Sakura Ryouko

Picture Spam

Fri, 23 Oct 2009 01:29:01 GMT

I found a bunch of pictures on my computer that I never uploaded onto my livejournal, sooo, here they are: (WHY IS IT NOT BLACK. AND UNDERLINED. T . T )

At the Aki Matsuri (I went for my Japanese class)

Mmm... just a sketch.

PANDA. I drew it for my friend's birthday, then folded it into a butterfly, then decided it was too cute not to scan. XD

OMO~~

Sat, 15 Aug 2009 00:39:34 GMT

... It's been... I don't know how long since I've last posted an entry purely to rant or something, so this should be fun~

I HAVE A NEW OBSESSION. O.O
TOM FELTON IS SO FUCKING HOT. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. I'M SO PROUD OF MYSELF, MY FIRST NON-ASIAN CELEBRITY CRUSH/INFATUATION/WHATEVER-YOU-WANT-TO-CALL-IT IN 2 YEARS. LASDMF;IWOE'ENKL'DNVKW

I only came to this conclusion after (during) watching the HBP movie, although I was planning on completely skipping it. I didn't watch the fifth one (Order of Pheonix) because... well... frankly, The Goblet of Fire was really bad, and I didn't have high hopes for the next movies. At all. Of course, everybody else I knew went to watch it and started pestering me to see it, soooo, I eventually caved and went with my friends Amy, Tiffany, Grace, and Cindy.
And... I have to admit, it was definitely worth it. ~~AND NOT JUST BECAUSE I REALIZED HOW ATTRACTIVE TOM FELTON WAS~~. It was surprisingly amusing and exciting... plus, there were quite a few sexual innuendos and situations (other than the obvious pairings, because those make me cringe [other than RonxHermione, they're cute]. HarryxGinny... bleh) that kept me smiling throughout the movie. My personal favorite = SnapexDraco moments. 8DDD BLATANTLY BIASED FANGIRL IS BLATANT. AND BIASED. 8DDDDDDDDDDDD

On the other hand, I am ashamed of my sudden inclination to read HP fanfictions. I promised myself I would never, ever stray into the Harry Potter fandom, yet I've spent the past week reading them. O.O It took me four days to get through the first fanfiction, which was only 3 chapters long. XD
Somebody please shoot me now. I NEED INTERVENTION. FDLSFMEWOIFMEWFKM'SDLKMF *slaps self*

ON ANOTHER NOTE.
I GOT A NEW COMPUTER. YES. My old laptop was... well... old. And dilapidated. And probably only had like a month or so until it finally broke down and died on me. > < Muahahaha~~ Now I won't have my computer randomly shutting down on me while doing work or, god forbid, when reading my ghei pron. 8D

Last Farwell (Part 2 of 2)

Fri, 07 Aug 2009 04:00:04 GMT

Title: Last Farewell (Part 2 of 2)
Author: Harusstar
Pairing/Characters: No pairings, really, other than BFF!Kyuhyun/Yesung, Heechul, another character that can't be revealed...
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst/Slice of life, a bit of attempted humor in there...
Word Count: 2873, roughly
Disclaimer: Do not own~ If I did... I would not be wasting my time writing fanfictions
Warning: Swearing, character death, mentions of rape, violence... unbeta-ed...
Summary: Kyuhyun and Yesung, two rommates in college, have just heard about Heenim's suicide, a childhood friend of Yesung and a budding actor, but Kyuhyun believes their's something more to the story than what's being revealed. (lol, what... I'm ashamed of how terrible this summary is...)

Bleh... I know I said I'd have this up like late last week, but I've been busy. Plus school is coming up soon, so I need to put aside time to freak out daily. Plus, my laptop has been screwing up lately... > <
I'm sorry, I got sooo lazy... I took the easy way out at the end. XD

    “Kyuhyun, what happened to you?!” questions Yesung worriedly.

    Kyuhyun had eventually found his way back to the car, although it had taken longer than he originally thought it would. Upon arriving, he had been greeted by a very distraught Yesung and Taemin. It was only after he convinced Yesung to drop Taemin off at his older brother’s place rather than bringing him to their apartment did he agree to answer all of his questions.

    After having seen Taemin off already, the two roommates head back to their homely – not to mention safe, which was more than Kyuhyun could say about Heenim’s home – apartment. Kyuhyun bites his bottom lip in uncertainty before confessing, “I snuck into the apartment.”

    “You – what?!” Yesung practically screams, his eyes taking on an angry glint.

    “Wait, just hear me out. I know that was stupid of me, but look what I found.” Kyuhyun waves the notebook he stole from Heenim’s room in front of Yesung’s face, childishly trying to gain his friend’s attention. “It was in Heenim’s room. It’s his journal, and I think that if we look through this, we’ll be able to find out more about his suicide.”

    “But… it was just the stress of his work and the depression. That’s it.” Yesung frowns, his face contorting in confusion and indecision.

    “Right, that’s what the police said, but I think there’s more to this whole thing. I mean, did you see how shifty his manager was acting? There must be something behind that. Plus, right before I had to leave, I heard somebody else enter the apartment,” Kyuhyun tries to reason, but he knows he’s already won this argument by the expression on his companion’s face. “Why would anybody else try to sneak into their home?”

    “… Fine, we’ll go through it, but if we don’t find anything important by tomorrow, promise me you’ll gi—“ He doesn’t have the chance to finish before Kyuhyun throws his arms around Yesung’s shoulders and enthusiastically thanks him.

    “Hey, wait, get off me!” Yesung desperately tries to shrug the other off while concurrently avoiding crashing the vehicle into anything.

