Fic: Rich in Pokedollars, Poor in Sense

Title: Rich in Pokedollars, Poor in Sense
Fandom: Exo
Focus: Suho-centric
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Length: Oneshot, 1069 words
Summary: Pokedollars might not be able to buy a trainer victory, strength, or friendship, but there's no denying that they can buy the highest quality Luxury Balls money can buy, and that's close enough.

Junmyeon gets off to a late start in terms of the whole "starting a Pokemon adventure!" thing. He's already sixteen when the standard age for setting off into the unknown is ten, and he's spent half of his life cooped up in expensive training facilities and cram schools practicing with school-issued Pokemon instead of venturing into the tall grasses surrounding his city and catching wild Pokemon like a real trainer.

Finally, finally though, his teachers and his parents tell him he's ready. He can identify all of the known species of Pokemon in his region by heart and knows the statistics behind every type advantage and disadvantage like they've been printed on the back of his eyelids. Once he has his own team gathered and trained, he's allowed to actually forgo the gym badge challenge and just come back to his school for a final certification match, and then it's off to Victory Road for him, which is great. Which should be great.

But it doesn't feel like it.

A lot of the trainers that pass through Junmyeon's city, toting both naturally captured Pokemon and hard-earned badges and endless stories about their adventures. The stuff he used to read about during the early days when his parents first enrolled him into his cram school. It'd be a lie to say he wasn't envious of their experiences.

At least now it's his turn.

The morning he's scheduled to leave, he's preparing to go to the cram school one last time to pick out his starter -- probably a Totodile, he's always been fond of water types -- when his brother pulls him aside and hands him a bulky express package. It's stamped with the picture of a Delibird, the words "FIRST CLASS" written around the Pokemon's face. It had probably been delivered just the night before, based on the fact that his brother hadn't had a chance to wrap it in flashier packaging.

"Just a little something to help you out," his brother tells him, winking as he does so. Junmyeon doesn't properly open the package until he's already left the house, his parents no longer hovering over his shoulder like he's grown used to.

He wonders what his brother got him. Maybe a Mahogany Town rage candy bar? Or a pack of lava cookies flown in from Lavaridge? What if his brother actually bought him some rare candies? Junmyeon desperately hopes not.

What he finds in the package instead are more tiny Luxury Balls than he can possibly count, their glossy black shells shining in the morning sun.

Luxury Balls. Products of the Devon Corporation from all the way in Hoenn. Extremely expensive and rare and designed to raise the affinity between a trainer and his Pokemon at a rate faster than his own region's Friend Ball.

Friendship. Having a Pokemon as a friend. His own Pokemon.

Junmyeon can't help the giant grin that spreads over his face.

At the very back of the package, there's one Luxury Ball that sticks out, sparkling in a way that the others aren't. He reaches in, grasping it tightly with the special grip gloves his parents had ordered for him the week before and pulling it out.

He can't believe it -- there are diamonds laden in the surface of the ball. Real life diamonds, like the ones on his mother's jewelry. He spends several minutes standing stock-still, gaping at it in surprise.

"SNUB."

Junmyeon almost drops the diamond-encrusted Luxury Ball in surprise, even with his special gloves, and looks around nervously. He's heard about muggings before. He hopes it doesn't get a first-hand experience.

"Snub Snub. Bull."

Finally, he looks down and sees a pink, dog-like Pokemon staring up at him, with intimidating ceiling eyes of all things, and frowning as it barks at him.

"Snubbull Bull Snub!" it says, almost sounding like it's whining.

"Snubbull," Junmyeon says to himself as the Pokemon starts lazily stretching its arms out towards him, "the Fairy Pokemon." Not too rare in the grand scheme of things, but a favorite for higher society women. He doesn't know how many Snubbulls have tried to bite his finger when he attempted to innocently pet them at his parents' parties.

"What do you want, little..." he takes a second to peek at it inconspicuously, "guy! I don't have any berries on me yet and I don't think you'd appreciate my lunch?"

"Snubbull." The Pokemon stares up at Junmyeon like he's stupid, which he can't say he doesn't agree with.

