loveliest of smiles. "Would you like to hear a song, boy?"
After the doll had sent the child off with a pack bulging with food and clothes, it returned to its estate in a crammed attic space inside the local clock tower. Previous ages before, the room had been but a beaten mattress accompanied by four walls. Now, it was packed to the ceiling with library books and little trinkets. Where there was once a lonely bed was a grandeur of sorts-four mattresses high with blankets of fleece and cotton layered on top.
"Luhan." A weak, gruff voice called out.
The doll, upon hearing its name, immediately took to the side of the bed.
"Come closer, Luhan."
It climbed the mountain of blankets and pillows, sitting itself next to the sick, elderly man resting on the bed. A twinkle shone in the old man's eye as the doll's face drew nearer to his. His lips parted to let out a weak laugh. The old man sighed, cupping the doll's cheek in his hand.
"Our time together.. has been quite long, hasn't it?" There was something of a nostalgic bitterness etched in the man's words. The doll remained silent, its brow slightly furrowed. Its lips quivered as if it was going to cry.
"I think," The old man swiped his thumb gently under the doll's eye-where a tear would have been if dolls were permitted to cry. "it has been long enough."
"Has it?" There was an obvious frustration present in the doll's voice. The doll pursed its lips and moved the old man's hand away, taking it in its own hand instead. "I have almost forgotten... how short a human's lifespan is. They seem to die only months after they are born."
"Luhan," the old man insisted, "ninety nine years is plenty enough."
Though dry, the doll continued rubbing at its eyes; its soft lips hardened into a tough line.
"Minseok, I don't think I want to be alone anymore..."
"Forgive me, Luhan."
a/n:
xiuhan
pg to pg-13; au/ar, horror, hurt/comfort
i. while art is fueled by emotions, great art is fueled by rage
Luhan has a garden; he very much likes the garden and even though the work is grueling, he's come to appreciate it. He hadn't always had a knack for yardwork though. He actually never really got into it until last month. Last month, it seemed life had driven Luhan into the corner-his girlfriend broke it off with him, his boss fired him from his job, and his roommate, Lay, didn't bring up his end of the month's rent. The stress ended up beating Luhan into sulking on the couch, where an infomercial advertising healthy living played across the television screen.
Take control of your life, the host had said with a gummy smile.
The next few days, Luhan had spent his afternoons-free and long now that he was unemployed-tending to the small patch of dirt in front of his apartment. Almost strangely, Lay never seemed to return to the apartment. Some neighbors suspected that he bailed out after failing to pay rent; others assumed that Luhan had thrown him out, declaring him irresponsible. One woman claimed she heard the two friends engaged in a large dispute the night before Lay left.
And as the weeks flew by, Luhan's garden flourished; bright red poppies and pink-petaled roses sprung from the ground in thick clusters. The middle-aged women walking by would praise him, offering him cool pitchers of lemonade and warm plates of baked goods. He remembered one young lady that had brought him two bottles of Dole juice.
"You work for my brother, Yunho, right?"
"Not anymore. I got laid off about a month ago."
"Oh. Well, if you see him.. please call me."
"Will do."
"He's been gone for a week now..."
"That's odd."
"I think so, too."
It's early August when Luhan's ex drops by. It had been a month since they parted, hadn't it? Sulli's smiles seemed to have brightened since then. She is alone when she greets Luhan, and Luhan tries to adjust to the fact that Sulli is not linked arm to arm with another boy.
Her nose brushes against flower petals as she stoops downward. They talk for the first time and it's like a breath of fresh air. There's a subtle nostalgia in Luhan pressing his hands into the dirt while Sulli watches from the side, twiddling something in her hands. After a twenty minute chat, Luhan decides to invite Sulli in for some refreshments. They talk a little more.
"How did you get your garden to grow so well?"
"Ah, it's a secret."
"You've got to tell me; my mom's been dying for a flowerbed in front of our house."
"Come around to the back, and I'll show you."
Gardening is grueling work, Luhan thinks to himself as he dismembers Sulli's body. His hand hovers over her arm, and slowly trails over to her wrist. He reads her phone number engraved on the metal bracelet tag. He takes the bracelet as a souvenir and preserves the rest of the body into a black garbage bag. He places Sulli into a wheelbarrow and brings her out into the garden. He plants her little by little in the gaps between the flowerbeds. A middle-aged couple walking around the neighborhood call out to him and compliment his garden. He smiles.