    It’s evening when they get back to the apartment, and soon they are both poring over the diary at their kitchen table, although it doesn’t help much as nothing is written clearly nor seem to have any straightforward meaning. Their only significant discoveries are the fact that he wrote every day, with the exception of a day or two carelessly torn out here and there. In addition to this, Kyuhyun takes note of the only legible name in the entire journal other than Heenim’s, although all the other content on that same page is almost illegible.

    “Who’s ‘Shin Donghee?” he mumbles, puzzled.

    Yesung only shrugs in response, his expression just as bewildered.

    “I’ll go look it up.” He immediately heads off to the adjoining living room and logs onto their shared computer as Kyuhyun moves on to mulling over the ripped pages. Repeatedly flipping from each torn entry to the next, he strains to pick up on any possible pattern in Heenim’s choice of dates.

    He briefly considers why Heenim would have torn out these specific pages, and so many of them. If it were something he didn’t want others to read, then he wouldn’t have written them down in his journal in the first place – there was always a chance that somebody would come across it like he had, especially since he wasn’t home most of the day. ‘Then somebody else must have done it. Huh, but why?’

    Nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek, Kyuhyun flips through the notebook cursorily and then stops at the very back of the book. That’s when he notices how there’s a slight bump on the inside of the back cover. After a moment of thought, he comes to the realization that it has a flap… like an envelope.

    Eyes widening immensely, he slowly lifts the flap and slides a slip of paper out from the pocket. Kyuhyun unfolds the paper, unsuccessfully trying to retain his excitement. Warily flattening it out onto the kitchen table, he scans the neat handwriting for anything worth noticing and immediately discovers that it is a list of names and dates. At the bottom of the list is the name ‘Shin Donghee’ once again, although his name has no date alongside it, and neither does the one above his.

    Just then Yesung comes speeding into the kitchen, completely breaking Kyuhyun’s train of thought. “Hey, Kyuhyun, what did you say the manager’s name was, again?”

    “Umm…” Kyuhyun blanks out for a second. “He said his name was Daniel Lee. Why?”

    Kyuhyun looks up to see his roommate gazing intently at a sheet of paper he probably printed off of the Internet.

    “Well, according to this, Heenim’s manager’s name is Shin Donghee,” Yesung informs the other. Slamming the paper down onto the table, he makes a grab for the journal and turns directly to the page where they had found the name while Kyuhyun goes back to looking over the paper he found.

    From the top to about the middle of the list names were crossed off. Not just crossed off – they were angrily scribbled out, the names barely legible anymore. Growling in frustration, Kyuhyun instead focuses his attention on the names below these.

    ‘Andy Lacy… Peter Gotama… why do they sound so familiar?’ Frowning, he turns back to face Yesung.

    “Sungie, do these names mean anything to you?” Kyuhyun rotates the paper so that the other could see. The latter looks over the book he was just looking at. “There’s something familiar about a few, but I can’t recall why…”

    “Hmm… Oh, well, that name, right below the last one crossed off there, is the producer of the movie Heenim was supposed to film soon,” he points out. “He doesn’t have a good reputation. I heard he was caught molesting a teenage boy he claimed he thought was a girl a couple years back.” Kyuhyun grimaces at the thought.

    “That’s terrible. God, why does he still have his job?”

    “I’m not sure. Anyways, here, look at this page again,” Yesung replies. “You can’t read much, but look at this!”

    Getting up from his seat, Kyuhyun comes to look over his friend’s shoulder at the open journal. ‘ ‘Why… forced to do…’ What does that mean…?’

    After minutes of frustrated analyzing, Kyuhyun moves back to his seat and drops his head into the palm of his hands and massages his temples. “All right, let’s just list everything that we know at the moment. One, there is something more to Heenim’s suicide than his depression. Two, his manager is definitely hiding something. Three, this list of names and that entry must have something in common, or else his name wouldn’t be on both,” he thoughtfully said. “Plus, whoever broke into the house after me must have had some sort of purpose. They were heading to Heenim’s room, so they must fit in to this whole situation somehow…”

    Yesung nods to show his understanding. “Sure, but, now all we need to know is why, and how this all comes together.”

    Groaning, Kyuhyun only lets his head drop onto their kitchen table as a response. ‘Maybe we don’t have enough information to come to a conclusion yet….' he thinks dejectedly as he feels his earlier excitement dwindle to discouragement and irritation. Sighing, he once again racks over everything they had talked about before and after their recent discoveries. Thinking back to the list, he lifts his head in sudden inspiration and picks up the piece of paper.

    Once he had quickly scanned the names for the third time that day, he snatches the journal unceremoniously from Yesung’s clasp and heads from the computer without any explanation.

    Knowing better than to interrupt Kyuhyun, not that it would make much of a difference since he would just ignore any distractions anyways, Yesung curiously heads in the same direction and calmly waits at the threshold connecting the kitchen and living room.

    Just as he is about to burst from the unbearable tension, an alarmed Yesung jolts when Kyuhyun jumps from his seat in front of the laptop.

    “… Oh god,” he whispers as he rushes to scrawl something onto the back of the list from the journal. “Let’s go, Sungie, we’re going to visit ‘Daniel Lee’.”

~.~.~.~

    Kyuhyun stands outside an enormous house and looks up from the paper with Shin Donghee’s address on it. Bracing himself for the worst, he rings the doorbell to the right of the fuchsia door. He hears Yesung take a deep breath beside him.

    Moments later the door opens to reveal the pale and frightened face of Heenim’s manager. “… Yes, can I help you two?” he inquires cautiously, as if he didn’t trust them. As if he was hiding something.

    “Mm, yes, I think you can,” Kyuhyun responds, pasting a fake smile onto his face. “Do you mind if we come in?”

    The man nods after slight hesitation, steps aside, and motions both of the teenagers into his home. Kyuhyun grins reassuringly to Yesung and then skips through the doorway. Yesung rolls his eyes, but follows his roommate anyways.