That's when he notices how the Snubbull's eyes are glued to his hand -- or more specifically, the Luxury Ball in his hand. To test his theory, Junmyeon moves it back and forth in front of him in hypnotic circles and watches as the Snubbull's eyes follow, even if it seems too lazy to even bother moving its head.

"So you want this," he muses.

As gently as he can, he crouches down and sets the Luxury Ball on the ground between them. It was a nice present, but Junmyeon doesn't know if he feels comfortable enough to be carrying around something like that while he's still defenseless. Might as well let the Snubbull have it.

But the Snubbull does the most curious thing: he gets on all fours and walks over to the Luxury Ball, his large black nose nudging at it before actually pressing the opening mechanism.

"Wait-- what are you--!?"

A beam of red light flares out from the ball, and Junmyeon jumps in surprise as the Snubbull is converted into energy and enters the ball as it he has always belonged in there. The ball wiggles once, twice, and a final time with very little force before it comes to a rest and glows a familiar red.

Junmyeon's Pokedex beeps at him from his pocket.

"Would you like to give your Pokemon a nickname?" the electronic voice asks him, and that's when it sinks in.

Your Pokemon.

His Pokemon.

Junmyeon's first Pokemon.

It's not how he imagined his first capture going, but Junmyeon still feels a warmth flooding through his body at the thought of having his own Pokemon. He clutches the ball close to his heart.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll call him Sehun."

The Luxury Ball weakly wiggles in his hand, as if Sehun is acknowledging him, and Junmyeon thinks this is something no cram school could have ever simulated for him.
 




 

Original Post: Here.
Author's Note: Another piece that I started on the HG AU worldoftext. Sehun only wants Suho for his Luxury Ball. Heehee, it's a play off of the Gangnam Oppar/Youngmoney jokes on EM. And Snubbull does have ceiling eyes just like Sehun does! lol The idea of the Pokemon cram schools come from the Kanto series where the gang visited Pokemon Tech, only in this case, Suho lives in Johto. That's the extent of my Pokemon knowledge, sadly. The school's not run the same way, I think in the show they still had their own Pokemon, but they just used computer simulators to train? I'm not sure, my memory is awfully foggy. :( But either way, it's no way for a Pokemon Trainer to live.

Title: Prices

Title: Prices
Fandom: Exo
Focus: Suho-centric, slight Suho/Kai
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG-13
Length: Oneshot, 2623 words
Summary: As far as Junmyeon knows, there's no price too great for him to pay when it comes to his friends. Junmyeon doesn't know very much. Fullmetal Alchemist (2003 ver) AU.
Warning: Highlight to read. Non-explicit character death, as per the AU.

Water, 35 liters. Carbon, 20 kilograms. Ammonia, 4 liters. Lime, 1.5 kilograms. Phosphorus, 800 grams. Salt, 250 grams. Saltpeter, 100 grams. Sulfur, 80 grams. Fluorine, 7.5 grams. Iron, 5 grams. Silicon, 3 grams. And trace amounts of fifteen other elements.

Junmyeon is certain that while those are the correct measurements of the elements required to make an average adult human body. He's also certain that Oh Sehun was composed of both more and less than a such a cheap shopping list.

"But how do we account for his soul?" Jongin asks during their trip to Central. He trails behind Junmyeon, his steps slow and sluggish as he waits for Junmyeon to appraise yet another vial of saltpeter. They've spent the past few weeks visiting the finest apothecaries the nation could offer, window-shopping for the best ingredients money could buy. Only the richest -- and, of course, the State Military -- could afford such exorbiant prices, but for Junmyeon it might as well have been pocket change.

Like Sehun would have accepted being recomposed of sub-par materials simply bought from a local market.

One thing that Junmyeon's vast fortune couldn't buy though was the one thing Jongin had always been most concerned with, always bringing it up in their conversations ever since Junmyeon had finally let him in on the plan he'd spent the past seven years researching and preparing for. The human soul had always been a tricky thing to work around, but surely Junmyeon could figure something out now that he had Jongin on his side.