Luhan has a garden; he very much likes the garden and even though the work is grueling, he's come to appreciate it.
ii. please show this child what love is-
The moon stood bright and high in the sky, casting a faint yellow glow on the small town below. They say there lived an ancient doll there, in that small town; legend had it the doll stalked the streets at night, preying on any children that happened to stray into the estranged municipal. The origin of the doll was very much scattered, although the most popular belief was that it was confined to earth as a punishment for a former crime. "An angel cursed with the body of a doll," they would say, "upon falling in love with a human. How truly unfortunate."
It was a dark, fateful night when a small child entered the empty town. The creak and crack of the doll's limbs drew the boy to the doll. It had been waiting for him, it seemed. The little boy did not falter even as the walking mannequin stepped out from the alleyway and into the moonlight-its clothes, once royal garments, were tattered; its appendages were bent at unsightly angles, making for a visible limp. There were burns decorating nearly every inch of its body, but the most severe damage seemed to lie upon its face.
Where a right eye would be was the remains of a gaping hole surrounded by red, twisting skin. Trailing from its right ear to its chin was a large gash revealing the doll's teeth. The doll moved towards the boy again, a wicked chuckle escaping from its lips.
"Why are you staring at me like that, little boy?"
The child stayed still, pulling down at the hood on his head. He looked to the ground and shuffled his feet.
"Would you like to hear a song, boy?"
The doll rose a broken arm, a makeshift sickle fastened to the end of its wrist. Rejection. It was used to that; humans would not bear to listen to its songs anymore, now that it was broken and ugly. The doll had not limited itself to killing children as the tall tale claimed; it had slain anyone that rejected it. If this boy were to push it away, reject it (just like the other humans), he would sleep as the other victims had. The doll brought its arm higher, ready to lay a killer swing.
"You'd do that.. for me?" The boy choked out with a smile, visible tears and snot trailing obnoxiously from his eyes and nose. "No one's ever done that for me before, Mr. Doll."
The doll withdrew its weapon. "Little boy... do you know what it means to be unloved? Hated? Despised?"
"Yes, yes, I do." The child pulled his hood from his head, and looked up at the doll with tears. There was a noticeable deformity on the boy's face-twisted, wrinkled skin imprinted itself on his cheeks and forehead. "I don't think I want to be alone anymore, Mr. Doll."
The doll bent down into a squat and patted the boy's head with an able hand. "Let me sing you a song, boy."
iii. you're like a lone pack of cigarettes sitting on the counter and i wish i could quit you
When he gets home, he is welcomed by the sight of a drunk Luhan passed out in the arms of a stranger. A pang of jealousy tugs at the corners of Minseok's heart; he never liked to subject himself to these types of feelings, especially since he and Luhan never really had a thing. Yet, looking down at Luhan's sleeping face and seeing his body entangled within the limbs of an unfamiliar younger boy-
"Hey, kid, wake up," Minseok whispers, tugging at the boy's shoulder with a little too much force.
He incidentally wakes Luhan up, who rubs his eyes lazily, squinting at the light on the ceiling. When Minseok is no longer a fuzzy concoction of peachy hues and hazel shades, he props himself onto his elbows and pats his escort on the chest a few times. He wakes up. Minseok heads to the kitchen to busy himself while the two exchange apathetic farewells. He rummages through the pantry in an attempt to take his mind off of Luhan. I shouldn't even care. Luhan has the right to do what he wants. The fingers on his right hand drums against the wooden shelf impatiently. We're not even together.
He feels a hand clap onto his shoulder. When he turns around, Luhan's boyish smile is there to greet him. Minseok scoffs, drawing his hand out of the pantry. He sets a box of macaroni and cheese on the countertop next to the stove. Luhan's fingers trail up and down his spine like a spider. He acts like this and yet...
"Sorry about that little mess earlier," Luhan says, a lack of guilt in his voice-rather, his tones are made up of light glints of laughter and delight. He buries his face into the back of Minseok's neck, like a child hiding behind their mother's skirt. "we were drinking a little and lost track of time."
Minseok wordlessly drains the unseasoned macaroni into a pot of water. Usually, Minseok was able to deal with Luhan's little boyfriends pretty well, but having to constantly watch him hand in hand with someone else again and again and again... it had broken him down a bit.
Luhan shifts himself so that his chin is resting on the older male's shoulder. He looks at him with doe eyes and smiles, "Are you okay?
Are you okay? It takes Minseok awhile to register Luhan's words because between simplistic phrases and playful chides, he is never quite sure what Luhan really means. Are you okay? Are you okay with me being with someone else? Are you okay that I may be sleeping with someone that is not you? Are you okay that we will never share a bond bordering past friendship? Minseok watches as the pasta dances around inside the pot.
"Yeah," he lies, laughing tiredly. "I'm fine."