    “So…” Kyuhyun begins, purposely keeping a threatening smirk on his face. “Shin Donghee, what do you know about Heenim’s death?”

    Donghee’s mouth drops open and incredulity comes over his round face, but this is soon taken over by aggression and anger.

    “How do you know that name?” he snaps in fury. “What do you know?!”

    “Well, for starters, I know that you’re the one who tore out those pages in Heenim’s journal. If they had remained there, anybody who happened to come by his notebook would know exactly what was going on.” Kyuhyun lets his grin drop and stares intently at the infuriated man as his eyes widen even more. “Unfortunately, you didn’t get to this last piece of paper Heenim stored away in a hidden envelope. It has everything – the names and the dates, which just happen to correspond exactly with the ripped out journal entries. Each gap left by the torn out entries would equal exactly the amount of days skipped before the next time he wrote. You were worried that you had missed something, so you tried to get away from that police officer and me as quickly as possibly, then turned back around when you figured we had both left so that you could sneak back into Heenim’s room to take—”

    Before he can even finish his entire explanation, the manager spontaneously breaks down into tears. Yesung looks at Kyuhyun in surprise. ‘That’s not supposed to happen…’

    The manager continues to sob and splutter incoherently until Yesung steps up to him and rests his hands on his shoulder in attempt to calm him down.

    “Just… tell us what happened, all right?” he slowly orders when he finally begins to regain his composure.

    Wiping away his remaining tears, he nods and then motions the other two back further into his house, leading them upstairs and into a room filled primarily of bookshelves. Immediately he heads for a small box in the far left corner, opens it, and lifts out a packet of what seems to be letters. Then Kyuhyun notices the ripped edges. Rushing up to the man he carefully takes them from his unsteady grasp and unfolds the first paper. Soon Yesung comes up behind his and reads over the first journal entry with him. Then the next, and the next.

    They were horrible. These were much less journal entries than hopeless documents describing exactly what had occurred each day. Any other part of the content were much different from the others – straightforward, blunt, and didn’t have that vague style he seemed to fond of in his other entries. Not that Kyuhyun blames him – everything that happened to him was more than enough to put him out of a poetic mood anytime.

    Kyuhyun shivers at the gruesome images that each page depicts with unnervingly meticulous detail and overwhelming emotion. Instead of forcing himself to endure it he skips down to one of the less explicit paragraphs farther down the entry he is currently reading.

‘November 3, 2006
    … It’s days like these that I just hate the world. Hate my management company for forcing me to give up everything so they can get credit for my successful career. Hate these egotistical producers, directors, and CEO’s that think that only way to determine my talent is to force themselves on me. Hate my family and friends for not noticing that I’ve been hurting for so long. But, perhaps the one I hate the most is myself, for allowing this all to happen, and for being too weak to stop it.
    But, it’s also days like these that I’m so glad to have somebody to confide in. Journals aren’t something you can talk to, much less something that can comfort you. I… I don’t know what I would do if it weren’t for Donghee…'

    “What kind of company forces their actors to sleep with random men to have a successful career?” Yesung growls in anger. He turns to Kyuhyun, startled by his lack of surprise. “You didn’t already know about this, did you?”

    Kyuhyun gently sets down the stack of journal entries and replies, “I had a hint… the names on the list and the torn out pages were connected, I knew that much. Earlier, before we left, I looked up all of the names on this list that weren’t crossed out yet, and it turned out that all of the names were those of producers and directors of movies Heenim was meant to star in. So, I figured that all the crossed out ones were the same.

    “Also, when I compared the dates and the journal entries before and after the ones that were ripped out, it turned at that they corresponded perfectly… and exactly one date before the day he started to film a new movie or TV show, according to all of the subsequent entries. I never really found out what was happening, though. The only things I knew that hinted anything was the information you had on one of the producers for Heenim’s future movie and the content of one of his journal entries. So, really, I was just pretending to know what I was talking about earlier in order to get him to talk.” Looking up at Donghee he grins at his shocked expression. “Although, honestly, I figured you’d be one of the criminals, not his confider.”

    The manager nods with an air of relief. “He came to me… about two weeks after the second time. I had no idea about it, but the management agency did. Yet they refused to help her. There was nothing I could do, though, I don’t have that kind of power, it’s just—“ Nervousness once again begins to take over him and he cuts off to take large breaths.

    “It’s all right. Calm down,” Kyuhyun says, comfortingly. “Just, promise us that you’ll reveal all of this information to the police. Here, take this.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out the policeman’s business card and hands it over to the manager. He lets another smile grace his features when he nods cooperatively in response. Yesung, on the other hand, is still staring at the journal entries, concentration etched across his face.

    Donghee glances awkwardly around the room with the business card still in his hand. “I’m sorry, but, I think I should go wash myself up a bit,” he eventually announces. “Please, stay as long as you like. I won’t be a moment…” His words trail off as he shuffles out of the doorway and into the wide hallway. Once he leaves, Kyuhyun sighs and leans back against one of the bookcases.

    ‘Everything’s all right now, Heenim… right?’

    His thoughts are sharply interrupted by a deafening crash that seems to come from the kitchen downstairs. Kyuhyun momentarily wonders why he would be in the kitchen if he claimed to be going to “wash up”, but immediately dispels his suspicions. Besides, there was a sink in the kitchen. To take his mind off the matter, he looks towards Yesung, who is still carefully examining the diary pages.

    “What’s the matter, Sungie?” asks Kyuhyun, concern lacing through his voice.

    It takes a few moments for Yesung to put down the pieces of paper and look up at him. Kyuhyun feels his blood pump faster at his friend’s frightened eyes and quickly becomes alert once again.