"Maybe if the two of us put a little more energy into the transmutation," he answers softly, but with very little confidence. He holds the vial of saltpeter closer to his eyes, examining it once more before setting it back on the shelf with a frown. With so many impurities, there's no way it'd hold up in an actual human transmutation. "Although I should still probably provide the bulk of it."

It's only right after all. It's Junmyeon's responsibility, Junmyeon's fault.

He reaches out to take Jongin's hand, already ready to head back over to the store's supply of lime, but Jongin manages to slip right out of his grasp and walk over to the display himself. Nineteen year old Jongin is a lot different from twelve year old Jongin, but at least that much hasn't changed.

"This looks good," Jongin comments, leaning over the display with his back facing Junmyeon. He's grown so tall, his shoulders so broad and muscled. Junmyeon wonders if Sehun would have grown up the same way, sprouting up like a particularly handsome sunflower. Always looking away from Junmyeon. "I think you should buy it."

And Junmyeon listens without even looking at the cost of the lime, eagerly pulling out his wallet and walking over to the clerk on his own. It's a small price to pay, comparatively.



Junmyeon's family owns an estate out in Resembool, one of the few properties to survive the town's bombing by Ishvalan terrorists in retribution for the civil war. That had been years ago, when Junmyeon had been a child and safely spirited away to Central for the time being. Despite the fact that his father had landed a solid position teaching at the capitol's top medical school and his much older brother had found himself a place in the Amestrian military academy, Junmyeon and his mother had returned to the family home once the conflict had ended.

That had been when he met Zitao, Jongin, and Sehun.

In spite of their age difference, Junmyeon thought of them as his friends. Maybe Zitao felt the same way, but Jongin and Sehun had always insisted on referring to him as their glorified babysitter. It wasn't too much of a stretch -- Junmyeon was the one to pick them all up from their houses in the morning and walk with them to the town's school-house, and a majority of his early adolescent years had been spent happily keeping an eye on them for their parents.

"Don't you ever get tired of this?" Jongin asked as he laid in the grass a healthy distance away from where Junmyeon was stretched out. Zitao and Sehun had been rolling around on the ground closer to the river and attempting to toss each other into the water, although Sehun's strategy seemed to involve more slumping on top of Zitao's body like a heavy rock than any actual force. "You're so old, and you're still hanging out with us kids."

"That's because I like you kids." Which was true. Junmyeon probably liked the three of them most out of all the people in his life.

And as he sat on one of Resembool's grassy banks, listening to Zitao and Sehun's playful yelps echo through the air and watching Jongin's hair ruffle in the summer breeze, he realized he'd do anything for them.

The year Junmyeon turns fifteen, Sehun collapses with very little warning in Junmyeon's house. So little warning that by the time Junmyeon finishes frantically telephoning his father in Central for medical advice -- because surely, surely, one of the top doctors in the country could easily fix this -- Sehun's been pronounced dead by the town's doctor for reasons Junmyeon still doesn't quite understand.

Everything about it is painfully short and frighteningly quick, passing through at whirlwind speeds before Junmyeon can even begin to understand anything.

By the end of the week, he's already watching Sehun's coffin close for the last time. Zitao is crying into his shoulder, his tears soaking through the brand new suit Junmyeon's mother had ordered just for the occasion. For the first time in a long while, Jongin is holding his hand of his own free will. It's smaller and less warm than Junmyeon had expected.

Junmyeon sleeps over at Jongin's in the weeks after, his own house haunted by all the memories of Sehun lounging around the house while petulantly asking for things, as well as the few times Junmyeon had refused him. Regret lingers in every corner, and every time he closes his eyes, he sees Sehun's face and finds himself wondering what he did wrong that day.

"You didn't do anything," Jongin says quietly each night, his voice steady and almost reassuring. He never reaches for Junmyeon's hand again though, and in the darkness of the room, Jongin's eyes accuse him instead.

He's right -- Junmyeon didn't do anything. He didn't do anything when Sehun had collapsed, when Sehun had laid there on the ground as his life slipped away.

"I'll figure something out," Junmyeon promises, more to himself than to Jongin or even Sehun. His fists tighten in the blankets, and he hears Jongin sigh before they drift off to sleep.