"Good..." Luhan replies. His eyes crinkle into tiny crescents and his lips pull back in contentment. "I'll see you in the morning, I'm gonna go ahead and sleep."
"'Night."
"Good night."
And then it's just Minseok all alone. A sharp breath escapes his lips as he pounds a fist against the countertop. It shakes the pot and some of the boiling water spills onto the stove. The water cracks and fizzles against the heat. Grabbing a nearby kitchen towel, he wipes the excess water hapharzardly-burning himself in the process.
"Damn it," he mutters to himself bitterly. "Why do I put up with this abuse?"
Running his hand under the cool water, he isn't quite sure whether he is talking about the macaroni or Luhan.
iv. -seal his hands you hold with a gentle kiss
The moon stood bright and high in the sky, casting a faint yellow glow on the small town below. They say there lived an ancient doll there, in that small town; legend had it the doll stalked the streets at night, preying on any children that happened to stray into the estranged municipal. The origin of the doll was very much scattered, and with so many years come to pass, many often took the doll to be a hoax.
It was a dark, fateful night when a small child entered the empty town. The doll moved with such stealth that the little boy did not even realize he was there until the doll had made itself present to the child. (Had it been waiting for him?)
The moonlight hit the doll's face in such a lovely way, illuminating the doll's ivory skin and bringing its starry eyes to life. Soft gold hues shone on its cheeks as the doll brought a lit oil lamp up to its face. The moon had gone by now, hidden within a shield of clouds. It was as if the moon, suddenly ashamed, hid away upon seeing the doll's beauty. The child, too, was rendered speechless.
"Why are you staring at me like that, little boy?" The doll crouched down, looking the boy eye to eye. It smiled the loveliest of smiles. "Would you like to hear a song, boy?"
After the doll had sent the child off with a pack bulging with food and clothes, it returned to its estate in a crammed attic space inside the local clock tower. Previous ages before, the room had been but a beaten mattress accompanied by four walls. Now, it was packed to the ceiling with library books and little trinkets. Where there was once a lonely bed was a grandeur of sorts-four mattresses high with blankets of fleece and cotton layered on top.
"Luhan." A weak, gruff voice called out.
The doll, upon hearing its name, immediately took to the side of the bed.
"Come closer, Luhan."
It climbed the mountain of blankets and pillows, sitting itself next to the sick, elderly man resting on the bed. A twinkle shone in the old man's eye as the doll's face drew nearer to his. His lips parted to let out a weak laugh. The old man sighed, cupping the doll's cheek in his hand.
"Our time together.. has been quite long, hasn't it?" There was something of a nostalgic bitterness etched in the man's words. The doll remained silent, its brow slightly furrowed. Its lips quivered as if it was going to cry.
"I think," The old man swiped his thumb gently under the doll's eye-where a tear would have been if dolls were permitted to cry. "it has been long enough."
"Has it?" There was an obvious frustration present in the doll's voice. The doll pursed its lips and moved the old man's hand away, taking it in its own hand instead. "I have almost forgotten... how short a human's lifespan is. They seem to die only months after they are born."
"Luhan," the old man insisted, "ninety nine years is plenty enough."
Though dry, the doll continued rubbing at its eyes; its soft lips hardened into a tough line.
"Minseok, I don't think I want to be alone anymore..."
"Forgive me, Luhan."
a/n:
- I picked random people to fit into Luhan's life, so whether I ship them or not.. who knows? Also, some things to clear up that might not have been clear: Yunho was Luhan's boss, Luhan killed people he believed to be the root of his problems and used their remains as fertilizer, he was able to garden and get by for a month without a job because.. he sold his flowers? I don't know, you're gonna have to fill in the blanks with this one. (Sorry.)
- The title of the drabble is the title of a very disturbing Vocaloid song.
- The doll story is based on the Ghost of Martel arc from D.Gray-Man. It's seriously the best, if you haven't watched it/read it, go do it because oh man your feels will be running all over the place.
- The headings for the doll story are lyrics from a song in D.Gray-Man called つないだ手にキスを, which is not related to the Ghost of Martel arc. However the title (Lala's Lullaby) is!
- The moon tidbit with Luhan outshining the moon with his beauty in the doll story is based on one of the Four Beauties of China, Diaochan.
- I was going to write a Xiumin-centric horror drabble too, so that the flow would kind of mirror itself (seperate horror drabble, doll story, pairing drablle, doll story, seperate horror drabble) but I got lazy and ditched it. I think I'll include it in the next drabble collection...
- Sorry for any awkward writing. My voice.. is not the greatest.
- Sorry for all the author's notes.