    “… Kyuhyun… didn’t you noticed how the style of writing isn’t the same? Well… this handwriting doesn’t match the ones we found in the journal, either,” he breathily whispers. “Kyuhyun, Heenim didn’t write these.”

    “Wha—what the hell do you mean by “Heenim didn’t write these”, Yesung?!”

    But he gets no response. One second, Yesung was staring at Kyuhyun, his pupils dilated from fear, and the next he is sprawled across the floor, facedown with the hilt of a huge kitchen knife sticking out from his once glossy black hair that is now stained with red blossoms of blood.

    Kyuhyun doesn’t even have time to scream.

HA, I told you the ending is so cheap... I hope the few readers enjoyed it anyways and aren't too confused... I should (hopefully) have another more romantic fanfiction up sometime before school starts. It'll probably be angsty and violent, though. XD

Happy Belated Anniversary to SNSD~!

Fri, 07 Aug 2009 03:25:53 GMT

In celebration of their anniversary... my overly-obsessed friend made me do something for them, and so I did fanart... it sucks, but he's satisfied. I, myself, am not a huge fan of SNSD, but it was fun nonetheless. At least until my hand started to cramp up. And the fact that it took me at least 5 hours per picture didn't make me very happy, to say the least.

I used an amateur method of enlarging the pictures using a grid, and I was too lazy to erase the lines, nor go over the drawing in pen, so it's very rough and sketchy. Not to mention anime-ified. XD

Original:

Drawing:

Original:

Drawing:

Taeyeon + Face Paint = WIN

Thu, 30 Jul 2009 23:44:19 GMT

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If the video doesn't fully show up... I'm sorry.. .because that's what it looked like in the preview, and I don't know how to fix it. Just double click the video to get to youtube if it's like that. Actually, yeah, just do that, it's a better quality, anyways.

Last Farewell (Part 1 of 2)

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 05:19:19 GMT

Title: Last Farewell (Part 1 of 2)
Author: Harusstar
Pairing/Characters: No pairings, really, other than BFF!Kyuhyun/Yesung. Other characters from Super Junior and SHINee included, but can't be revealed
Rating: PG/PG-13 I guess??
Genre: Angst/Slice of life, a bit of attempted humor in there...
Word Count: 3046
Disclaimer: Do not own~ If I did... I would not be wasting my time writing fanfictions
Warning: Swearing (later on), character death...
Summary: Time no longer has meaning; life is no longer worthy of comprehension...

Note: I posted the beginning part, altered a bit, already on miracle___ as a story by itself, but it's pretty much a different plot since I re-wrote it into an assignment for school, so don't worry if you've already read that first post. No spoilers. I'm sorry if the story starts to have a really emotionless/boring feel after a while, because I just started getting lazy and wrote whatever I felt like writing.

‘Nobody is perfect. I am nobody. Therefore I must be perfect.’ Grim chuckles reverberate throughout the small, dingy bedroom. It fleetingly occurs to the young man that he should be worried about what he has become – frightened even –, but only an intense numbness pervades his already void body. ‘After all, it was the world that made me this way.’

~.~.~.~

March 7, 2009

    I don’t know why I even bother humoring everyone (myself) anymore. I’m tired – tired of myself; tired of the world. I’m tired of it all.

    I’ve been waiting, waiting, for so long, so long. Seconds become minutes, minutes transform into hours, hours turn into years, years become seconds, and on, and on. Time no longer has meaning; life is no longer worthy of comprehension.

    I’ll shut my eyes and embrace the welcoming darkness. I’ll let it paint me black and fade me away. Let the awaiting vacuum envelop me. Let it erase my entire existence, leaving nothing behind but the meaningless whisper of my memories and the chill of my despair. Because you don’t care; they don’t care. Therefore, why should I?

    The clatter of the pen slipping from his trembling grasp resounds ominously in his head. Teardrops pour endlessly down his pallid cheeks, only to drip gracefully into an ever-growing pool of tears streaming over the fragile pages of the diary. With a sense of hopelessness he looks over that last paragraph, over and over again, until it becomes a rhythm. A lulling pattern that he clings to like his life depends on it.

    ‘But it does, doesn’t it.’ As if a barrier had suddenly been broken, the anguished man lets sobs wrack his body, and he claws at his dark, unkempt hair. Stumbling, he makes his way through the cluttered room blindly; his eyes teem with too many unshed tears. Unsure hands grasp for something – anything – until one finally closes loosely about something thin and wiry. A spare computer cord.

    Without warning the flow of tears come to a halt and the young man brings the wire up to his face, mesmerized. Seconds and then minutes elapse while he stands, frozen. With an expression of certainty passing over his tear-stained face, his grip on the wire tightens while he slowly, but steadily, marches over to the stairwell. Behind his fading figure, the journal lies forgotten upon the desk, its pages fluttering violently with every slight breeze the open window lets in.

    The clock reads 4:28 in the evening when the remains of a torn out page reveal itself within the mess of flitting paper.

    It’s 7:42 p.m. when Kim Heechul’s body is found hanging limply from the stairway banister.

~.~.~.~

    “ ‘*Notorious? You mean famous!*’ ” gasps a woman’s scornful voice emitting from the television screen. The living room is unlit other than the dim light from the computer screen and the television it is hooked up to, and the faint moonlight seeping through closed blinds. As the expressive chattering continues on, one of the two guys sprawled unceremoniously in front of the television set sighs. His companion glances amusedly at the other’s apparent boredom. Catching his gaze, the latter gives another heavy sigh of ennui.

    “Explain to me again why we’re wasting our only day off watching cheesy, terribly made Korean dramas with subtitles so small I swear I’m getting a cramp in my neck from trying to read them?” the teenage boy demands, the beginnings of a pout forming on his lips. Meanwhile, the other reaches for the laptop and pauses the video they were previously watching.