Alchemy.

That's the solution, or looks to be it anyway. Junmyeon finds out about it when a young man clad in the same blue military uniform as his brother comes into the town, flashing a silver pocketwatch at anyone who asked.

"Alchemy can be used to fix anything," the soldier had said, sitting in Sehun's chair as Junmyeon's mother fetched him a glass of tea, "for a price."

Junmyeon knows all about prices, even if he's never had to worry about paying for them. Not everything has a price -- if Junmyeon could buy alchemic talent, he would have done so immediately instead of struggling with the simplest of transmutation circles and chemical break-downs for so long -- but there are a lot of things Junmyeon can buy. Rare and expensive alchemy texts and the time and patience of the best alchemists willing to tutor him.

"Fifteen's a little old to start learning," one of them notes, looking over his glasses at Junmyeon like he's trying to break him down to his bare elements, "and you're saying you've never even tried before?"

Junmyeon flushes in embarrassment, his hands clenched into tights fists underneath the desk.

"I have motivation now. Determination."

If nothing else, Junmyeon proves that much. Jongin, who takes to coming along to Junmyeon's lessons now that one playmate is six feet under and the other has thrown himself head-first into his family's automail business, takes to the lessons much more quickly, already advancing well past Junmyeon by the end of their first year, but Junmyeon keeps at it.

"It feels good," Jongin says as he presses his hands to a transmutation circle drawn in the dirt. Blue light flares from the circle, and from the ground arises a life-size puppy chiseled out of rock. It looks suspiciously like one of his own dogs. "Having something to do with my hands. No wonder Zitao decided to take up automail. It's nice not feeling useless."

"Idle hands," Junmyeon replies as he, too, draws the now familiar alchemic runes into the soft earth. He tries for a different transmutation and winds up with a rough, rock goblet filled with water drawn up from the soil. Not too shabby.

While Junmyeon doesn't improve by the leaps and bounds Jongin does, he progresses at a steady rate. By the end of his sixth year of study, he's certain that he's almost ready, and on the sixth anniversary of Sehun's death, he gathers Jongin and Zitao and lets them in on his plan.

"Didn't you tell me human transmutation is illegal?" Zitao asks, now staring at Junmyeon with suspicion. He's nineteen and towers over Junmyeon now, and his disapproval is intimidating. Jongin, who is almost as tall and grown, stares at him with the same intensity.

Junmyeon bites his lip. "But it's Sehun." He knows his voice is heavy with desperation, but for good reason. With each year he struggles with alchemy, more of his memories of Sehun fade with time. How long until he forgets the sound of his awkward laugh, or the way his eyes narrowed whenever he grinned? Junmyeon doesn't think he can afford to wait any longer.

"Fuck, hyung. Was that the whole reason behind this?"

Jongin looks almost disappointed in him. Junmyeon can't even look at him when he silently nods.

He hears Jongin tell Zitao to leave, something about how they had to talk about this alchemist-to-alchemist, and as the front door closes, he braces himself. He tries to tell himself that nothing Jongin says to him can shake his resolve now, not after years of working up to this point -- but Jongin's previous words echo in his ears, speaking of nothing and uselessness.

Jongin will always hold power over Junmyeon, the same way Sehun still does from beyond the grave.

"You think you already know everything you need?" Jongin asks from the door, and Junmyeon can hear him slowly walking back over.

Junmyeon nods again, for some reason too nervous to open his mouth. His throat feels so dry.

He hears Jongin sigh again, just like that night so many years ago, and even with his eyes closed he can see the shadow Jongin casts as he stands over him.

"I wish you'd told me when we started this," Jongin mutters, and Junmyeon looks up in shock, "You know I want him back just as much as you do." He almost reaches out for Junmyeon's hand again, but stops himself just in time. "Let's do this, hyung."



They set up their purchases in Junmyeon's basement.

His mother has long left the Resembool estate, beckoned back to Central's bright lights and socialite circles, and with his brother still in the military, the running of the estate falls on Junmyeon's weak shoulders. He's a lenient master though, and when he tells the few servants he keeps around that they have the week off, no one is surprised.