    “Kyuhyun, don’t,” he warns in mock exasperation. “You’re nineteen years old. That stopped being cute when you were, like, ten.”

    Kyuhyun only rolls his eyes in response. Turning to lay on his back the brunette murmurs something his friend doesn’t quite catch, but is sure he doesn’t want to know, anyways.

    “Fine, whatever, Yesung,” Kyuhyun eventually retorts. “But, seriously, why did you convince me to do this again?” he tiredly watches his friend make his way towards the adjacent hallway.

    “Remember my friend I told you about? Heenim? Yeah, well, this is an old drama he starred in while he was in my hometown in Korea a couple years ago. I haven’t had the chance to see it,” Yesung replies, his voice tinted with slight humor. “So I figured, ‘Hey, why not watch it with Kyuhyun! I’m sure he won’t complain!’ but, nooo…” With that he hastily rushes out of the room. Kyuhyun pointedly ignores the slam of the bathroom door only seconds after his roommate’s exit and takes advantage of the blissful silence.

    Not even a full minute passes when the piercing ring tone of Yesung’s cell phone suddenly fills the capacious living room. Groaning in irritation, Kyuhyun blindly gropes about for the offender until his fingertips lightly brush against the cool exterior of the tinkling object.

    “Hello?” greets Kyuhyun, trying genuinely to keep his tone from sounding too indignant.

    “Jongwoon-ah!” the man on the othis end screeches in obvious distress. “Oh, Jongwoon-ah, he did it! He did it, Yesung-ah, he’s d-dead! Heenim’s dead!”

    “I – what?! Who is this?!” Kyuhyun urgently questions as he shoots up from his original position, although it is difficult to be heard over the intensified wails and incoherent stuttering. Before he can receive an answer that makes any sense the line abruptly starts to crackle and goes dead.

    On the verge of letting loose a string of colorful expletives, the dark-haired teenager scrambles in the direction of the hall and nearly crashes into Yesung, who was just about to turn the corner. Taking note of Kyuhyun’s flustered expression and the cell phone in his hand, he inquiringly raises his eyebrow.

    “Somebody just called your cell,” Kyuhyun begins breathlessly. “Somebody just called and said ‘He did it, Yesung, Heenim’s dead’. What the heck is that about, Yesung? What’s going on?!”

    Yesung’s brown eyes widen in shock. The boy’s face pales beyond the point that could be considered even remotely healthy and his petite body frame quivers uncontrollably. After a moment of uncomfortable silence that lasts far too long for Kyuhyun’s liking, he whispers, distress evident in his hoarse voice, “Oh my god. Heechul-ah, oh my – I need to go. Now.”

    Careening down the hallway, stopping only to pocket his car keys and wallet, he pulls the front door open. When he makes it to the car, he finds, to his frustration, that he cannot get a firm grip on the door handle, for his body has not stopped shaking. Kyuhyun, who had immediately followed after his friend worried that he might breakdown into tears, cautiously reaches forward and pulls the door open, then hastens to the passenger side.

    Looking up over the car hood to meet Yesung’s tear-brimmed eyes, he comfortingly says, “I’m coming with you.”

    Yesung lets a small smile slip onto his face in response, and then seems to consider something briefly. An expression of puzzlement passes over Kyuhyun’s face when he catches the car keys tossed precariously in his direction.

    “It’s probably safer that you drive,” the other explains briskly.

    Finally, after an hour of following Yesung’s confusing directions and driving through the city while simultaneously keeping an eye on his friend, Kyuhyun pulls into the parking lot of a relatively rich apartment building. The two males step out of the car into the cool winter air. Without any further speaking, Yesung trudges in the direction of one of the apartments that were farther away with Kyuhyun not far behind him.

    Within a couple hundred meters of the building at the very end of the parking lot, both boys can make out two cars, one of which is adorned with a police symbol. Three figures appear to be conversing beside that vehicle. As Kyuhyun gets closer he suddenly recognizes the voice speaking at the moment as the man who had called just before they left.

    “Taemin-ah!” Yesung shouts before rushing over to the crying young man – in fact, he was much less a man than really a boy – and wrapping his arms protectively around his shuddering shoulders. “What happened? Are you all right?” The grieving boy buries his head into the crook of Yesung’s neck while continuously shaking his head as if trying to rid the memories of the day from his mind.

    “He called me before he did it, Jongwoon-ah. He even told me he was going to do it, but I didn’t do anything. I—I thought he was just stressed from h busy filming schedule – I didn’t think he was serious! Oh my god, what kind of brother am I, Jongwoon-ah?!” the distraught teenager – Taemin – sobs while clinging desperately to the front of Yesung’s jacket, completely ignoring the presence of the other newcomer and the two men he was just speaking to. Yesung soothingly pats his back, seeming to know exactly what he was talking about.

    Kyuhyun watches the scene, pity sketched across his expression. Suddenly something occurs to him. Not wanting to upset either Yesung or Taemin any further, he slowly turns from the two and wanders over towards the police car where both men stand chatting.

    “Um… excuse me?” Kyuhyun speaks up warily, hoping to gain their attention without alerting the others. Surprised by the sudden interruption, the policeman faces him in slight confusion. Soon he has both men’s attention on him.

    Dimly noting the look of apprehension that streaks across the second man’s face as he observes him, he continues to voice his observations. “Well… considering the current situation and the content of Taemin and Ye—I mean Jongwoon’s conversation just now… Heenim killed himself, didn’t he.” Kyuhyun briefly flinches, realizing how blunt and insensitive that must have sounded, but quickly shakes off his nervousness and looks up at the officer’s face in expectancy.

    “Yes, I’m sorry, he did,” he grimly replies, his confusion immediately dissipating into an expression of sympathy. “According to hospital records, Mister Kim was diagnosed with depression about nine years ago. It was assumed that the cause was the death of his parents in a car crash the year before. His depression plus the constant stress he was under at his job probably overwhelmed him to the point that he – uh, well, you know what happened.”

    Nodding his head, Kyuhyun takes a moment to absorb everything he had been told. All of this new information deepened his pity for Heenim and his brother, but underneath that was a tinge of something that he deemed to be akin to fascination… and it scared him. “So… who are you?” he asks the other man, trying to ignore how sickeningly intriguing the whole situation was to him.

    “Ah,” he begins, “Yes, um, I’m Daniel Lee. I am – er, was – Heenim’s manager.” Kyuhyun watches him in interest, aware of the way his dark eyes were flitting around anxiously, as if purposely avoiding his gaze. “I’m sorry, but I should be going now.”

    Not waiting for any response from his companions, the manager scurries off to his car.

    “Unfortunately, it’s probably about time I left, as well. There can’t be much else to the story than what we already know, but if you or your friends come up with anything, don’t hesitate to call me up,” said the police officer while pressing a business card into the palm of Kyuhyun’s left hand. After flashing a gentle smile in his direction he pulls open his car door and follows suit of the other man.

    Several seconds pass after both the manager and policeman had left until Kyuhyun starts to finger the edge of the slip of paper in his hand. Bringing the card up into view, he scans over the information momentarily before pocketing it. Suddenly realizing that he can no longer hear Taemin’s sobs, he turns back around to investigate. When he does not see either of the men, he feels the worry crawl slowly throughout his body as a living thing would. Just as he is about to fish out his cell phone and dial Yesung’s number, he turns his head towards their car farther down the road and sighs in relief when he sees the two curled up in the backseat.

    Deciding that both deserved to rest, Kyuhyun wraps the thin jacket tightly about himself when his earlier sickening fascination reemerges. As his curiosity quickly increases, he spins once again to face the looming apartment building. A fleeting glimmer of sunlight illuminates the foreboding shadows on the second floor, revealing a door blocked off by several strands of yellow tape where the words “Do not cross” are imprinted.

    Before he can thoroughly think his actions through, Kyuhyun finds himself racing towards the site. Easily climbing the short flight of stairs, he cautiously approaches the doorway. Without allowing himself the chance to even considering turning back he reaches out with both hands, one pushing a few of the strips of tape up far enough to form an opening he could fit through with the other turning the doorknob.

    Silently praying that the apartment was left unlocked, he shoves forwards and leaps through the makeshift entrance in one movement. With a shocked gasp, he falls into a dark hallway. Slightly dazed, Kyuhyun clambers to his feet. Carefully shutting the front door he begins to run his hands across the walls in hopes of finding a light switch.

    Click!

    Kyuhyun jumps as light floods the hallway, startled by the unexpected noise. Under further inspection he discovers that his left hand had slid across a miniature touch-screen that apparently controlled the corridor lights. Mumbling something like ‘stupid technology’ and ‘should ask to get this installed…’ under his breath, more to ease his nerves than anything else, he hurries on down the hall.

    Only a couple moments pass before Kyuhyun emerges into a spacious living room. Although these lights weren’t on, the dim glow of the hallway lights allows him to make out another set of stairs. Not sparing the current room a second glance he scurries towards the stairway and hastens upwards, focusing mostly on his feet and trying not to trip in the growing darkness. The closer to the top he gets, the more acute his intrigue becomes, but this time mingled with a touch of fear.

    Kyuhyun audibly breathes a sigh of relief once the carpet of the upper floor comes into his downcast view. Immediately his panic returns just as quickly as it had fled only seconds before. The problem is he has no idea why. About halfway up the stairs he had begun to adjust to the darkness, so, taking advantage of this, he frantically observes his surroundings when his brown eyes fall upon the stairway banister on his right. He gasps in terror at the sight of a thick wire curled securely about the top of the banister. The bloodstained banister.

    Nothing more coherent than ‘Get out!’ shoots through Kyuhyun’s jumbled mind as he bolts to his left straight into an open doorway. He slams the door shut and slumps against it limply in order to catch his breath. Slouching there in the unlit room for an interminable amount of time, he gradually pulls himself together and lifts his head.

    The room is nice. But nothing more than that. Despite being more than twice the size of the bedroom Kyuhyun and Yesung shared and lavishly decorated with plushy furniture and a sizeable desk, the room gives off a sullen and despondent feel. Getting to his feet, Kyuhyun cannot resist the urge to explore.

    He listens to the click of his shoes on the wood floor as he moves to run his hand across the bed. At first contact a shiver crawls up his spin, and he pulls his arm back. The sheets are cold as ice, as if they hadn’t been used in several days. Shivering, he hastens to the opposite side of the room, heading straight for the seemingly vacant desk. At first glance the desk looks as if it had been completely cleaned out, but as Kyuhyun sweeps his eyes over the surface once again he notices the cover of a book lit by the dim sunlight from the adjacent window within a drawer that is slightly cracked open.

    Pulling the book out of the compartment, he carefully inspects it. At the top right corner the words “Kim Heechul” written in pen catch his eye.

    ‘Kim Heechul… Who’s that?’ Kyuhyun riffles through his memories, hoping to recall something Yesung might have mentioned. His thoughts go back to what Yesung had said right before leaving the apartment. ‘Heechul is Heenim… This is Heenim’s room!’

    Excitement courses through his as he flips through the book. Finally settling on a random page somewhere in the middle he begins to read.

    The first thing written is the date of December 20, 2008, followed by messily scrawled sentences smudged by contact with some sort of liquid. Not long afterwards, it hits his. It was Heenim’s journal.

    The careless slam of the front door reverberates throughout the residence, interrupting Kyuhyun’s thoughts and he freezes. Too paralyzed to move, he crouches anxiously beside Heenim’s desk and listens to the ever-growing sound of the heavy footsteps.