"No disturbances," he promises Jongin as he lets him in through the front door, "just you and me."

Jongin just brushes past him, complaining of the summer heat.

It's cooler in the basement, where they spend hours drawing out the transmutation circle the two of them had worked to develop. Junmyeon had done most of the planning, combining various other circles he'd come across in his studies until he felt he had developed the perfect one, while Jongin was in charge of making sure the actual construction of the circle on the basement's hardwood flooring was perfect. It's almost midnight by the time they finish, chalk dust all over their hands and their nerves racing.

"Remember what I told you," Junmyeon says as he wipes his hands on his pants, "don't put in too much energy. Let me handle it, I just need you to help me visualize Sehun and direct the transmutation."

Jongin is silent, and Junmyeon's almost certain he'll argue back. He's gotten more contrary over the years, although he has been following Junmyeon's lead for the past year.

"Are you sure this will work, hyung?" Jongin finally asks. His voice is so small.

Of course Junmyeon isn't absolutely sure this will work out. He's tried to calculate all possible rebounds and problems, but human transmutation is illegal for a reason and it's not like there's very much research available about it to anyone who isn't a State Alchemist.

But that doesn't mean he can't try.

"Not at all," he says honestly. "So this is your last chance to back out, Jongin."

A part of him hopes Jongin will take it, that Jongin will walk out of his house and take up a proper profession like Zitao has. Use that to cope with the death of his best friend, a wound that was never allowed to properly heal as long as Junmyeon kept promising hope he couldn't even guarantee.

But there's another part of Junmyeon that knows he can't do this alone. Jongin probably knows it too.

"I'm not a kid anymore, hyung," and Junmyeon knows that already. "I can handle this, too. Probably better than you can."

Junmyeon chuckles bitterly, because that's probably true.

Only it's not. As the room flares in dark purple light, both of their hands positioned firmly on the transmutation circle, Junmyeon realizes just how wrong the two of them were. He hears Jongin's scream amidst the crackling of the sparks in the room and realizes that neither of them were ready for this.



Junmyeon wakes up to a blinding white. There's no end in sight, and when he sits up, all he can see is a giant stone door hovering a few meters away from him with the impressive engraving of a tree of it.

So you're awake.

He turns around to find a white silhouette, whose outline is surrounded by an aura of black particles. It's seated quite casually on whatever counts as the floor for this place.

"Who are you? Where's Jongin?" he asks it, feeling dazed. His head hurts, and his memory up until that moment is a bit of a blur.

The silhouette shrugs its shoulders at him. I am what you call the world. Or perhaps the universe, or perhaps god, or perhaps truth, or perhaps all, or perhaps one. And I am also you. It doesn't make much sense, if anything it makes Junmyeon's head spin even more.

And then he hears the doors behind him creak open.

Welcome, you fool, who doesn't know his own place.

The last thing Junmyeon sees are those razor sharp teeth pulled back into a wicked smile as the tangle of shadowy limbs tear into his body and drag him through the door. The silhouette's lips move one last time before he finds himself in complete darkness, centuries of knowledge being shoved into his mind until he feels like his head is going to burst, but even as he fights to block out the pain, its last words echo mockingly in his ears.

Seven years of hard work, good job, Junmyeon.

Original Post: Here.
Author's Note: This one required SO MUCH EDITING omg orz. I honestly didn't know where I was going to end up when I wrote it, I literally started it just for the punchline. I just sat in the shower one night, thinking about an anime AU and who in Exo would pull human transmutation and I thought that the "seven years of hard work gj suho" joke from EM over his fake-crying was a perfect fit. orz and then somehow backstory came up? But it didn't match my first section at first, hence the editing.

Anyway. So. If we go by the 2003 version of FMA, Suho would have lost a few limbs, Kai would have lost his body, and Sehun would have become Sloth, except maybe with power over wind rather than water? Anyway I'm not writing that far so... Ahem. Actually, Suho probably would have lost both legs at the kneecap and below, given his knee injuries irl. The important thing was that there was a difference between this and the actual FMA canon. They still grow up in Resembool together, but I wanted there to be a different feeling. Suho has the confidence and drive and desperation to try human transmutation, but he's so certain he's useless and interprets everything and everyone around him as accusing him of such.