    Kyuhyun is vaguely aware of how his breathing has become significantly shallow and the way his heart is beating so fast it feels as if it is about to burst, but his full attention is on the other visitor. When he hears the deliberate footsteps begin to ascend the stairway he abruptly finds himself able to move. Jumping up with the journal still clutched in both of his hands he desperately searches for an escape route.

    The window.

    Taking a deep breath, Kyuhyun turns around to climb onto the desk. Grappling with the latch on the window, he becomes increasingly conscious of the intruder nearing this very room. No longer bothering to keep quiet he flings the window open and literally falls through the gap, tumbling head over heels before landing painfully into a cluster of shrubbery lining the backside of the buildings.

    Groaning and cursing at the painful impact, he clumsily hobbles away from the now gaping window in the direction of what he hopes to be the parking lot.

Yeah! Okay!! If I get a good enough response (I'm easy to please. ;D), I'll post the second part, which I have written already. I'm sorry, this is un-betaed, so if anybody could point out mistakes, that'd be great. My original characters were girls, so I might have some random pronouns applying to females here and there.

Can anybody can guess what drama the line with the asterixes is from??
Hint: It's related to what I based the story loosely on (I'm not proud of that, though...), if people recognize it at all...

Fanart totally not related to any of my fandoms

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 03:02:55 GMT

Title says it all.
The pictures are of Amu from the manga/anime Shugo Chara! in her transformation with... um... I don't know the Guardian Character's name, but she was a Guardian Character for that... singer girl who worked with Easter and was siblings with Ikuto but was in love with him. Yeah, I doubt anybody understood what I was just talking about.

Color:

Black and white:

Damn, that last one's not clear at all...

Oh well, for those who stumble across my livejournal + the few friends I have on here, enjoy!

Sun, 19 Apr 2009 02:17:09 GMT

Mmmm... I'm back! Not that anybody is keeping track of what I post, anyways. XD (I think so highly of myself, can't you tell?)

I come with more fanart~ There are three, all in different styles, but I won't tell you who they're of. You have to guess (I really hope people are able to recognize them...). ^ ^ Also, input on which style you like/what I should work on would be nice.
Disclaimer: Of course, I totally own them. THAT'S RIGHT, BE JEALOUS. *gets mobbed by rabid fangirls*

#1. First attempt at drawing an actual person in the style of a portrait, without adding in any manga/anime-like aspects (like the nose). I'm not happy with it... but I'm not unhappy...

#2. My usual drawing style. I drew it a couple months back (like in August of 2008, I think... it was at my friend's birthday party... one of our other friends decided to use this page to smash a bug on the wall. -.-).
#3. First (failed) attempt at drawing a chibi! Yeah... it sucks pretty badly. I think I'll stick to my usual drawing style + work on portraits. XD

P.S. If anybody could tell me how I put a preview of my picture as my link to the entry, that would be awesome~

Mon, 06 Apr 2009 00:37:51 GMT

DAMMIT, WHY DOES LJ-CUT HATE ME SO MUCH. T_T

Title: Falling Slowly
Characters/Pairing: Kisung (because the world needs more)

February 27, 2009

    I’m falling, falling, so slowly, so slowly. Tumbling, tumbling, farther I sink. Everything’s colliding, conflicting, converging, diverging. I gaze around as the world passes me by (or am I passing them by?).

    You always told me you’d be there for me when the whole world was against me. I can’t even begin to count how many times you’ve whispered the hope-filled phrase into my awaiting ears. Lies. All of them, lies. But I believed them. Meaningless words meant to further elaborate this façade you kept up for so long.

    I’ll raise my hopeful voice; sing my melody. Words rain down on me, fall through me as if I am nothing. As if I am nobody.

~.~.~.~

‘Nobody is perfect. I am nobody. Therefore I must be perfect.’ Grim chuckles reverberate throughout the small, dingy bedroom. It fleetingly occurs to the young man that he should be worried about what he has become – frightened even –, but only an intense numbness pervades his already void body. ‘After all, it was the world that made me this way.’

~.~.~.~

    The clatter of the pen slipping from his trembling grasp resounds ominously in his head. Teardrops pour endlessly down his pallid cheeks, only to drip gracefully into an ever-growing pool of tears streaming over the fragile pages of the diary. With a sense of hopelessness he looks over that last paragraph, over and over again, until it becomes a rhythm. A lulling pattern that he clings to like his life depends on it.

    ‘But it does, doesn’t it.’ As if a barrier had suddenly been broken, the anguished man lets sobs wrack his body, and he claws at his dark, unkempt hair. Stumbling, he makes his way through the cluttered room blindly; his eyes teem with too many unshed tears. Unsure hands grasp for something – anything – until one finally closes loosely about something thin and wiry. A spare computer cord.

    Without warning the flow of tears come to a halt and the young man brings the wire up to his face, mesmerized. Seconds and then minutes elapse while he stands, frozen. With an expression of certainty passing over his tearstained face, his grip on the wire tightens while he slowly, but steadily, marches over to the stairwell. Behind his fading figure, the journal lies forgotten upon the desk, its pages fluttering violently with every slight breeze the open window lets in.

    The clock reads 4:28 in the evening when the remains of a torn out page reveal itself within the mess of flitting paper and the faint moonlight illuminates the carefully etched words on the page ‘Kim Kibum’.

    It’s 7:42 p.m. when Kim Jongwoon’s body is found hanging limply from the stairway banister.

failed Yesung fanart! O.o

Sun, 29 Mar 2009 23:33:27 GMT

Second post! Yay me~!! XD This is my first fanart, and since I can't draw guys, I decided to pick a member who had simple, girl-like hair! I know, I should have picked Heechul for that, but the key-word was "simple". Heechul's hair is too... unique for me. I'd probably ruin it. -.-

Because I have writer's block on how to write a sequel to my last fanfiction (which sucked, might I had. Read it anyways. XD) which my only commenter requested (I am very grateful for her comment~!), I decided to post a fanart in the time being.
Since I'm not used to drawing using my Corel Painter program thingy on my laptop, I had to scan it from my journal, and it came out smaller than intended, so bear with me.

Comments will be loved!! Even if you want to tell me that I suck at drawing and writing, I shall welcome all! (Yes, I am just that desperate.)

I used this picture as my reference: http://xs128.xs.to/xs128/08232/1182504130382612_file854.jpg

Just Another Day

Sun, 22 Mar 2009 05:49:50 GMT

MUAHAHA, first attempt at fanfiction in TWO FUCKING YEARS. Like anybody's going to read this on my journal, since I have no friends, but whatever... I'm bored enough.

   Yawning widely, Eunhyuk stared blankly at the animated figures capering across the television screen. Unfortunately for him, this did not go by unnoticed by the man – no, make that child – sprawled on the white rug beside him.

    “Hyukkie~,” Donghae whined, elongating the last syllable longer than Eunhyuk deemed necessary. “Do you think spending time with me is boring?” Struggling to his feet, the younger planted himself in front of the other, the beginnings of a pout adorning his features.

    Eunhyuk lazily regarded his companion from his ungraceful position on his back on the floor. Sighing, he pushed himself up and leaned on his elbows. “Of course not, Hae, but, honestly, a sane man such as myself can only take watching Finding Nemo so many times.”

    The younger’s expression twisted into that of incredulity. “Whaaaat?! How could you say that?! I’m ashamed of you, Hyukkie.” Donghae shook his head in mock disappointment, his already disheveled bangs falling in front of his dark eyes. “Oh, by the way, I beg to differ about that part about you being sane.”

    A girly squeal burst from his lips while he hastily scrambled out of way when Eunhyuk lunged forward and clumsily tripped his own feet. Donghae boisterously laughed at the older’s failed attempt at revenge, before promptly shutting up at the sight of the other’s menacing glare.

    “Just quiet down and help me up, you retard,” came the exasperated growl.

    “Not until you apologize to Nemo!”

    Eunhyuk remained stretched out on the ground, flabbergasted. “Oh my – let me be frank with you, Hae. I would rather agree to go shopping with Heechul and Sungmin than say ‘sorry’ to an animated fish on a TV screen. Now help me up.” Raising an eyebrow, he lifted his right hand towards his bandmember expectantly, inwardly chuckling to himself at Donghae’s offended face.

    Just at that moment Eeteuk waltzed into the living room.

    “TEUKIE!!” In a split second Donghae had scurried across the room and latched onto the band umma’s arm, dangerously unbalancing and eventually toppling over his hyung. “Eunhyuk hates me!” wailed the youth in exaggerated misery.

    In a desperate effort to defend himself before Eeteuk could break out into one of his speeches, Eunhyuk once again stumbled to his feet and indignantly shouted, “What?! No, no, no, I said that I would rather have gone shopping with Heechul and Sungmin!”

    Donghae temporarily ceased his sobbing to turn his head toward the offender. “It’s practically the same thing!!” he whined indignantly before once again burying his face into Eeteuk’s already soaked sleeve.

    “I RESENT THAT,” screeched a voice that sounded uncannily like Heechul’s from a neighboring room, followed by a series of noisy, sensual moans.

    “Ew, Hyung, get a room!!” Eunhyuk shrieked in response, cutting Eeteuk off before he could scold either of the two boys. Both shuddered at the mental images that raced through their minds.

    “We ARE, you dumbass—“

    “For God’s sake, LANGUAGE, PEOPLE!” scolded a distressed Eeteuk, frantically covering Donghae’s ears in hopes of protecting him from their bandmembers’ explicit use of language.

    “Don’t use God’s name in vain, Hyung,” reprimanded Siwon who had popped his head momentarily into the living room from his place in the kitchen.

    Now, Eeteuk wasn’t one for violence – in fact, he prided himself in his ability to deal with twelve immature, incompetent, hormone-driven men in such a calm manner (or as calm as you can be when YOU’RE the one who has to answer to your manager after your bandmates were somehow able to set your – of all people’s, YOUR – bedroom on fire) – but there comes a point when someone can only take so much idiocy. Emitting a sound closely resembling that of a strangled duck, he twisted his way around the body clinging onto him, made a grab for the nearest cushion and flung it at the head just around the corner. Eunhyuk winced as the pillow completely missed its target and instead crashed into a cup of juice that had already been placed precariously on the edge of the ivory countertop. He swore time slowed down as the glass overturned and smashed on the kitchen tiles, splattering the previously spotless floor with the sticky liquid.

    Chewing his bottom lip nervously, Eunhyuk made eye contact with Siwon, whose expression mirrored his very own. Anxiously, the two simultaneously looked over at Eeteuk and flinched ever so slightly at the sight of their leader, eyes wide and mouth agape. Donghae had discreetly wormed his way out of the seething man’s range of pillow-throwing range, although he wasn’t all that sure how large this area was seeing how unpredictable his aim was.

    “I,” Siwon began uncertainly, “think I’ll just take my leave now…” With that, he spun around and hastily rushed through the kitchen and out the front door, Donghae not far behind him.

    “Wait, what? ... Guys?” Eunhyuk fearfully glanced from Donghae’s back to the furious looking Eeteuk. “Guys?! No, no, WAIT, don’t leave me here by myself! Don’t – holyfuckingshitEeteuk, whattheFUCK, don’t LOOK at me like that, don’t— GUYS, I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIENDS.”