I'm not sure what I wanted his feelings towards Sehun to be. Towards Tao, Kai, and Sehun, he probably felt like their protector when they were kids. And with how Sehun abruptly died, he felt like he failed them and that failure lingered with him. Suho always feels intimidated by Kai though, but I wanted there to be this slight... I wanted the feelings to come from Kai's side first. He's the one who feels uncomfortable initiating with Suho, the one tries to comfort Suho and get him to move on, the one who feels the heat first. But then when you look at the ambiguity of Suho's feelings about Sehun, that's one of the reasons Kai doesn't do anything. A dead boy still holds so much power of Suho, but what Kai doesn't realize is that he holds just as much if not more. 

As for Sehun's death... I didn't get to graphic. Not just because I wasn't sure how to have him die other than mysteriously, but because I'm more cautious about how I write death now ever since I found out how much Boss dislikes deathfics. For me, death is a fascinating subject, but I can see where it could be upsetting for others so I steered clear for the most part.

And poor Tao got the short end of the stick. He gets Winry's role, but without the romance. If this was longer, he would have been their support system, because he loves very much and very easily and that's what both Suho and Kai needed. The main reason he became the automail mechanic was because I liked the idea of all of those piercings on him and him working with metal, it's just unfortunate it took him out of that action.

As for the technical stuff. The measurements are lifted from FMA. I couldn't find a way to convert them to a preteen Korean male body :( Because that's the age they probably would have brought Sehun back as? Truth's dialogue also comes from the show's subs. Honestly, the whole story was supposed to be heavy-handed so that there would be a greater, comedic contrast to the "7 years" punchline, but it got too heavy? And I got too attached.

Fic: Joyride

Title: Joyride
Fandom: Exo
Focus: Xiumin-centric
Genre: Gen
Rating: G
Length: Oneshot, 1182 words
Summary: It doesn't count as cheating if everyone uses their superpowers during a round of go-karting.

There aren't many go-kart tracks in Korea, but there's one near Minseok's hometown that he used to take his sister to a lot. They'd spend hours racing each other in circles, and on the few occasions when it rained, attempting to drift on the wet track and only really splattering mud all over themselves. He could have won every race, to be honest, but the look on his sister's face whenever he let her win had always been enough, and in the end it was all about having fun with each other.

That laidback joyride was nothing compared to this.

Even three laps into the race, Minseok's not sure what they're doing at an out-of-the-way theme park. He sees Lu Han moving crates and bushes and even Kyungsoo and his tiny go-kart onto the track with a wiggle of his fingers, but before Yifan manages to collide with any of them, his kart floats ascends into the air and flies past Kyungsoo's head by a mere meter before touching down on the track on the other side. Junmyeon has one hand on the wheel, and the other hand stretched out as he hoses most of the obstacles out of the way, while Chanyeol simply burns any foliage Lu Han attempts to block him with.

"That's cheating!" he hears someone yell in the distance, although the sound is so muffled by the roaring of their engines, he can't be sure who it actually is.

"It's not if we all use our powers," Lu Han yells happily as he lifts Yixing's go-kart out of his way and only sets him down facing the opposite direction so his friend goes racing off the wrong way. It's only because Zitao has full control over his time manipulation that they avoid yet another collision, with Zitao freezing Yixing's kart in its place and easily steering past him.

Somewhere in the back, there's the crackling sound of lightning and Minseok wonders who Jongdae is smiting this time in a sorry attempt to improve his ranking from tenth place. His own go-kart, a light blue rental that runs quite smoothly, already has a charred paint job from when Jongdae had targeted him, so he already feels sorry for Jongdae's next victim.

That was one difference from how he used to race with his sister -- he had never been free to use his powers. Not that he would want to. Freezing a patch of the track just to beat her would have been in terrible form and she could have gotten hurt, after all.

He feels a lot less guilty about sending someone like Jongin off-track when Jongin can simply just teleport his kart back into a proper position, looking no worse for wear aside from a few ruffled feathers and a grumpy expression.

Still, years of habit keep him from using his powers too often. Lu Han has been using his telekinesis mercilessly since the twelve of them set off from the starting line and even Sehun has been active enough to send a few tiny tornadoes after whoever bumped into his kart in a misguided attempt to speed past him. Minseok knows he could be capable of more if not just as much -- he could literally encase the others in ice, leaving them frozen on the track until someone like Chanyeol came along and melted them down with his flame-throwing and fire-breathing.

But the freedom of knowing he's allowed to use his powers so recklessly is enough.

It's rare that the twelve of them get to play like this -- usually they're cooped up in a training facility, attempting to find new ways to use their powers for the Greater Good. Minseok gets to read reports on the polar ice caps and how imperative it is that he and other ice manipulators train to the point where they can keep them from melting too rapidly while he listens to Junmyeon receive lessons on flooding control in the training room besides his.

All very important stuff, he's sure. Just not particularly interesting after the first few years of it.

But then that morning, Baekhyun had bent light away from them and kept them invisible from the facility's security cameras for as long as it took to get to Yifan's getaway van.

"We're in need of a much needed vacation, don't you think?" he had asked from his triumphant place in the passenger seat, the others having been too excited at the thought of their little excursion to bother calling shotgun.

Between Baekhyun's light manipulation, Yifan's flight, and Lu Han's telekinesis, they had easily slipped away from the high-wire gates and security guards. Although at least Junmyeon had left a kindly worded note implying they'd be back soon, with Chanyeol adding a passive-aggressive smiley emoticon with far too many teeth.

Neither had specified what soon meant though. Having a time manipulator as a friend made one's own perception of time a little flimsy, after all.

"Minseok! Watch out!"

Minseok blinks, and finally notices the giant crater on the track in front of him -- one of the remnants of Kyungsoo's counterattack against Baekhyun after his friend had blinded them all for an excruciatingly long second and jumped ahead five places. He fills it up with ice and glides smoothly over it, laughing as he does so and watching as Zitao, who had somehow ended up behind him, goes crashing into the side-railing of the track instead while trying to swerve away from the slippery patch-job.

Somewhere in front of them, Lu Han is crowing loudly -- as he should, seeing as he's the first to cross the finish line after five laps. First place in superpowered go-kart racing is no simple feat when you had someone like Junmyeon shooting water in everyone's faces as they attempted to drive.

The last lap for Minseok is a lot more hectic than he expects. The fourth lap had been spent cruising relatively peacefully as he watched others battle it out in front of him, only icing up the others' wheels when he felt like it. It's probably that attitude that lands him so far behind the others; Yifan ends up flying the rest of the way to the finish line while Yixing finally pulls up a bubble of invulnerability around himself so he can chase after Yifan without having to worry about being attacked by the others.

But even though Minseok finishes in last place -- Jongdae had managed yet another lightning strike on him at the same time that Sehun had sent a whirlwind, the combination of which had sent his kart spiraling out of control, while Jongin had ended up teleporting to the end so he'd finish just ahead of Minseok without abusing his powers -- he feels exactly the same as if he had been years younger, racing his sister again in the little race-track near their neighborhood.

Racing with her, racing with the others -- it's not so different after all, he thinks as he rides past the checkered finish line with a smile on his face.

Original Post: Here.
Author's Note: AU where Exo have superpowers and are being trained. And end up bored out of their minds and escaping on a road trip together. In retrospect, there should be more back-story, but in the end the important point was that Xiumin was relishing in the feeling of freedom and having fun, both in his past and his present.

This was the piece I wanted to draw fanart for, in the Sugar Rush style. That didn't work out, unfortunately. This was actually a really quick job. But I'm not dissatisfied. I had a message and I said it. I probably shouldn't have written Xiumin as losing though, since he ended up being eliminated in the round this was written for lol. 

Unrelated, but as of this, I've written 10.9k for the EM Hunger Games. It's quite a feat for me, I'm very proud of myself. Good job, me, lol. I look forward to a new competition, but not for a while. I'm so tired, and I haven't been able to keep up since Xiumin was eliminated lol. Even before that actually?